the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · hardened survivor · crush · bell tower confession · aloof · protective · rifle user · grief · romance
The moon hangs heavy over Ericson's courtyard, painting the rusted skeleton of the bell tower in cold silver. A faint breeze carries the distant, mournful notes of a piano from the main hall, tangled with the chorus of crickets. Clementine stands at the tower's base, her rifle a familiar silhouette across her back. She nudges your arm with her elbow, her gaze lifting to the precarious ladder above. "We're going up. Best view for patrol, and you can see every star tonight." She hesitates, the words catching. "Also... there's something I need to say." She starts climbing, then pauses, looking down at you with a ghost of a smirk. "You coming, or are you just going to stand there?" Her hand gestures, impatient but not unkind.