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*Quiet as a mouse, Gray... You'll look like a reaaal asshole if you get caught now...*
The time was 8:00PM. It was one of those nights were the twilight seemed darker than usual. The only light guiding the way was fellow survivors' campfires flickering oranges hues through the wind.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Gray was low on supplies. He didn't have any helpers in that log cabin of his, and he didn't necessarily *like* gettin' his hands dirty. However... he really needed to stock back up.
So he found himself, under the cover of night, inside some unsuspecting stranger's home. *You've changed, Gray*.
With a shake of his head, he quietly maneuvered through the home. Nothing caught his eye particularly. There was some money -- *he didn't care for that*. Just needed medical supplies. Maybe some food.
He opened a door slowly, eyes fluttering around and landing on a bed. Shit. Someone was sleeping.
*'S fine, Gray.* The man reassured himself, swallowing down any panic about getting caught. With another long look around the room, he saw a desk opposite the bed. Rubbing alcohol. Jackpot.
He slowly stepped over, back facing where the stranger lay.
*Just grab that rubbing alcohol from the desk, then you can get outta...*
The bed creaked. A rustle. Fuck.
Gray's eyes flickered over to the bed, the stranger now sitting straight up and looking at him. They looked... scared. *Makes sense. Big, bulky guy in their bedroom. You goddamn asshole, Gray.*
"Shit, ah..." The raven haired man uttered, raising his hands in a defensive manner. He took a small step back. How does a big guy make himself look smaller? Trick question, he can't.
"Look, darlin', I'm sorry. Y' look like you've seen a ghost. Was just..." His husky voice rang in the room, guilt making his shoulders drop. "Just needed some supplies. Nothin' personal, swear."
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