Eternally Yours || Daryl Dixon

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In the dark confines of a closet on the topmost floor of the department store, Luisa hid with her eyes screwed shut. The gun that had gone off two hours prior had echoed throughout the desolate city and sent shivers of fear down her spine. Since the start of the end of the world a month ago, Luisa had locked herself up in abandoned houses, slowly making her way into the city. Finally, after a month of taking things slowly and making it into the large city of Atlanta, the breath of relief she had let out after rushing into the department store and sneaking past the dead ones was cut short the moment the gun went off.

It was as if the gates of hell opened, almost swallowing her whole as the dead turned and caught a glimpse of her – lighting a fire in their undead stomachs. That was two hours ago—two hours after she rushed all ten floors of the store and barricaded herself in the nearest closet she could find. Below her, she didn't hear anything. No growls, nothing being knocked over, and definitely no other gunfire ringing through the dangerous streets of Atlanta, Georgia. Fearfully, Luisa gripped the handle of the gun she barely knew how to use tightly and pushed the door open slightly, peering through the crack she allowed.

On the tips of her toes, she crept out from her hiding spot and held her breath as she inspected the large room. In the doorway, two of the undead shambled, low, barely audible growls escaping their bloodstained mouths. Despite having more than a few run-ins with the dead, they still terrified her. Sucking in the deepest of breaths, Luisa crept forward, her fingers absentmindedly wrapping around an anchor paperweight that resided on one of the desks. She continued creeping forward, her nose scrunching at the smell the bodies secreted, faintly reminding her of roadkill.

She lifted her arm, her hand shaking as she prepared to smash their heads in when something behind them caught their interest. A man grunted loudly as he barreled into the dead ones, his unique voice hissing curses at the two as he struggled against them. He held his right hand to his chest tightly, wincing in pain as he gripped the stringy hair of his enemy and started to bang its head against the wall. Snapping out of her shocked daze, Luisa grit her teeth and brought her hand down, smashing the paperweight over the remaining monsters' head.

The man let out a tired breath of relief and turned to face his savior, a sleazy smile spreading across his lips as he took in the sight of the woman before him. Her skin was darker than he would've liked, but she was beautiful. Her wavy dark brown hair was tied back in a loose ponytail with tendrils framing her face. Her bow-shaped lips were chapped, and the bottom lip was slightly thicker than the top lip. Her eyes were a deep brown that seemed to resemble copper when the sun hit them just right. Even in his delirious, fading state, he couldn't help the attraction he felt for the woman. Maybe she's just tan. He finally settled on, trying to find a good reason why she was darker and justify his attraction to her.

"Well, well, well," He weakly chuckled, his eyes combing her once more, "Ain't I the lucky one?" He winced once again and held onto his injury, unknowingly bringing Luisa's attention to it. His right hand was missing and leaking blood, leaving trails on the white floor. Luisa bit her lip and looked at his stump, knowing that time was vital.

"We need to cauterize that," Luisa spoke, taking a slow step backward, "I think I saw a kitchen down the hall,"

The man's sleazy grin fell as he picked up the smallest of accents in her voice, his mouth faltering and settling into a frown. He'd never been one to associate with illegals, and he wasn't about to start. He'd risk his chances bleeding out than to accept this broad's help. Luisa, picking up on his new hostility, scowled. She didn't need to be a rocket scientist to pick up on his sudden hesitation or the nasty look on his face once he heard her speak. She knew she had a slight accent, but people have always told her it wasn't noticeable. I guess when you're racist, you pick up on these things.