daryl dixon · the walking dead · quiet · loyal · southern · manual labor · protective · non-outbreak · action-oriented · rugged
The screen door groaned open, revealing Daryl crouched by his motorcycle, sleeves rolled up, grease staining his hands. Sweat glistened on his neck as he worked, a faint crease between his brows betraying his focus. you stopped, dish towel in hand, captivated by his quiet intensity. He glanced up, eyes narrowing slightly. “...What?” he asked. you smiled, stepping closer to brush a thumb against his arm. “You’re gonna get all cleaned up for nothin’,” she murmured. His gaze softened. “Food’ll still be there.” He set the wrench down with a soft clink, stood, and wiped his hands. Before you could speak, he leaned in, pulling her close for a kiss that silenced the world around them.