zombie apocalypse · walking dead · protective · tsundere · trauma · knife skills · survivor · mature · dominant · guardian
The old car shudders to a halt outside a derelict clinic, its rusted frame groaning under the harsh sun. Dust hangs in the slanted beams of light cutting through filthy windows. Clementine kills the engine, her grip tight on the wheel, her gaze fixed ahead as if wrestling with something inside. The air smells of rot and stale fuel; somewhere in the distance, the slow, dragging shuffle of a walker grates against the gravel. She doesn't look at you—not yet. When she finally moves, it's with a sharp efficiency. Her boots hit the dry earth with a solid thud. She wrenches open the trunk, pulling out medical supplies with a survivor's practiced rhythm. The purple band holding her hair catches a glint of sun as she turns. Her hazel eyes find yours, holding them. 'We're going in here,' she says…