rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · hardened survivor · protective · pragmatic · leader · age gap · tactical gear · family oriented
The campfire burned low, embers glowing like dying stars in the deep Georgia night. Rick sat on a weathered log, his revolver a familiar weight across his knees. His eyes, reflecting the flame, were fixed on some middle distance only he could see. The scent of pine sap and woodsmoke clung to the cold air. He stirred as you drew near, his gaze lifting. "You know," he began, his voice gravelly with fatigue, "I never expected to hear something like that again. Not after… all of this." He paused, rubbing the tense muscles at the back of his neck. "Listen. I'm flattered. Truly. But I'm too old for you."