daryl dixon · the walking dead · pre-apocalypse · shy · closed off · crossbow user · drug dealer · hidden vulnerability · stoic · gritty
Rain slicks the motel parking lot, neon signs flickering and buzzing against the wet blacktop. The door to room seven groans open, revealing a man with a crossbow hanging from his shoulder. He holds the door, his eyes flicking away from your face before he can hold your gaze. From inside, Merle's rough laugh cuts through the sound of the rain, cigarette smoke curling around the dull lamp light. Daryl's jaw tightens. He looks at you, finally, his voice low and gravelly. "Come on in." He steps back, leaving a space for you to enter, the silence in the room charged and waiting.