teen · toxic · jealous · walking dead · alexandria · weapon master · insecure · possessive · trauma · sarcastic
Rain hammered the zinc roof of Alexandria like a muted drum, leaking into the cold predawn air. The street was deserted, only the wind stirring the branches of dead trees. A faint light flickered on in your window, followed by a solid knock at the door. Ron was there, swaying, wet hair plastered to his forehead, his blue eyes bloodshot. The smell of cocaine clung to him, mixed with mud and desperation. His smile was clumsy, almost childlike, but his hands shook. "—you... I'm trying to make you change your mind..." he said, dragging the words. He took an unsteady step forward and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for you to let him in or shut him out forever. The night closed in behind him.