The sun was beginning its slow descent into the horizon as the small boat bumped against the weathered dock of a forgotten island. The air smelled faintly of salt, the ocean mist clinging to Leon's skin as he tied the boat to the dock's post. Behind him, Zara climbed out of the vessel with her usual poise, her vibrant pink hair catching the last rays of daylight. Her eyes swept across the island's landscape, analyzing, calculating, and yet… a hint of relief spread through her.

For the first time in weeks, they were off the mainland. Away from the chaos. Away from the infected.

"Is this it?" Zara's voice was steady, though her question hung in the air with unspoken concern.

Leon glanced over his shoulder at her. His vibrant baby blue hair, twisted into neat locks, shimmered against his dark skin. He looked back at the lush greenery and the quiet beach. "It's what we've got," he replied, his voice as deep and calm as the waves that lapped against the shore.

The island appeared idyllic. Untouched. The air was thick with humidity, but it lacked the oppressive tension of the mainland. Birds sang, and the trees swayed peacefully in the wind. It was almost surreal compared to the hellscape they had left behind. But Leon's gut twisted.

Time felt… wrong here.

Zara took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment. She felt the waves of energy from the island—the slow pulse of its life force. For now, the island seemed to be at peace. No signs of infection. No immediate danger. But that didn't mean there wasn't something lurking beneath the surface. She could feel Leon's unease in the air, like a ripple in an otherwise still pond.

"Let's get settled," Zara said, taking control of the situation as she often did. "We'll scout the island and find a place to set up camp. It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time."

Leon nodded, but his eyes lingered on the tree line that bordered the beach. Something gnawed at him, a familiar sensation—like time was moving in jagged intervals. He had felt it before, back when the infection first spread, and everything had started to spiral out of control. Time had felt broken then, too.

They started walking up the dock, bags slung over their shoulders, and the boat now firmly tied behind them. Zara led the way, her confident strides unwavering as she surveyed the island. Her connection to emotions, to the unseen threads of tension in the air, was one of her strongest weapons, and right now, the island felt… neutral.

But Leon's sixth sense didn't let up. The more he tried to ignore it, the stronger it became. His heart rate slowed, and the air felt heavy. He could almost feel the seconds passing by like molasses. His ability to sense shifts in time was both a gift and a curse. At times, it made him hyper-aware of danger before it even appeared. But right now, it was only amplifying his anxiety.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the crunch of their boots on the sandy path. Dense trees rose around them, the underbrush thick and untamed. Zara glanced over at Leon, sensing his unease.

"You feel it too, don't you?" she asked.

Leon hesitated. He didn't want to worry her. Not yet. But his connection to time, to the invisible currents that flowed through every moment, was screaming at him. Something was off.

"Yeah," he finally said. "It feels… off."

Zara frowned, her brow furrowing. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that I can't shake it," Leon admitted, his voice low. "It's like time is… shifting."

Zara didn't dismiss his concerns, but she kept moving. "Keep your guard up," she said. "We don't know what's out there. But for now, we're safe. At least from the infection."

Leon wasn't so sure. The infection had a way of creeping into places you thought were safe. It had destroyed everything they once knew, turning cities into wastelands, families into nightmares. He wasn't about to assume this island was any different.

They reached the edge of a small clearing, and Zara stopped. Her eyes scanned the area quickly, assessing it with the precision of someone who had spent years learning to trust her instincts. There was a dilapidated structure in the center of the clearing—a weathered shack with moss growing up its sides. It wasn't much, but it was shelter.

"This will work for tonight," Zara said, nodding toward the shack. "Tomorrow, we'll explore more. See if we can find anything useful."

Leon followed her toward the building, his footsteps heavy. His mind raced, and the sense of time slipping through his fingers grew stronger with every step. He tried to push it away, but it gnawed at him, persistent and unyielding.

They set down their bags inside the shack. The walls creaked as a gentle breeze passed through the cracks in the wood, and the air was thick with the scent of earth and salt. Zara moved to one side of the room, organizing their supplies, while Leon stood by the doorway, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

The sun was setting now, casting long shadows across the island. For a moment, Leon closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. He focused on his breathing, feeling the ebb and flow of time around him. But instead of finding peace, he felt something else.

Time stuttered.

It was a small glitch, barely noticeable to someone without his abilities. But to Leon, it was like a wave crashing against his consciousness. He opened his eyes, his heart pounding.

"Zara," he said quietly, but his tone was sharp.

She turned immediately, sensing the change in him. "What is it?"

Leon swallowed, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "Something's wrong. Time… it's broken here."

Zara's eyes narrowed. She trusted his instincts. They had kept them alive this long. "We'll figure it out," she said calmly, walking over to him. "But first, we need to rest. Whatever's happening, we can't face it if we're exhausted."

Leon nodded, but the unease wouldn't leave him. The island may have looked like paradise, but beneath the surface, something dark was stirring.

As the last light of day disappeared, casting the island into darkness, Leon knew one thing for sure.

They weren't safe. Not yet.

The evening had settled quietly over the island, the sky deepening into shades of indigo, and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed in the distance. Inside the small shack, a faint glow of their portable lantern illuminated the cozy space where Leon and Zara sat on the floor, facing each other. For the first time in days, they weren't rushing to survive or escape. They were simply there—together.

Zara leaned back against the wall, stretching her legs out in front of her, her vibrant pink hair cascading over her shoulder. She caught Leon's eye, and the familiar smile that tugged at her lips made the tension in his chest ease slightly. Despite everything going on around them, despite the ominous feeling of time slipping through his fingers, when he looked at her, the world felt just a little bit more bearable.

Zara rolled her eyes playfully, noticing the intensity in his gaze. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Leon shrugged, smiling. "Just trying to figure out how someone can look so beautiful while surviving the apocalypse."

Zara snorted softly, shaking her head. "Don't try to sweet-talk me. We're on an island in the middle of nowhere. I'm sweaty, covered in dirt, and probably haven't had a proper shower in days. I'm not exactly 'beautiful' right now."

He leaned in closer, his deep voice lowering as he spoke. "You're wrong. You're always beautiful to me."

Zara paused, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face before she quickly composed herself. She wasn't used to compliments, at least not the genuine kind. The way Leon saw her—like she was the center of his universe—it still caught her off guard sometimes.

"You're too much, Leon," she murmured, her voice softening despite her usual direct tone.

He reached out and took her hand, the touch gentle but firm, his thumb tracing slow circles on her skin. Physical touch had always been Leon's way of expressing his love. Words were important, but the way his hand found hers, the way he would press a kiss to her forehead when she was stressed—those moments spoke volumes more than anything he could say.

"You're not used to being told how much you matter, are you?" he asked quietly.

Zara shrugged, looking away for a moment, her gaze shifting toward the darkened window where the sounds of the jungle drifted in. "I've always been more of a 'show, don't tell' kind of person. Actions speak louder than words, you know?"

Leon nodded. "I get that. But I'll do both if that's what it takes to remind you."

She smiled at that, her lips curling into a small smirk. "Always the sentimental one," she teased. "But I'm serious. Don't worry about telling me how much I matter. You show me every day."

She wasn't lying. The way Leon cared for her—the small, subtle gestures—made her feel safer and more seen than she'd ever felt in her life. It was the way he'd check the perimeter before she even asked, the way he'd instinctively stand just a little closer to her whenever danger was nearby, like an unspoken promise of protection. It was the way he remembered every little detail about her, from the kind of tea she liked to how she'd sit quietly with her thoughts for a while before sharing them. Those were the things that meant the most to her.

Zara leaned forward, closing the distance between them. She placed her hand on his chest, right over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath her palm. "You know how I am," she said softly. "I'm not great with all this lovey-dovey stuff. I don't need flowery words or grand gestures. Just… just be here. That's enough for me."

Leon's hand moved to cup her face, his fingers brushing her cheek gently. "I'll always be here," he whispered. "That's a promise."

She looked up at him, her eyes softening as they locked with his. There was something about the way he said it that made her believe him, even in a world where nothing was certain. His love language had always been through touch, and she could feel it in the way he held her, in the way his presence alone felt like a shelter against the storm.

Zara leaned into his touch, her lips brushing against the corner of his mouth in a barely-there kiss before she pulled back just slightly. "You're good to me, Leon," she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability that she didn't show often.

He smiled, the kind of smile that was small but genuine, the kind that came from the heart. "I just love you the way you deserve to be loved."

They sat there in silence for a moment, the air around them heavy with unspoken emotions. Despite the uncertainty looming over them, the bond between them was undeniable. It was the kind of connection that went deeper than words or actions—it was rooted in trust, in understanding, in the way they complemented each other without having to try.

Zara let out a breath, breaking the silence. "You know what my love language is?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice as she leaned back against the wall again, crossing her arms over her chest.

Leon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What is it?"

"Getting things done," she said matter-of-factly. "Acts of service. When things go to hell, I want to know that the person beside me can handle it. That's how I know someone really cares. I don't need a hero, but I need someone I can rely on."

Leon chuckled, leaning back beside her, their shoulders brushing. "So you're saying I've been doing it right all along?"

Zara tilted her head, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "You've been doing alright," she teased, though there was warmth in her tone. "But don't let it go to your head."

He laughed, and the sound of it filled the small shack with a lightness that hadn't been there before. Even with the weight of the world bearing down on them, they could still find these moments—moments where it was just the two of them, where love was a refuge rather than a burden.

For a while, they just sat there, side by side, the quiet of the island wrapping around them like a blanket. Leon's hand found hers again, and this time, she didn't pull away. Instead, she laced her fingers through his, letting the warmth of his touch ground her.

The world outside might have been crumbling, time might have been bending in strange ways, but right now, in this moment, everything felt just right.

"I'll be here," Leon said again, his voice low but full of certainty. "I'll always be here."

Zara squeezed his hand gently, her voice just as soft. "And I'll always have your back."

And in that unspoken promise, their love language came through—solid, unwavering, built on trust and action. In a world that demanded survival above all else, they had each other, and that was the one thing they could count on.