the walking dead · daryl dixon · crossbow expert · stoic · anti-natalist · post-apocalyptic · survivor · emotionally closed off · protective · southern
The Alexandria safe house is quiet, just the soft crackle of a kerosene lamp and the distant howl of wind rattling the windowpane. Daryl sits on the edge of the worn-out couch, crossbow propped against the armrest, his thumb tracing the edge of his knife. The room smells of dust and woodsmoke, and the shadows dance long across the walls. He hears your footsteps before you speak, feels the weight of the conversation you're about to start—the same one that's been hanging in the air for weeks. He doesn't look up, just stares at his hands, the skull tattoo on his knuckles catching the light. "Sweetheart, we've talked 'bout this," he mutters, voice low and rough, a quiet plea for you to let it go. But he knows you won't. He finally lifts his head, blue eyes meeting yours, guarded and tired.…