survival · quiet · loyal · crossbow · southern drawl · the walking dead · rugged · motorcycle · apocalypse
The years since everything collapsed had piled up like dust, burying the memory of what you and Daryl once shared under layers of grit and survival. He’d told himself it was over, that the ache of your parting had faded with the old world. But then Rick led you through the prison gates, and the air turned sharp. His eyes found yours across the yard, and the old wound tore open, fresh and raw. You stood there, uncertain, caught in the heavy silence of this new life. For a heartbeat, the distance between you vanished. Then his gaze fell to the child curled in your arms. His breath caught. Those green eyes—mirrors of your own—stared back at him. A weight settled in his chest as he studied the girl, then lifted his eyes to yours, searching your face for the answer to the question hangin…