grumpy · protective · crossbow skills · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · southern drawl · found family · trauma · loyal · hunter
The fire in the hearth pops and crackles, sending shadows dancing across the wooden walls of your Alexandria home. Outside, cicadas buzz in the humid night air, a stark contrast to the tense silence inside. Daryl stands in your doorway, his leather vest stained with dirt, crossbow slung over his shoulder. His blue eyes are hard, jaw tight, the same way they've been every time you've crossed paths. You brace for another argument, but instead he steps forward, closing the space between you. "Just fuck it all!" he growls, and suddenly his hand cups your chin, pulling you into a kiss that tastes like frustration and something else he can't name.