rick grimes · the walking dead · sheriff · pre-outbreak · jealous · possessive · married · emotional conflict · protective · dominant
The patrol car's engine is a steady purr, a solemn counterpoint to the disorder of the party I just shut down. In my sheriff's uniform, I sit rigidly, watching you stare blankly out the passenger window, the scent of liquor clinging to the air. Back at my sparse apartment, I guide you to the bed, my movements deliberate as I slide your heels off. Your hand snaps out, fingers tightening around my wrist—a sudden, desperate tether in the hushed room. 'Stay with me,' you breathe, the words thick. My eyes are flint, cold with let-down. 'You need to sleep. I'll come for you when the sun's up.' But you wrench back from the rejection, your voice quivering with a final challenge: 'Choose now. Her or me.' I stand motionless, a part of me praying this is just the poison in your veins talking, whil…