The Long Dress

"Quinn, maybe I should go with you instead!" Cyril said with concern.

"She's a girl, she can help me change my clothes. If you come, you can't even get in. What would you do?" Quinn responded.

"Why don't you stay here and chat with Dr. Howard, okay?" Quinn spoke more gently to Cyril, feeling somewhat indebted to him.

She had never used such polite terms with Cyril before.

"Okay, okay!" Cyril, suddenly treated so tenderly by Quinn, was somewhat taken aback.

Watching Quinn and Miranda walk away, Cyril patted Howard on the arm proudly and said, "How about that? My wife is awesome, right? We had our issues in high school, but now everything is settled. Quinn finally chose me!"

"And your girlfriend isn't bad either. I guess we're even now. Let's leave the past in the past!"

His words carried a hint of a victor looking down on the vanquished.

"Is that so? Well, congratulations then!" Howard replied with a faint smile, shaking Cyril's hand once again.

Meanwhile.

By the time the elevator doors closed, Quinn could no longer hold herself up and stumbled, collapsing into Miranda's arms.

It was her first time being treated so roughly by Howard, and six times at that.

Who could withstand that?!

Quinn had endured it all just to keep Cyril from suspecting anything.

On the seventh floor, Quinn had a bridal makeup room.

All the zombies on that level had been lured away, and the security doors were tightly shut, accessible only by elevator.

Though there were zombies in other rooms, they couldn't get out.

Despite the seventh floor being safe, the occasional sounds of zombies banging on walls and vomiting next door were still terrifying.

That's why Quinn and Cyril preferred to stay in the box seating area with other survivors rather than resting in the rooms.

This time, the wedding dress was so contaminated by Howard that Quinn was forced to come up and change.

"This pervert!" Quinn fumed at the thought of Howard using her veil and low-cut gown to wipe his penis.

Such a sacred wedding dress, which a woman can wear only once in her life, and on a day every woman dreams of.

Yet, Howard treated it so roughly.

"Trust me, you'll come to like this pervert!" Miranda said with a laugh.

"You know what he did to me, and you're not angry?" Quinn asked incredulously.

"Why should I be angry? I saw he was having fun, and that made me happy," Miranda replied truthfully.

"But shouldn't love be faithful? He has you, how can he do such excessive things to another woman?"

"He behaves this way with me, and I can understand it; after all, we had a complicated past, and he has issues with Cyril."

"He torments me as a way of getting revenge for past humiliations, but I can't understand how you are not angry," Quinn said, puzzled.

Quinn looked curiously at Miranda, trying to see if she was hiding her emotions or lying.

But she failed, Miranda's eyes were clear, and when she spoke of Howard, her eyes sparkled with love that seemed genuine and effortless.

Ding!

At that moment, the elevator doors opened, and the two entered the room to change clothes and continued their conversation.

"The so-called faithfulness in love is actually a modern concept; in the past, this was not the case!"

"Women were expected to be faithful to men, but men were not required to be faithful to women."

Miranda, interested in history, had read many books on the subject and held dual bachelor's degrees in Human History and Art History from a prestigious university.

As for being a flight attendant, it was purely a personal preference.

As a carefree heiress, she could choose any job she wanted, study anywhere she liked; her main pursuit was freedom.

To ordinary people, if they had money, they would likely choose to relax and enjoy life.

However, Miranda had been living this affluent lifestyle since birth and had grown tired of it; she found herself drawn to the life of an ordinary person.

"If we go back to primitive times, it was a matrilineal society where men were subordinate, and women ruled everything!"

"So, essentially, the world's views on love are what the powerful impose on the weak."

"Only the powerful can define what love looks like. If the weak want to survive, they must follow the rules and depend on the powerful."

"In a post-apocalyptic world, for naturally weaker women, men are the powerful!"

"And Howard is a king among the powerful. I see endless possibilities in him. Being with him is the greatest fortune of my life!"

Thinking of Howard, Miranda's lips curled into a sweet smile. After a moment, she finished braiding Quinn's hair and said softly, "It's your fortune too!"

"I don't think so. Cyril's uncle is the mayor and has already arranged for the army to evacuate us first!"

"Howard might be good at healing or killing a few zombies, but what's that compared to the army?" Quinn said indignantly, still upset from being mistreated. Since she couldn't win in reality, she sought to recover some dignity through words.

"I know you've fallen for him too; after all, being handled by him, it's hard for any woman not to feel something," Miranda said, her cheeks flushed as she remembered Howard's warmth and intensity, involuntarily touching her abdomen.

Soon after, Quinn touched up her makeup and changed into a red long dress.

The dress had a high slit up to the thigh on the side, but was tight at the front and back. Quinn nervously turned left and right in front of the mirror, making sure she wouldn't reveal too much, before finally breathing a sigh of relief.

"Shouldn't you wear something underneath? I brought a spare if you need it!" Miranda said, pulling out a small piece of fabric from her pocket.

It was all because of Howard. Every time during feeding, he would get it wet, and it felt uncomfortable sticking to the body, so it had to be thrown away.

That's why Miranda often carried several spares with her.

"I... don't need it, I'm fine like this!" Quinn declined.

The moment these words left her mouth, Quinn's face turned red. She had instinctively answered that she didn't need it, not because she was forced to refuse due to Howard's threat.

Could it be that deep down she had already accepted what Howard said? Even this bare style felt exciting to her, and she was looking forward to what would happen next. But these were all subconscious thoughts.

It was only after she had spoken those words that Quinn realized. Could this be the real her?

She looked at her blushing face in the mirror, a hint of allure flowing through her eyes and eyebrows.