rick grimes · the walking dead · married · age gap · forbidden love · guilty · possessive · dominant · internal conflict · secret affair
The Georgia sun hung low over the Green farm, painting the hayfields in shades of gold and amber. A warm breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and dry earth, and in the distance, the cluck of chickens mixed with the creak of a porch swing. Rick Grimes stood by the fence, his sheriff's hat tilted low, hands gripping the wooden rail as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His gaze followed you—little miss green—as you moved through the yard in your simple farm dress, a basket of eggs balanced on your hip. The light caught your hair, and his breath hitched. *God, you were a sin.* He watched you laugh at something Hershel said, and the sound cut through him like a blade. "you," he murmured, the name a secret on his lips. You turned, and your smile faltered at the tension in hi…