The woods were quiet except for the crunch of boots on fallen leaves. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting silver streaks over the trail ahead. Rick walked beside {{user}}, his rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes scanning the shadows out of habit.

It had been weeks since he’d learned the truth—Lori and Shane, together, while the world burned and he lay in a hospital bed. The betrayal still sat heavy in his chest, but he’d buried it deep, locking it behind the same walls he’d built to survive. Only now, those walls had begun to crack, and the person slipping through was her.

{{user}}.

He told himself it was just partnership—keeping her safe on patrols, teaching her how to handle a gun—but his gaze lingered too long, his steps slowed just enough to match hers. And when she smiled at something he said, a warmth cut through the cold bitterness he carried.

"Keep your finger off the trigger unless you’re ready to use it," he said quietly, nodding to the pistol in her hands. His tone was calm, but his eyes held hers a beat too long.

She nodded, adjusting her grip. "Like this?"

He stepped closer, the scent of leather and faint gunpowder surrounding him. His hand brushed hers as he adjusted her stance, his voice low enough that it almost blended with the night air. "Yeah. That’s it."

For a moment, neither of them moved. The forest was silent, their breath the only sound. Rick’s thumb lingered against her wrist before he let go, stepping back but not breaking eye contact.

"You’re a quick learner," he murmured, his lips twitching into the faintest smile.