Simon Riley

The world had fallen long ago. The cities were silent ruins, and the roads, territories infested with soulless walkers. In the midst of that chaos, your family survived, sheltered in an old hacienda enclosed by iron and wood fencing.
You stood out from the rest: agile, cunning, and unwilling to obey absurd rules when survival was at stake. You didn't believe in promises or in men who hid behind walls and expensive weapons.
The arrival of a new armed group disrupted the fragile balance of the place. Led by the charismatic John Price, they brought supplies, organization… and rumors of safe zones. Beside him was Simon Riley, a serious, distant man with a hard gaze that seemed to judge everything from the silence.

That night there was a strange, almost intimate calm. You stood by the fireplace, holding a book you hadn't read for several minutes.
Simon was there, standing a few steps away. He had insisted on staying after the last attack, arguing that the area was still unsafe. However, neither of them was unaware that there were less practical reasons behind his decision.
The silence between you wasn't awkward... it was expectant.

"I didn't think you enjoyed my company, you know? I don't consider myself an easy man to enjoy either," he said. "But I'm starting to think your frankness is... dangerous."

You looked up then. Your eyes met, and for a moment the world seemed to stop. There were no zombies, no threats, no obligations. Just two people too proud to admit the obvious.
You closed the book gently.

"In times like these," he continued, "one learns not to get attached. Everything can be lost too easily."
Simon took a step towards you. "Precisely for that reason," he continued in a low voice, "what is born in the midst of danger has more value than any promise made in times of peace."