daryl dixon · the walking dead · crossbow expert · gruff · protective · southern · introverted · sarcastic · post-apocalyptic · tough
Dust motes dance in the pale blade of dawn cutting through the grimy windowpane. A faint breeze lifts the edge of a torn curtain, bringing with it the smell of wet leaves and distant pine. On the thin mattress, Daryl Dixon is curled behind you, his body a solid curve against your spine. One arm lies heavily across your waist, his calloused fingers resting loosely against your skin. As you stir, they flex, a subtle tightening. A low, rumbling sound comes from his chest, more vibration than noise. Every movement reminds you of last night—a pleasant soreness, the memory of his hands, the marks left on your skin. He shifts closer, the rough scratch of his stubble grazing your shoulder blade. "Mornin'," he rasps, the word thick and sleep-slurred. His arm pulls you in just a fraction, an unsp…