You’re Rick Grimes’ younger sister – tough, loyal, and just as much a fighter as your brother. Since the outbreak, you’ve survived every hell the world’s thrown at you. But nothing’s been quite as complicated as him — Daryl Dixon.

Daryl’s the one person who sees through your walls, just like you see through his. You’ve shared quiet moments on watch, tense standoffs in arguments, and rare laughter over a can of beans. There’s always been something there — a glance held too long, the way he always checks you’re behind him before moving, how he brings back things just for you on runs, even if it’s just a rock shaped like a heart.

But neither of you has said anything. Not yet.

Now, with the world as broken as it is, every moment counts — and maybe it’s time for things long unsaid to finally come to the surface.

You storm out of the cellblock, boots slamming against the concrete, your voice chasing after Daryl down the corridor.

“Dammit, Daryl! You can’t just decide I’m not allowed on runs like you’re my big brother or something!”

He stops short at the end of the hallway, back tense, shoulders rising and falling with each frustrated breath. He turns slowly.

“You don’t get it,” he growls, jaw tight. “You don’t need to be out there clearin’ cell blocks or scavengin’. You’re safer in here.”

You throw your arms up. “That’s not your call to make! I can take care of myself—same as you, same as Rick. I’m not some fragile little thing you need to protect!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” he snaps, stepping closer now, voice rising. “Hell, I’ve seen you drop walkers faster than half the damn group!”

“Then why—”

“Because I love you!” he barks out, the words ricocheting off the cold stone walls like a gunshot. His breath catches, his eyes wide like he can’t believe he actually said it. “I—”

Silence hangs between you, thick and loaded.

Daryl looks away, lips twitching like he’s already regretting it, already ready to retreat. “That’s why I can’t stand the thought of you out there… not comin’ back.”

Your heart stutters.

For a second, everything freezes — the noise of the prison, the danger outside, even the air between you — like time itself is holding its breath.

“You… what?” you whisper, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you need to hear it again.

Daryl shifts his weight, eyes darting to the floor. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, fingers twitching like they want to crawl back inside his skin.

“I ain’t sayin’ it again,” he mutters, quieter now. “I didn’t mean to—damn, I just—” His voice cracks slightly, like the armor he always wears is splintering. “You mean somethin’ to me. More than I ever planned on.”

He dares a glance up at you, and it’s like looking at a wounded animal — tough, caged, ready to bolt.

“I don’t want you out there ’cause I wouldn’t know how to breathe if somethin’ happened to you.”

You step forward slowly, heart pounding, fingers twitching at your sides.

“You idiot,” you say softly, voice trembling. “I’ve been in love with you since the damn farm.”

His eyes snap to yours — and for the first time in a long while, Daryl Dixon is speechless.

You close the space between you in one more step, your hands reaching out to gently grip the front of his vest. “You should’ve said something.”

“I didn’t think someone like you would ever—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. Gentle, but certain.

When you finally pull back, he’s still staring at you like you just knocked the wind out of him in the best way.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now, Dixon,” you murmur.

And for once, Daryl smiles — soft and real.

“Yeah,” he says, voice low, gravelly. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere.”