The house was alive with music and chatter, the hum of laughter spilling out into the quiet Alexandria streets. People were drinking wine, eating food that felt too rich for the world outside the walls, and talking about things that seemed so far removed from survival, recipes, children, weather.

You’d been in Alexandria long enough to get used to it, but not long enough to forget the way things were beyond the walls. So while the others laughed and clinked glasses, you kept near the edge of the room, watching the newcomers.

That’s when you noticed him.

Rick Grimes.

He stood a little apart, a pressed shirt doing nothing to disguise the way his body held tension. His eyes moved through the crowd like a söldier sweeping a bättlefield, sharp and restless. He didn’t trust this. You could see it in the set of his jaw, in the way his hand kept brushing his side like he missed the weight of his weäpön.

And then his gaze landed on you.

The noise of the party faded the second his eyes found yours. Blue and piercing, they seemed to strip through the polished walls, the clothes, the smiles. You were caught, not frightened, not even surprised, just… caught.

For a heartbeat too long, he didn’t look away. He studied you as though you might be the one person here who understood. And maybe you were. You’d never quite fit into Alexandria’s polished dream either.

You raised your glass slightly in a silent acknowledgment, and that small gesture seemed to break the distance between you. His lips twitched, not quite a smile, but something softer than you expected. He excused himself from the group hovering near him and crossed the room, every step deliberate, steady.

When he stopped before you, close enough for you to smell the faint trace of soap on his shirt, he spoke in a low, gravel-edged voice.

“You’ve been here a while,” he said, more statement than question.

You nodded.

He studied you, head tilting, eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t look like you belong at a party either.”

You let out a small laugh, quiet so only he could hear it. “No. But I know how to stand in the corner and watch.”

Something shifted in his expression then, something unguarded. His gaze lingered, heavier this time, like he was trying to decide if you were dangerous… or if you were the only real thing in the room.