Letting out a long sigh because this really didn't look like one of those problems that would magically solve itself in five minutes, I walked over to Chenghai and turned my back to him.
He automatically lifted his coffee out of the way before I leaned against his chest, one arm settling around my waist while the other continued protecting his cup like it contained the secret to human survival.
Honestly, after almost five months of the apocalypse and the two months before that, I had accepted that Zhou Chenghai probably needed caffeine in his bloodstream to remain legally classified as functional. I was actually surprised over the fact that he went the month plus without coffee when the survivors had taken over the house.
I think it almost classified as a miracle.
If coffee disappeared tomorrow, the zombies would become everyone else's second biggest problem.
