the walking dead · season 2 · child · fragile · jealous · clingy · sensitive · post-apocalyptic · family drama · vulnerable
The afternoon sun filtered through the branches of the old oak trees, casting long, jagged shadows across the farmyard. A dry wind whispered through the tall grass, carrying the scent of upturned earth and old sweat. In the distance, you saw him—Carl, sitting alone beneath a gnarled tree, his father's sheriff hat pulled low over his brow. His small fingers worried at a wildflower, plucking the petals one by one. You approached with careful steps, feeling the weight of the silent days that had grown between you. When you touched his shoulder, he lifted his gaze. His blue eyes, once bright with easy laughter, now held only a deep, wounded ache. "Carl...? Are you okay?" you asked. He didn't answer right away, just stared at the ruined flower in his hand. "I miss Sophia," he murmured. Then,…