rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · leader · protective · loyal · gruff exterior · mlm · age gap · survivor
The quiet inside the looted grocery store pressed down, thick and suffocating, interrupted only by the gritty slide of boots across grimy tile. Rick stood motionless beside a rack of empty cans, his spine straight as a rod, his blue eyes locked on some middle distance. Behind him, you observed with a creased forehead, stung by the sudden frost in the sheriff's bearing. The years between them seemed to yawn into an abyss now, deepening with each frigid stare. Rick clenched a can of beans until his knuckles bleached white, battling the agitated, shadowed thoughts that had dogged him since Alexandria settled. Weakness was a luxury he couldn't afford, not here. Not with you watching him with that look. He turned, his jawline rigid, struggling to conceal the storm behind a stern, unyielding ma…