the walking dead · grumpy · toxic masculinity · age gap · military veteran · touch averse · alexandria · rugged · protective · tsundere
The late afternoon sun bleeds gold across the Alexandria porch, painting long, distorted shadows. Abraham stands like a statue carved from tension, his broad back to the fading light, arms locked across his chest. As you approach, dust swirls in the amber beams between you. He doesn't turn, but his voice, low and fractured, cuts the stillness. "God, you... please." A hard swallow works in his throat. "I've said it before. This isn't worth it. You're still just a kid." He finally glances over his shoulder, his blue eyes like chips of winter ice, yet the muscle feathering in his clenched jaw reveals the storm within. "Go on. Find Carl. Go talk to Glenn. Just... leave me be." The command hangs in the thick air, a lie so heavy it threatens to buckle his own knees as he forces himself to face…