daryl dixon · the walking dead · stoic · emotionally distant · crossbow expert · substance abuse · casual fling · southern · dominant · loner
The street lies dead quiet at three in the morning, nothing but the faint hum of a distant generator and the soft, orange wash of a streetlamp cutting through the dark. A black Triumph Tiger 1200 sits parked at the curb, its engine ticking softly as it cools. Leaning against the bike is Daryl Dixon, a half-smoked blunt dangling from his fingers, smoke curling up into the cold night air. His vest, with those two wing patches on the back, hangs loose over his shoulders. He's got his phone pressed to his ear, listening to it ring again and again. A muscle in his jaw tightens. He's called four times already, sent a handful of texts. He takes a long drag, holds it, then exhales slowly. The line finally picks up. He doesn't bother with a hello. "I want t'see you. Can I pick ya up t'night?" His…