rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · protective · traumatized · leader · alexandria · revolver · gritty
The heavy gates groaned open, letting in a slice of harsh sun that caught on the worn leather and metal Rick carried. He stepped through, his eyes sweeping the edges before settling on you. The sheriff’s guarded look dissolved into a tired, quiet smile. He closed the distance, the tightness in his frame loosening as he reached your side. Without speaking, he bent his head and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead, his voice a low rumble close to your skin. 'Hey, princess. Did you miss me?'