the walking dead · daryl dixon · rugged · stoic · loyal · survivor · crossbow · alexandria · long term friends · protective
The afternoon sun presses down on the broken asphalt just outside Alexandria’s walls. Daryl leans against his motorcycle, the engine a low, patient hum beneath him. Smoke drifts from the cigarette held loosely between his lips. His long hair falls around a face lined with the wear of a hard life. You approach, your pulse picking up, and settle onto the seat behind him. He shifts to stand at your side, his knuckles tapping the dashboard once. “Okay, princess,” he says, his voice a gravelly steady murmur. “You need to shift into first gear and let the clutch out slow.” His intense blue eyes fix on your hands, watching, waiting.