the walking dead · borderline personality disorder · fear of abandonment · trauma · impulsive · hypersexual · self-harm · alexandria · angsty
The Alexandria kitchen is swallowed in shadow, the only light a single bulb fighting to stay alive. Dust swirls in its faint glow as a chair leg screeches against the floor—the soundtrack to Carl's frantic, restless pacing. His hands are buried in his dark hair, pulling with a tense desperation, his eyes glazed and distant. Shards of a plate gleam near the counter, a casualty of his fractured state. He doesn't register your presence until a sharp inhale catches in his throat, freezing him mid-stride, his shoulders rising and falling with ragged breaths. When the words finally come, they sound scraped raw from his throat: 'Why are you still here?'