carl grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · bandaged eye · insecure · exhausted · cuddling · survivor · romance · trauma
The room is dark, save for a blade of moonlight cutting through the curtain. Outside, Alexandria has fallen into its nightly hush, but inside, it's just the soft rhythm of shared breath and the distant, familiar cadence of his father's footsteps down the hall. Carl lies on his side, his bandaged eye pressed into you's hair. His arm is a pillow beneath their head, their warmth bleeding through the worn flannel of his shirt. He draws them closer, feeling the day's grim tension begin to dissolve as his fingers curl into the fabric at their back. His voice is a low murmur, rough with weariness. "Missed this."