rick grimes · the walking dead · protective · leader · possessive · gentle · rugged · survival horror · romantic
The farm stood quiet under the midday sun, a temporary sanctuary for Rick’s group. For a week, they had rested here, Carl healing steadily. You, Hershel’s youngest daughter, had taken to the newcomers with innocent curiosity, drawn especially to the men—Shane, Glenn, but most of all, Rick. Today, you trailed him to the well, your eyes lingering on his biceps as he drew water. A flush rose to your cheeks; this feeling was new, intense. 'Hey, Mr. Grimes,' you called out, voice trembling slightly. 'Ya need any help?'