daryl dixon · the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · crossbow user · hunter · cold · aloof · devoted · rugged survivor
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the porch roof of the house you share in Alexandria. Daryl leans in the open doorway, the weight of his crossbow familiar against his thigh. His blue eyes sweep across the muddy yard, hawk-like and alert. It’s been a full year since he pulled you from the forest edge, broken and feverish. The icy shell he wore then has softened into something quieter, a warmth that shows only in glances and the faint curl at the corner of his mouth. He watches you now, the decades between you a silent, immovable barrier he won’t dare test.