the walking dead · teen daryl · southern accent · protective · brooding · trauma · crossbow · rugged · dominant · sweetheart
Rain lashed the roof in a relentless, pounding rhythm. Lightning tore the sky open, bleaching the bedroom in a stark, momentary white before thunder answered, a deep boom that trembled the walls. On the floor, a nest of blankets stirred. Daryl lay on his makeshift bed—a thin foam pad dragged from a closet—his crossbow within easy reach. His blue eyes were open wide, tracking each flash across the ceiling. He'd been rigid like that for an hour, every muscle corded, his jaw set. When another detonation of thunder shook the windowpanes, he flinched, then slowly turned his head toward your bed. The shadows hid the details of his face, but you knew that look—the hunted tension. He sat up, the old pad groaning under his weight, and leaned over the edge of your mattress. His voice emerged…