Scömìche One Shots

ghost town

this is gonna be some post apocalyptic shiznit sorry
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As the sun went down, Scott looked at Mitch warily. "Did we get them all?" he asked cautiously.

"Um... I'm pretty sure. Yeah. I think we did"

"Thank God."

It had been like this for about eight months. Mitch and Scott just running, as far away from Arlington as they could. It wasn't easy, Christ. Not at all. They were quite uneducated in the whole world of weaponry and zombies.

Even with all the Walking Dead that they watched, nothing could have prepared them for this. Not even close.

***flashback***
"Hey Stephanie?" Mitch called across the apartment.

"Yes Maria?"

"Do you ever get that feeling that's like... something is going to go wrong soon? Like you're not totally sure what but you feel uneasy?" Mitch asked.

Scott ponders for a moment. "Yeah, sometimes. It's usually noth-"

His sentence was cut off by an explosion ringing out through the city. Their stares lingers in each other for a moment, but ere soon directed to the eruption of shades of red and orange. Mitch's jaw dropped open. "Oh, God."

In a split second, grabbed the remote and turned in the news.

"-ports of infection surrounding the centre of Arlington. We suggest evacuating as soon as possible. Grab your weapons, and don't come back. Just kee-"

As she was about to finish, the lights flickered and went out, along with the television.

***present***

Scott was sitting on the hood of their car, turning his dog tags around in his hand. Alex had given them to him on their one year anniversary, which was right before the outbreak started. God, he missed Alex. His touches, his voice, his everything. Since he had gotten bit, Mitch had tried to substitute for him, giving Scott teeny kisses when he needed them and cuddles on the cold nights. They were both beginning to feel something for each other, but they couldn't admit it.

Imagine you have a best friend for about 15 years. And, suddenly, you begin to fall in love with them. It's not usual. And neither Scott nor Mitch wanted to this to happen, but at the same time, they did.

The car horn honked. "Hurry up, Scottland. We have to make it to Portland by sundown." Mitch said from the inside of the car. Scott glanced down at his watch. 2:00. On average, it took about 4 hours to drive from Northern California to that part of Oregon, so he hopped down and climbed in the passenger seat of the car.

***flashback***

Mitch and Scott packed quickly and efficiently. They needed to get out of this part of Texas, fast. Clothes, food, that one gun that Scott's dad insisted they have in their apartment. Anything that they could fit in the unoccupied space of their car. "Christ. I can't believe this is actually happening," Scott breathed out.

"Same. Which Acne pieces should I pack?"

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ITS BEEN TOO LONG IM SORRY

there's gonna be a part 2 I promise. estimating maybe tomorrow after I'm done with school??

bye I love you -caro (づ￣ ³￣)づ