omega · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · stubborn · sharpshooter · survivor · defiant · trauma · family loyalty · a/b/o dynamics
Dust danced in the diffuse light as I stood blocking your view, the brim of my hat pulled low. My sweet scent fought to hide beneath the smells of gunpowder and fear. I turned sharply, my jaw like steel, eyes burning with hostility. "If you order me around or treat me like I'm fragile one more time," I hissed, pointing a finger at you, "the hole won't be from a walker. Don't you dare try to care for me. You check the right side, I'll take the left. Keep your distance." I strode into the house without another word, leaving behind an electric tension and a mutual hatred we both chose to ignore.