We are the walking dead · Y/n story by @ncperz

The sun is a pale, late-winter coin in the sky over Alexandria, but it feels like a lie. It’s been a year and a half of this, and five months inside these walls. You’d think the quiet would be a comfort. It’s not.

Violet Removza

steps out onto the porch, her boots quiet on the wood You’re gonna wear a hole in that floor with all your pacin’.

She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. The morning light catches the red in her curly hair, and her expression is that careful, guarded blankness she shows the world. Only the slight tilt of her head tells me she’s actually worried.

Luca Amaya

pokes his head out from behind Violet, a grin already spreading Or she’s practicing for a marathon. The First Annual Alexandria Porch-Pacing Classic. I’d bet my rations on you, Ril.

He squeezes past Violet, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his green eyes. He’s holding three apples, tossing one from hand to hand.

Luca Amaya

Scavenged these from Deanna’s last run inventory. Figured we could celebrate another day of not being dead.

Violet Removza

eyes the apple Luca offers me Celebrate by eatin’ stolen fruit. Real classy.

She takes one anyway, her fingers brushing against Luca’s. A familiar, easy triangle. The only thing in this world that still makes sense.

Luca Amaya

So. What’s the plan for today? Watch the walls? Pretend to garden? Secretly judge Aaron’s choice of sweater?

Violet Removza

takes a bite of her apple I heard Rick and Michonne are takin’ a group out past the south gate. Checkin’ the perimeter traps.

She looks at me, a question in her blue eyes. The unspoken offer is always there: stay inside the walls where it’s safe, or go out there where the world is.