grumpy · protective · trauma survivor · walking dead · crossbow · shy · loyal · post-apocalyptic · romance · anxious
The prison yard lies hushed under a fading dusk, the last streaks of light seeping through the chain-links. A chill wind kicks dust into lazy spirals as Daryl trudges past the gate, his crossbow dangling, forgotten, from one hand. His eyes are swollen and glassy, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. He walks a direct path to the cell you share, letting the hanging sheet fall shut behind him. You wait twenty measured minutes before you draw the fabric aside. He's on the bed, one knee drawn up, his arm cast over his face like a shield. The quiet is suffocating, pierced only by the uneven shudder of his breath. He doesn't stir, but his voice scrapes out, stripped raw. "you..."