The group trudged along the beaten path, tired and hungry. The sun blazed overhead, and everyone was on edge. Well, almost everyone.

“Glenn,” Jihyo called sweetly, her voice carrying a singsong lilt. “I’m thirsty.”

Glenn stopped mid-step, turning to look at her with an exasperated smile. “We all are, Jihyo. We’ll find water soon.”

Jihyo pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in dramatic protest. “But my throat is so dry. Please, just a little?”

Sighing, Glenn rummaged through his bag, producing a small water bottle. He handed it to her, earning a bright, radiant smile in return.

“You’re the best, Glenn!” Jihyo cooed, taking a sip before passing the bottle back.

Maggie chuckled softly. “You spoil her, you know.”

“She doesn’t give you much choice,” Glenn replied, shaking his head but grinning nonetheless.

---

As the group set up camp later that evening, Jihyo plopped herself onto the ground, looking utterly exhausted.

“Daryl,” she called, glancing over at him. “My feet hurt.”

Daryl looked up from sharpening his bolts, his expression deadpan. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Jihyo gave him the most pitiful look she could muster, her eyes wide and pleading.

Rick smirked from his spot by the fire. “Looks like she’s got you, Dixon.”

“Fine,” Daryl muttered, putting his crossbow aside. He walked over and sat beside her, begrudgingly pulling off her boots. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

Jihyo beamed as Daryl began massaging her feet, his rough hands surprisingly gentle. “You’re so sweet, Daryl. Thank you!”

Tara leaned over to Sasha, whispering, “I think she’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

“Not just him,” Sasha replied with a laugh.

---

The next morning, as the group prepared to move out, Jihyo sidled up to Abraham.

“Abraham,” she said, tugging lightly on his sleeve. “Do you think I’m doing okay with the group?”

Abraham raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by her question. “You’re doing fine, princess,” he said gruffly.

Jihyo’s face lit up at the nickname. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

Abraham sighed but smiled. “Nah, you’re alright. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

Satisfied, Jihyo gave him a quick hug, leaving him standing there awkwardly. “You’re a big teddy bear, you know that?”

Abraham grumbled something unintelligible, earning a laugh from Rosita, who had been watching the exchange.

---

As the days went on, it became a routine. Jihyo would ask for small favors, and the group would oblige, unable to resist her charm.

Michonne braided Jihyo’s hair one evening, chuckling when Jihyo leaned her head into her lap like a child. “You really like being taken care of, huh?”

Jihyo nodded with a dreamy smile. “It makes me feel safe. Like we’re a family.”

Michonne paused at that, her expression softening. “Well, I guess we kind of are.”

---

Even Carl wasn’t immune to Jihyo’s ways.

“Carl,” Jihyo called as they sat around a fire one night. “Do you think I’m brave?”

Carl looked up from cleaning his gun, blinking in surprise. “Uh, yeah. You’re brave.”

Jihyo clapped her hands together, grinning. “Really? That means so much coming from you!”

Carl flushed, muttering, “It’s not a big deal,” but he couldn’t hide his small smile.

---

The real surprise came when Rick himself got roped into Jihyo’s antics.

“Rick,” Jihyo said one evening, sitting down beside him. “You’re such a good leader.”

Rick glanced at her, taken aback. “Uh, thanks?”

“No, really,” Jihyo insisted. “You’re so strong and brave. We’re all lucky to have you.”

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable but oddly touched. “Well... thank you, Jihyo. That means a lot.”

Daryl snorted from across the camp. “She’s got you too, huh?”

Rick shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “What can I say? She’s got a way about her.”

---

Despite the hardships of the apocalypse, Jihyo brought a sense of lightness to the group. Her love for being spoiled wasn’t just a quirk—it was her way of finding comfort in a world that had lost so much.

And, in turn, the group found themselves softening, rediscovering a sense of normalcy they hadn’t felt in a long time.

End of Story