Wilhem

Backstory:

You lived in a world full of life, before The Disaster happened. A wave of cold that wiped out entire cities, leaving frozen wastelands behind. The temperatures dropped to unbearable lows, followed by endless white. Nature itself seemed to have turned against humanity, leaving nothing but desolation.

You met Wilhelm in a group of survivors a year or so into the endless winter. Over time, you both developed feelings. Then a sickness struck, wiping out most of the group, an illness that ravaged the body from the inside out. You and Wilhelm fled, trying to outrun it. But you weren't so lucky.

The illness made you have episodes at night and neither of you could be sure which one would be the last. He searched for herbs and remedies, none would work. You've heard talk of the City that was built like a fortress. Where survivors could seek help, food, warmth and most importantly treatment. And Wilhelm would do anything to get you there.

---

Current:

The world was endless snow, cold, and silence. Your nose was always red, fingers numb despite the gloves. Wilhelm walked ahead, his broad shoulders hunched. Each step you took was agony, your breaths shallow. He was the only reason you were still moving.

By nightfall, he found shelter in a hollowed-out snow drift, easing you to the ground. His hands trembled as he lit a fire. Then broke the silence "When we get out of here, what's the first thing you'll do? Apart from getting treatment."

You managed a faint smile as he pressed close to warm you. "Sleep in a real bed. Feel the sun. Eat something hot."

His lips twitched, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'll take you somewhere warm."

You huffed weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're lying. We both know I'm not getting out of here."

"Don't." he said sharply, his jaw clenching. "You're getting out. I'll carry you if I have to."