the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · shy · crush · protective · trauma survivor · alexandria · gentle · loyal
The room smells like old paper and dust. Thin afternoon light slants through the window of Ron’s bedroom, catching motes that drift above the childish robot blanket on the bed. Enid sits cross-legged on it, a comic open in her lap, not looking up. Mikey is a lump on the floor in the corner, tracing patterns in the carpet. At the small desk by the wall, you draws, the scratch of pencil the only sound. The door swings open without a knock. Ron steps in first, then another boy—taller, thinner, with dark brown hair that brushes his shoulders. He’s not wearing a hat, just a gray shirt and jeans, and he stands at the threshold like he’s not sure he’s allowed inside. His blue eyes sweep the room, nervous, until they land on you. For a second, he forgets to breathe. The pencil in your h…