CHAPTER 305: APOCALYPSE ROMANCE 15

Sasha sighed and rubbed her temples.

If the villain was alive, she’d have to find him before the world did. But moving now, while the streets still crawled with things that looked like failed biology experiments, was suicide.

"Maybe I should wait," she murmured. "Let the chaos cool down. Maybe a month. Or two. Yeah, let the monsters get bored first."

The thought of spending a month hiding in the wilderness with only Alvaro for company made her grimace.

"I’d rather fight the mosquito demons," she said flatly.

But deep down, she knew the truth—traveling while the chaos was still fresh was reckless, even by her standards.

The air was still thick with fallout, the sky a swirling bruise of smoke and lightning. Every direction she looked promised either fire or teeth.

Still, sitting still felt worse.

Waiting meant thinking. And thinking meant remembering how close she’d come to caring.

She looked at Alvaro again. The moonlight painted him in soft silver, his lashes dark against pale skin. He looked calm—too calm for someone who’d been shot, flipped in a car, and attacked by mutant bugs.

Sasha scowled. "You sleep like you didn’t almost die twice today."

He didn’t answer, of course, but his lips twitched slightly. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he heard her.

Or maybe he was just mocking her silently, because that would be exactly his style.

She crossed her arms and leaned back, muttering to herself, "No more attachments. I’ll patch him up, make sure he’s stable, and that’s it. After that—strictly professional apocalypse partnership. No smiles. No flirting. No heroic sacrifices."

Outside, thunder rumbled—a deep, rolling sound that felt like the world laughing at her.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she grumbled, glancing at the sky. "Famous last words."

There was still chaos in the communication line.

The radio flickered and vanished. The silence that followed felt heavier than the smoke outside.

She finished her food, tossed the wrapper outside the window, and stretched her sore neck. Tomorrow, she’d move. Maybe toward the northern mountains—there were whispers of strongholds there, pockets of immigrants who’d barricaded themselves before the collapse.

If the villain was hiding, he’d go somewhere safe, somewhere secluded.

She traced a line on the cracked map spread across her lap. "North it is," she murmured. "If the monsters don’t eat me first."

Her eyes grew heavy. The exhaustion finally caught up, dragging her into a half-sleep filled with gunfire, laughter, and that damn crooked smile of Alvaro’s.

When she woke, dawn had turned the world to gold. Alvaro was still breathing steadily, the light brushing over his face like a gentle lie.

For a fleeting second, the apocalypse felt . . . quiet.

Almost peaceful.

Sasha sighed. "Don’t get used to it," she muttered, starting the engine. "Because I sure won’t."

Alvaro stirred with a groan, blinking against the dim light that filtered through the tinted windows. His throat was dry, his voice rough.

"A-auch . . . I’m alive?" he muttered, half in disbelief, half in complaint.

"Barely," Sasha said from the driver’s seat without looking up. "Eat up. We’ll change your bandages and patch you up after breakfast."

When his eyes finally focused, Alvaro froze. On the portable tray in front of him sat a full, steaming breakfast — fried rice, perfectly seared fish, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and even a glass of orange juice with condensation running down the side.

There was even a napkin. A napkin.

He blinked once. Then again.

". . . Are you serious right now?"

"What?" Sasha asked, chewing on a strip of bacon like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"You’re serving me a five-star breakfast in the middle of an apocalypse."

She raised a brow. "Would you rather I serve you despair and dust? Because that’s the other option."

"I mean—" he gestured helplessly, "—shouldn’t we conserve food? You know . . . since it’s, uh, the end of the world and all?"

Sasha snorted. "Please. I’ve got half the city’s supply in my dimensional ring. Unless the universe implodes, we’re not running out of anything. So stop whining and eat before it gets cold."

He stared at her for a moment, mouth open, trying to decide whether to laugh or worship her. "You’re telling me you’re a walking grocery store?"

"More like a moving fortress with snacks," she said proudly. "I didn’t survive this long by eating expired canned beans."

Alvaro smiled — that tired, lopsided smile that made him look both exhausted and charming. "Then I guess you’re my lifeline now. If I plan to survive this, I need to make sure you stay alive."

Sasha pointed her fork at him like a weapon. "Glad to know we agree. You protect me, and I keep you fed. Classic win-win."

"This is actually good. Like—really good. When did you have time to cook this?"

"I’ve got a kitchen module in the back," Sasha said casually, as if it was the most normal thing ever.

He turned to stare at her. "You have a kitchen. In an armored van. During an apocalypse."

She shrugged. "What can I say? I like my bacon crispy and my enemies crispy too."

Alvaro laughed — a real laugh this time, warm and contagious. It felt good, hearing it after everything they’d gone through. The sound made Sasha’s lips twitch, though she tried to hide it behind another sip of juice.

"This van’s really something," Alvaro said between bites. "You’ve got a bed, food, medical supplies, and apparently, a full breakfast buffet. I could only hope it lasts."

Sasha leaned back, her gaze drifting to the cracked windshield. "Me too," she admitted. "Though if it doesn’t, I’ll just steal another one."

He smirked. "Remind me never to park near you."

She grinned, eyes flicking to him. "Good. You learn fast."

For a while, the only sounds were the quiet hum of the van’s engine cooling and the clink of utensils. The chaos outside felt like another world — distant, muffled. It almost felt peaceful . . . which was dangerous.

Peace was a lie in times like these.

"So," Alvaro said finally, breaking the silence, "what’s the plan now?"

Sasha chewed slowly, considering. "We lie low for a while. Let the worst of the chaos burn itself out. It won’t be long before people start adapting — organizing camps, securing safe zones. Maybe even rebuilding."

Alvaro nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. Humans are good at that. Surviving. Even when we shouldn’t."

She gave him a side glance. "You sound like you’ve seen this before."

"I’ve seen enough war zones to know the pattern," he said. "First comes panic. Then violence. Then the ones who don’t die start rebuilding what’s left. It’s ugly . . . but it works."

Sasha exhaled, staring at the horizon through the cracked window. "Then I hope you’re right."

She still had a villain to win.