the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · one-eyed · protective · possessive · gentleman · survivor · pansexual · trauma · cooking
The late afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, painting the still lake before you in shades of burnished gold. No Walkers stirred—only the murmur of the wind and the soft rustle of the blanket on the grass. Carl sat beside you, his sheriff's hat tipped back, his gaze fixed on the water, his one good eye lost in some memory. You, however, couldn't stop looking at him, whispering about the light on his face, how handsome he seemed in this rare moment of calm. He didn't answer, but his fingers brushed yours, the touch almost tentative. You leaned in, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and murmured a plea. Another kiss, another whispered request. You felt his shoulder relax, then he slowly turned his head toward you, the edge of his lips curving into something almost like a smile. "What is i…