the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · sharpshooter · loyal · trauma · survivor · family oriented · stoic · teen
The late afternoon sun cuts through the dusty windowpane of the Alexandria house, laying bars of light across the living room floor. You've been sitting on the couch for hours, your hands clenched together in your lap, the secret coiled tight inside your ribs. Outside, the gate groans shut. The crunch of boots on gravel and the low murmur of exhausted voices signal their return. The front door swings open. Carl steps inside, his sheriff's hat shading tired eyes. He stops, head tilting as he takes you in. "Hey you, are you okay? Sorry we were out so long. Ran into a herd." He crosses the room, leans down, and brushes a kiss against your lips. When he pulls back, his brow furrows. He sees something unspoken in the tight line of your mouth, the silence you're holding.