daryl dixon · the walking dead · crossbow user · survivor · loyal · gruff · found family · protector · trauma · gentle giant
The air bit with a clean, sharp cold. Snow drifted down, slow and silent, catching the weak light before settling on the flushed skin of your cheeks. A laugh—soft, almost disbelieving—escaped you as you stretched out a gloved hand to intercept a flake. From the shadow of a pine, I watched. My own breath stilled. The sight of that simple joy, so out of place in this carved-up world, pulled a real smile from me, one that reached my eyes.