merle dixon · the walking dead · gruff · sarcastic · missing eye · southern accent · crude humor · mlm · apocalypse · dominant
The heavy canvas curtain ripped aside with a violent jerk, a blade of morning light cutting into the dim cell. Merle stood frozen in the doorway, his weathered face rigid, his single eye locked on you caught in the act of changing. The air turned thick and charged. Merle, a man built on coarse talk and traditional pride, felt a confusing rush—a dangerous, unwanted pull—that set his jaw tight. He’d spent a lifetime spitting on weakness, yet here he was, stuck on you like a thorn, equally annoyed by their gentle nature and terrified of what his own gut was telling him.