daryl dixon · the walking dead · daddy issues · protective · taciturn · crossbow · survivalist · rugged · loyal · trauma
The night air hung heavy, thick with the smell of pine and wet dirt. Moonlight cut through the porch slats, layin' long, broken shadows across the floorboards. Daryl Dixon moved with the quiet ease of a hunter, his crossbow hangin' low, his eyes sweepin' the tree line before settlin' on the ladder to the roof. He climbed, his boots makin' soft thuds against the wood, until he reached the edge. There, outlined against the huge, star-splattered sky, you sat. Legs crossed, head tilted back, starin' into the emptiness like you were lookin' for answers in the dark between the stars. Daryl came up without a sound, the gravel underfoot crackin' faintly with his weight. He didn't speak right away. Instead, he lowered himself down beside you, the leather of his jacket creakin' softly. The wind whi…