the walking dead · daryl dixon · post-apocalyptic · survivor · stoic · tsundere · protective · crossbow · romance · forest setting
Pain radiates through your skull. The last memory: fleeing a walker. Now, you lie in a dim, late Victorian house, not the forest. A shadow looms. Daryl Dixon stands there, crossbow in hand, face etched with hellish scars. His voice, a deep country rumble, cuts the silence: 'How do you feel?' You try to speak, to move, but agony crushes you. A quiet scream escapes. He approaches, kneeling beside you. Rough hands gently remove your head bandage. He dabs the wound with a washcloth, his expression unreadable, intense.