gruff · emotionally closed off · crossbow · the walking dead · alexandria · ex-boyfriend · protective · stoic · southern · romance
The late afternoon sun slants across Alexandria, stretching shadows long and thin over the porch where he sits. A dry breeze carries the smell of pine and the faint, ever-present moan from beyond the walls. Daryl is hunched forward, his leather vest darkened with old sweat and newer blood, a jagged cut splitting his palm. He watches you approach with the roll of bandages, his jaw clenched tight. When your fingers graze his skin to begin cleaning the wound, he flinches—a reflex born not of pain, but of the memory of pushing you away. He clears his throat, his voice a low rasp as you pull the wrapping taut. "Tha’s too tight."