The room was quiet, bathed in the soft, golden light filtering through the window. The faint sound of breathing grew heavier as the girl, her eyes closed, pressed her lips against the man's. She hesitated for a moment, her chest rising and falling rapidly, betraying her nervousness.

  The man, Vincent, sat rigid, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy.

  The room fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the faint rustling of fabric as Christine, the young girl, clung to Vincent, her body pressing against his. She kissed him fervently, desperately seeking a response.

  Vincent tried to gently push her away, mindful of her injury, but Christine grabbed his hands and placed them on her sides. Eventually, Vincent stopped resisting, his hands raised in surrender, his body tense as he sat on the edge of the bed, allowing Christine to vent her emotions.

  Christine, undeterred, shifted her weight, straddling Vincent. She pulled the tie from her hair, letting her waves cascade down her back. Her eyes glistened with tears as she kissed him again, her body moving against his, hoping to elicit a reaction.

  Vincent remained still, his lips sealed, his eyes calm but unyielding. Christine's efforts were met with silence, and gradually, she stopped, her tears falling onto Vincent's face as she sat back, her heart breaking.

  "Why don't you like me?" Christine finally whispered, her voice trembling.

  "It's not that I don't like you," Vincent replied gently. "You're young, Christine. There's so much ahead of you. This world... It's not the place for this kind of thing."

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  Christine shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You're lying!" she cried out, her voice echoing through the room.

  In the living room, the group fell silent at the sound of Christine's cry. Manuela stood up, her eyes narrowing as she moved toward the bedroom door. She paused, listening, but didn't enter.

  Inside the room, Christine sat on Vincent's lap, her hands covering her face as she sobbed. Vincent sighed, pulling her hands away and cupping her face. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

  "You're only sixteen," Vincent said softly. "You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't waste it on someone like me. I'm more suited to be your uncle than your lover."

  Christine's tears continued to fall as Vincent lifted her and placed her on the bed. But as he tried to pull away, Christine wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him back down. In a moment of desperation, she bit his lip hard.

  Vincent recoiled, pushing her away and jumping off the bed. He touched his lip, his fingers coming away bloody. "Damn it, Christine!" he snapped, his voice sharp with anger.

  Christine's eyes widened in horror as she realized what she'd done. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" she cried, scrambling off the bed and following him to the bathroom.

  Vincent glared at her, his lip still bleeding. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? In this world, even a small wound can kill you!"

  Christine shrank back, her hands twisting together nervously. "I... I forgot. I didn't think..."

  Vincent turned away, his frustration evident. He leaned over the sink, examining the cut in the mirror. The blood continued to flow, a stark reminder of the fragility of life in this new world.

  Manuela burst into the room, her eyes widening at the sight of Vincent's bleeding lip. "What happened?" she demanded, rushing to his side.

  Christine, still crying, backed away as the others crowded into the room. Laura, the older woman, pulled Christine into a hug, murmuring soothing words.

  Vincent sighed, his anger fading as he looked at Christine. "Just... go," he said quietly, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

  Christine hesitated, then turned and fled the room, her sobs echoing down the hallway. The sound of a door slamming shut signaled her retreat to another room, where her cries continued unabated.

  Vincent leaned against the sink, his head bowed. The weight of the world, and now this, pressed down on him. He knew Christine's feelings were genuine, but in a world overrun by death, love was a luxury they couldn't afford.