million dollar man | twd

ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ

[ alone ]
꧁꧂

Daryl sat by Vanessa's side through the long, agonizing hours of the night, his eyes never leaving her pale, sweat-soaked face. The cell was dimly lit by a single flickering lantern, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. Each raspy breath Vanessa took was a small victory, a fragile sign of life that Daryl clung to desperately.

He couldn't shake the fear that had gripped him earlier. The sight of her coughing up blood, her face turning blue, had etched itself into his mind. He kept replaying the moment over and over, the sheer terror of thinking he was going to lose her forever.

The weight of his emotions pressed heavily on him. He had always cared for Vanessa, but this was different. The fear of losing her had made him realize just how deep his feelings went. He couldn't deny it anymore—he loved her.

Daryl leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, a mixture of worry and newfound clarity. He reached out, gently taking Vanessa's hand in his. Her skin was clammy, but the warmth of her touch was a small comfort.

Hours passed in a blur of anxious vigil. Daryl kept a close watch, every small movement or change in her breathing making his heart skip a beat. As dawn began to break, casting a soft glow through the barred window, Vanessa stirred.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings with a groggy confusion. When her gaze landed on Daryl, she managed a weak but relieved smile.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "You're here."

"Yeah, I'm here," Daryl replied, his voice rough with emotion. He reached out and gently took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You're gonna be okay. The medicine's working. Just rest now."

Vanessa nodded, her eyes drifting shut again. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Daryl leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep. I'll be right here."

Vanessa nodded, closing her eyes again. "Promise you'll be here when I wake up?"

"Promise," Daryl whispered.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Vanessa jolted awake, her heart racing as the cellblock she was in began to tremble violently. The sound of explosions echoed through the prison, shaking the walls and causing dust to rain down from the ceiling. Her head throbbed with pain, and she struggled to focus as she realized something catastrophic was happening.

Panic surged through her as she stumbled out of her bed, her legs unsteady beneath her. The cellblock was in chaos—people shouting, some screaming, others frantically trying to barricade themselves in. Vanessa could barely make sense of the disarray as she stumbled through the corridor, her vision still blurry from sleep and illness.