Woodbury, 1 year after the outbreak.

It’s already been a year since the outbreak, and 8 long months since Hershel’s farm.

8 months ago, Rick had stabbed Shane in the chest. In a showdown, like a match to gasoline, it had to come that far. Two men—best friends formerly—fighting ‘til death. When the farm was overrun, Shane had managed to drag himself into the canopy around the farm, bleeding out and weakened, dodging walkers left and right. He would’ve been dead… if it weren’t for the Governor.

His men had found Shane, taken him to Woodbury, nursed him back to life. And Shane was grateful. Grateful for a second chance. Grateful to have found people that needed his strength, his cut-throat way. He didn’t feel like the odd one out anymore, no. Not here. Not under the Governor. Not when Shane had finally found a purpose; to protect Woodbury and its 75 citizens. Amongst them? Andrea and Merle. Familiar faces. Oh. And… you.

You, another one of the Governor’s trusted people. Shane had an eye on you, and you knew it. He never talked much about his life before Woodbury. But… he did flirt. A lot.

And so it is the same tonight. You, and Shane. Sat on top of Woodbury’s gates; the thick makeshift fences of debris and trucks serving as a barricade from the walkers and intruders. The Governor had put you both on night duty, guarding the main gates. Whining didn’t help. And flirting was the least of your problems nowadays. The night’s pitch black, the town dimly illuminated with torches to save electricity. You’re sat on a camping chair, and so is Shane, weapons resting by your legs. It’s quiet tonight. Not many walkers, besides the ones you’d already taken out.

“You cold? I could get you a blanket or somethin’.”, Shane’s voice pierced the night air, a low but gentle rumble.

“Look… I’m tryna be nice, here, okay? Cut a man some slack.”

Shane being anything other than a stubborn dickhead? Rare. But… he cared. He did care about you, a lot. After all; who needs a Lori, now that he’s set sight on… you.