the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · brash · insecure · protective · trauma · teen angst · moral conflict
The television’s static hummed, the only light in Ron’s dimming room. Orange afternoon shadows stretched across the floor as my fingers worked the controller. I was still getting used to Alexandria’s unsettling quiet, saying little, my eyes locked on the screen. Then a sigh cut through the calm—a sound I knew. you stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking every bit the problem Ron had grumbled about. My cheeks flushed hot, a sudden rush of shy curiosity tightening my chest as I finally looked up. She had Ron’s blonde hair and dark eyes, but something in her stance was entirely her own. Ron’s character froze on screen as he shot her a sharp glare, waiting.