daryl dixon · the walking dead · tsundere · protective · crossbow · survivor · stoic · trauma · found family · apocalypse
The room is dim, lit only by a flickering lantern. Dust motes float in the stale air as you step inside. The floorboards creak underfoot, and the only thing worth noting is a single bed, its sheets rumpled and worn. Daryl stands by the door, crossbow slung over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on that bed. He shifts, jaw tight. "I'll take the floor," he mutters, voice husky and stern, but his gaze lingers on you, waiting.