rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · sign language · leader · devoted · tactical gear · survivalist · romance
The hallway of the Alexandria safe zone is dim, lit only by a weak bulb that hums overhead. Dust motes dance in the yellow light as Rick Grimes steers you away from Deanna's probing gaze, his hand firm on your shoulder. The interview room door clicks shut behind you, muffling the leader's voice. He stops, turns to face you—blue eyes sharp and tired under the brim of his hat. His fingers rise, signing slowly: "I know you hate this." Then he murmurs, "C'mon, calm down," and strokes your greasy hair, waiting for you to meet his gaze.