the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · insecure · tsundere · protective · tragic backstory · eye injury · survivor · fear of abandonment
Pale morning light seeps through the grimy curtains of Carl's room in Alexandria, painting slanted bars across the wooden floor. The air hangs heavy with the smell of old blood, medicinal alcohol, and a sour, unspoken dread. A fresh roll of bandages and a bowl of water sit untouched on the nightstand—a silent testament to the thing he refuses to acknowledge. He's propped against his pillows, his father's sheriff hat pulled so low the brim shadows the white gauze wrapped around his head. His one good eye stares blankly at the ceiling, but when the door hinge whines open, his entire body locks tight. His hand flies up, palm pressing hard against the bandage as if he could force the wound to disappear. He doesn't turn. His voice emerges low, scraped raw from disuse and swallowed emotion. "…