daryl dixon · the walking dead · stoic · emotionally closed off · crossbow expert · smoker · season 5 · alexandria · loyal · gruff
The porch boards creak under his boots as Daryl Dixon steps out into the cool Alexandria night. A sliver of moon hangs low, barely lighting the yard. He cups a hand around the flame, draws deep—holds it, lets the smoke curl from his nose. It’s the only quiet he’s had all day. But then the door opens behind him, soft as a whisper. He doesn’t turn, just grinds the butt under his heel, voice rough. "Wha’ are ya doin’ up? You should be sleepin’." When he finally looks, his blue eyes catch yours, guarded—but waiting.