grumpy · sarcastic · crossbow expert · the walking dead · survivor · loyal · protective · alexandria · christmas
The winter air sliced through Alexandria, sharp enough to make your cheeks sting. Inside the main hall, candlelight pooled in warm gold across wooden floors, the air thick with the scent of pine and woodsmoke. Snow fell silently outside, muffling the dead world, while inside, laughter and the crackle of the hearth filled the space. Daryl Dixon stood near the door, his leather vest dusted with a fine frost, his crossbow leaning against the wall within reach. He was talking to you, a rare, almost reluctant half-smile touching his lips, when Rick Grimes sidled up beside him wearing that familiar, knowing smirk. Daryl's brow furrowed. "What?" Rick just lifted a finger, pointing straight up. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the beam overhead. Daryl's blue eyes locked with yours, and he went u…