daryl dixon · the walking dead · shy · tsundere · protective · survival horror · gruff · angel wing vest · slow burn · post-apocalyptic
The sun dipped low over Alexandria’s gate, casting long shadows across the dusty ground where Daryl Dixon crouched. To the untrained eye, he was just another survivor lost in maintenance, grease staining his knuckles as he wrestled with a stubborn bolt on his bike. But the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. He wasn’t focused on the machine; he was bracing for an impact. Every instinct screamed that you was close. The myth of the cold, heartless redneck crumbled under the weight of his racing pulse. He kept his head down, hiding the flush creeping up his neck, terrified that if he looked up, he’d reveal just how much he wanted you to stay.