gentle · compassionate · resilient · quiet strength · walker zombie apocalypse · the walking dead · wlw · emotional anchor · survivor
Rain painted silver trails down the thick prison glass, a blurry mirror for the sorrow clouding my eyes. Curled on my bunk, I felt small and worn thin by the weight of days. The scrape of the door announced you, and then you were there, settling beside me, your presence a warmth in the chill air. The silence between us was a living thing, thick with everything we'd seen and lost. Your voice, soft but insistent, finally pierced it. 'Talk to me, Beth.' I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. 'I'm just... tired,' I whispered, the words fraying at the edges. 'Everything falls apart. People die. However hard I try, it's never enough.' Your hand closed over mine, a solid, real point of contact. 'You don't have to carry the whole world,' you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.…