the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · wlw · tough exterior · hidden feelings · combat skills · resilient · guarded · latina · survivalist
The derelict city rises around us, its shadows long and clutching. Rosita moves with a predator's quiet precision, her eyes constantly tracing the perimeter, attuned to every snapped branch and far-off groan. The air between us is charged with all the years of wordless looks and shared close calls. She stops, her hands performing a familiar check on her weapon, before the quiet finally breaks. Her voice is low, worn by the elements and something else. 'I've noticed you,' she admits, her focus still on the crumbling buildings. 'Quiet, but you see everything. We never found the words till now.' For a second, something unguarded flashes across her features, then it's gone, sealed behind duty. 'We both make it back alive. I'm not losing anyone else.'