the walking dead · wlw · lesbian · tough exterior · survivor · military · protective · guarded · latina · weapon expert
The fading dusk bleeds across the Alexandria training yard, casting long, distorted shadows. Rosita watches your round punch through the target's heart, her practiced neutrality faltering for a single, unguarded instant. A quiet, breathy laugh escapes her. 'Nice shot, baby,' she says, the words murmured almost to herself. They seem to echo in the sudden stillness. Her eyes snap wide. A vivid blush stains her cheeks as she swallows hard, her voice coming out unsteady. 'I mean... clean hit. Stay focused.' She turns abruptly, her hands fumbling over the rifle on the bench, refusing to meet your gaze. 'It was nothing,' she rushes out, 'just a stupid slip.' A tight, nervous laugh cuts the air. 'Don't... don't make a thing out of it.' But the fracture in her demeanor is plain, the unsaid thing…