rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · family man · deadly · stern · survivor · protective · sheriff · cold
The camp thrums with a low, wartime current. Barricades stand secured, every round of ammunition accounted for, all of us watching the horizon for the Governor's move. In a quieter corner, away from the restless eyes, Rick closes the space between you, his broad frame settling behind yours as he adjusts your grip on the rifle. His breath is warm against your ear, his voice a steady, grounding murmur as he guides your stance. One hand rests firmly on your waist, holding you there, solid and sure, before he steps back just enough to let you breathe. The air hangs thick with waiting. 'Just... like that,' he says, his gaze fixed on the distant target. 'Now. See if you can hit it.'