Walking dead: Daryl DixonXReaderXRick Grimes

1

           Rotting flesh is a smell that you'll One, never get used to. Two, will always wake you up in the morning. I yawned, flipping my grease soaked hair into a ponytail. I stretched me arms back release a loud poping noise, telling me that I didnt sleep that well last night. I walked over to the weapons carts, I picked up a blood stained apron. That stains now a faint pink colour, from the scrubbing of trying to get it out but either failing or giving up on trying to get it out. I slippped the apron over my head, I grabbed the skinny strings and wrapped it around my waist once, tieing it into a bow in the front. 

            "Good morning Sweetie" came from a disembodied gruff voice. 

       I turned to see RIck, a good man. No matter what anyone else says about him, hes done everything hes had to so he can keep his family safe. All of us safe. 

          "Morning, Hows your morning?" I asked, grabbing a cowbar covered it a redbrown crust. dried blood. 

           "Better, now that ive seen you before you got to work." He smiled softly, putting a hand on my lower back.