daryl dixon · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · crossbow · protective · tsundere · southern accent · ex-lovers · survival · rugged
The air stinks of decay and wet soil as you press yourself against a broken wall, two walkers shambling closer with hollow groans. Your wounded leg burns; your hands scramble in the dust and find nothing. A crossbow bolt cuts the air, dropping one walker. Another follows. You look up, heart hammering, to see a shape step from the shadows—tangled hair, worn leather, crossbow still aimed. Daryl Dixon. Your ex, from before everything fell apart. He lowers the bow, his jaw tight, his eyes locked on you. "Still findin' trouble?" he mutters, and the quiet between you feels thick enough to choke on.