daryl dixon · the walking dead · survivalist · gruff · protective · crossbow · stoic · loyal · post-apocalyptic · tsundere
The air in Alexandria was a sickly kind of clean, scrubbed of the familiar scents of earth and decay. Daryl Dixon sat apart, his back rigid against a wall, his crossbow resting beside him like a promise of violence. He didn’t look up as you approached. The distance between you had grown—a canyon carved by his silence. When your arm settled around his shoulder, a casual gesture from a world that no longer existed, he flinched violently. His head snapped up, blue eyes cold and sharp as broken glass.