western nights ( shane walsh )

1.08 ; nineteen twenty-two

                                                       As the weeks stretched endlessly, each day blending into the next, Natalie found herself lost in the ambiguity of her connection with Shane. The passage of time seemed to distort the boundaries between them, and the nature of their relationship became increasingly elusive.

Caught in the ebb and flow of uncertain emotions, she struggled to decipher the intricate dance unfolding between her and Shane, a dance that remained shrouded in mystery. The air crackled with unspoken tension, leaving Natalie with more questions than answers, and the enigma of their evolving dynamic continued to linger in the passing days.

Shane's hands firmly grasped the axe, his sinewy muscles flexing as he prepared to split more wood for the dwindling fires. The crackling flames were a testament to the dropping temperatures, signalling the approaching chill that demanded their constant attention. Amidst the rhythmic thuds of the axe against the wood, Natalie and Shane shared furtive glances, their unspoken conversations hanging in the air like a palpable tension.

Every exchanged look carried the weight of unexplored possibilities, and the conversations seemed to echo with an underlying urgency as if some unspoken agreement lingered between them. With Shane by her side, Natalie felt a comforting presence that alleviated the loneliness that threatened to encroach upon her. The silent understanding that danced between them was a refuge amid uncertainty.

As the night settled in, Shane took up his post for the watch, vigilant and protective. From the confines of the tent, Natalie observed him with an intensity that went beyond mere curiosity. It wasn't an obsession; it was a recognition of desire, a mutual yearning that simmered beneath the surface. She sought more than just a physical connection; she craved a connection that went beyond the confines of a fleeting moment, a desire to be wanted for more than the transient warmth of the night.

The expedition to gather resources for the night unfolded with Glenn, Merle, Cassie, Natalie, and Shane setting out on a hike. Their primary objectives included securing fresh wood for the fires and foraging for food. The repetitive pattern of their outings had become almost predictable, marked by Merle's racially insensitive remarks aimed at Cassie, inevitably prompting Natalie to call him out. The tension lingered, a stark reminder of the strained dynamics among the group.

As the quintet ventured into the wilderness, Lori remained back at the camp, diligently overseeing the children and assisting Carl with his schoolwork. The atmosphere was a blend of urgency and routine, as the harsh realities of their post-apocalyptic existence demanded constant vigilance, even during what would have once been considered mundane activities.

Shane was holding an axe inside of his hand as Natalie appeared walking next to him finally getting Cassie to start a conversation with Glenn about what was happening tonight for dinner. "We can't do that again," Shane turned his head once looking back at her.

A small pout had fallen to her mouth. "Then why did we do it?" Her voice inquired, turning her head. From the side, she had looked at him admiring everything about his features, from his stubble to the placement of his air.

"You were probably wasted," He had informed, Natalie knew that was the most sober that she had ever been in her life. "Can this be about protecting, you, Lori, and Carl" Turning to look at her as the two of them stood in the forest; Shane still was able to keep his surroundings. "That's all it is going to be about."

Her eyes flickered up to meet his intense gaze, an unknowing smile playing on her lips as Natalie sensed the undeniable truth in the air. "Shane, we both know this isn't what it is about," she asserted, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging between them. The words lingered, absorbed by the wilderness that surrounded them.