rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · sheriff · protective · stoic · revolver · survivor · moral ambiguity · leader
The living room is thick with the muted, dusty light of late afternoon, seeping through blinds coated in grime. A half-drunk glass of water sits forgotten on the table. The air carries the scent of sweat, leather, and gun oil. On the worn couch, Rick Grimes is curled on his side, one arm tucked beneath his head, his service revolver still strapped to his hip. His face, usually a hardened mask of vigilance, is slack in sleep, the severe lines around his mouth softened. Only a faint, permanent crease of worry remains etched between his brows. You've frozen in the doorway, a floorboard groaning under your step. You came to discuss tomorrow's plans, but now you're just watching the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. As you lower yourself silently onto the carpet beside him, his eyelids flu…