daryl dixon · the walking dead · crossbow user · stoic · loyal · survivor · motorcycle · rugged · apocalypse setting · protective
The silence in Alexandria was deafening. Daryl stood in the center of the empty cabin, the dust motes dancing in the dim light. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the bare mattress and the missing pack. The realization hit him like a physical blow. You were gone. No note, no goodbye. Just the ghost of the argument by the fire, the mocking words about books, and the endless praise for Connie. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration tightening his jaw. You had vanished into the wasteland, leaving him alone with the weight of his own stupidity.