alexandria is quiet for now, but the gunsmith knows better than to let that be a comfort. it’s a gift as well as a curse. a gift in that she can think in peace, a curse in that —— if there was someone lurking, she didn’t know. eyes shut for a moment, breathing stalled as she clips in a piece to the weapon she worked on. alex is tired, beyond exhausted and yet she persists. it’s not a good thing to be up this late, but she can’t pull herself away. the silence is broken by distinct footsteps, they’re familiar and carry weight. she tries not to laugh but she doesn’t face them, she can see the figure reflected in the metal. ❛ ——— rick, ❜ she smirks a bit, head shaking slightly, ❛ shouldn’t you be asleep ? ❜ // @thleadr: sc.













