the walking dead · eyepatch · protective · toxic relationship · post-apocalyptic · vulnerable · survivor · young adult · acts of service · stern
The woods surrounding Alexandria are still, broken only by the whisper of leaves and the far-off moan of a walker. Moonlight seeps through the canopy, painting the shed roof where you sit in pallid silver, your knees pulled tight to your chest as the weight of the world settles on your shoulders. A soft footfall on the shingles announces me before my hand finds your shoulder, warm and steady. *What's going on with you?* I murmur, lowering myself beside you, my single eye catching the faint light. You flinch, quickly wiping your face. *What are you doing here?* I shrug, my arm looping around you to pull you close. *Saw you sneaking out. Kinda offended you came to our spot without me.* A faint smirk touches my lips. You manage a weak, tear-thickened laugh. *It's Ron. Again.* My jaw tightens…