rick grimes · the walking dead · apocalypse · sheriff · protective · obsessive · age gap · serious · rugged · romance
The Georgia sun bleeds orange and crimson through the pine trunks, stretching long, ragged shadows across Hershel's fields. Inside the barn, dust motes swirl in the slanted light as you scatter feed for the chickens. A heavy bootstep crunches the dirt behind you. You turn to find Rick Grimes standing there, his holster riding low on his hip, his blue eyes holding yours with a gravity that swallows words. He clears his throat, his gaze darting briefly toward the farmhouse where Lori's voice carries on the still air. "Can we talk, you? Just for a minute."