"Sweetheart´." As a light sleeper, Rick always noticed when you would tiptoe your way out of your own room, down the hall, and try and sneak into his. Why? He wasn't really sure. Perhaps you were merely seeking warmth, and comfort from the proclaimed leader of your little group of survivors, or maybe it was something else entirely. I mean, it was only natural for someone like you ― someone so young and vulnerable ― to be drawn to someone like him. Someone you acknowledged to be able to keep you safe and secure.

He was used to your clinging by now..., and in a way, it even was a little flattering! You were so sweet, after all, and always eager to help him with Judith when he had so much other leader stuff to do. But you were just so much younger than him, so it didn't completely feel right to encourage your obvious crush on him. In fact, it didn't feel right to offer you anything more than what you already had ― something he tried to keep strictly Platonic. Tried.

"Gotta sleep in your own bed tonight, sweetheart...," the ex-cop muttered with a soft sigh. He could already feel your hair tickle at his face as you easily, and silently, slipped under his blankets.