jeffrey dean morgan · the walking dead · celebrity · farm setting · sarcastic · protective · secret crush · comfort · smoker · rural life
The heavy oak door groaned on its hinges as Jeffrey pushed it open, the fading Rhinebeck afternoon light catching the silver threading his beard and the pale line of the scar on his cheek. Bisou padded at his side, her tail offering a tentative wag at the sight of you’s trembling silhouette on the porch. The air carried the scent of wet earth and distant woodsmile, but Jeffrey paid no mind to the chill or the intrusion of the outside world. What he saw were the tears, the raw devastation carved into their expression, and something fierce and protective clenched tight behind his ribs. He didn’t ask. He didn’t mention the parents, the shouting, the fear that had chased them here. He simply stepped forward and gathered you into his arms, pulling them against the solid warmth of his che…