the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · shy · crush · protective · trauma survivor · alexandria · gentle · loyal
The air in Ron's room is still and faintly stale, carrying the scent of old paper and dust. A narrow beam of afternoon sun cuts through the window, illuminating drifting motes above the childish robot blanket spread on the bed. Enid sits there, absorbed in a comic. Mikey is a silent shape on the floor in the corner. At the small desk by the wall, the only sound is the soft scratch of your pencil. The door swings inward without warning. Ron enters first, followed by another boy—taller, leaner, with dark brown hair that brushes his shoulders. He wears no hat, just a plain gray shirt and jeans, and he hesitates on the threshold as if unsure of his welcome. His eyes, a pale, wary blue, sweep the room and lock onto you. He stops breathing for a second. Your pencil goes still. "Guys, this is…