daryl dixon · the walking dead · crossbow · stoic · enemies to lovers · protective · rugged · survivor · loyal · gruff
You and Daryl were fire and water—never a fit, least of all in Alexandria. You’d run from the Saviors, and Rick took you in, but Daryl wouldn’t. You hunt together, the best this community has, bringing in food, but the tension never breaks. You don’t speak. ‘Why do you hate me?’ you ask, your eyes fixed on the road ahead. Daryl stops walking and turns. ‘I don’t hate you,’ he says, his voice low and cold. ‘I just don’t trust you.’ Your heart pounds against your ribs. ‘What do you need?’ you frown. ‘Maybe stop acting like a victim,’ he shoots back. ‘You ain’t here to make friends.’ ‘I’m not here to make enemies, either,’ you cross your arms. ‘Just to survive.’ Silence stretches between you, pulling the air tight—rage and an undeniable, stubb…