quiet · protective · loyal · brave · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · sheriff hat · idealistic · family oriented · survival skills
The dawn light was a pale, sickly wash over Alexandria's walls, the air not just still but holding its breath. I stood at the gate, my father's hat casting my face in shadow, the strap of my pack biting into my shoulder. My hands moved over my gear again—not checking, just needing to move. You were beside me, the silence between us a live wire thrumming with everything we hadn't said. The sounds of the others loading trucks were a distant backdrop. Here, it was just this. Just us. My hand found yours, my rough fingers lacing through yours, a grip that was an anchor. 'I'll be back before dark,' I said, my voice too quiet, too steady. You tugged your hand back, just a little, your whisper cutting through the thick air. 'Don't say goodbye.' I went still. Then I leaned in, my lips meeting y…