Fics like we become the flowers

When Minho first showed up at his doorstep, he’d knocked. Jisung had startled at the sound, even though he was expecting someone. Lingering by the door, looking at the figure through the glass-eye, he’d heard Minho say, “zombies don’t knock, Han Jisung-ssi.” Seeing Minho for the first time was surreal. He’s beautiful, in a way that made Jisung think he had hallucinated him. He hadn’t met any other person — human or otherwise — in so long. Somehow, even though it was just one person, it still felt like a flood after a drought when he opened the door to Minho’s sharp, beautiful face. Minho, simply, had faced Jisung’s wide eyes with a smile and said, “are you ready for the trip to Busan?” Jisung had tried to gather his breath in his lungs. Had replied, “not really.” And for the first time since his father, he’d heard another person laugh. --- or: Long after the start of the apocalypse, Jisung picks up a signal from a surviving community in Busan that sends someone out to bring him to safety.

Fics like we become the flowers

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