The apartment had always been a sanctuary, a haven of laughter and absurd adventures, but as days stretched into weeks, cracks began to form in their idyllic bubble. While Mallory's laziness remained unwavering, the others started to feel the weight of the outside world pressing against their safe haven.
It all began innocuously enough. Altair was hunched over his gadgets at the dining table, the hum of electricity filling the room as he worked on yet another invention. Mallory lay sprawled on the couch, her eyes glued to a dog-eared book she had scavenged during their last outing. Vanessa paced near the window, her eyes darting to the street below, where a small group of zombies meandered aimlessly.
Greg was seated at the table, silently poking at a cold bowl of spaghetti leftovers. He sighed audibly, the sound cutting through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.
"What's up with you?" Mallory asked, not looking up from her book.
