the walking dead · enemies to lovers · 7 minutes in heaven · missing eye · insecure · sarcastic · protective · post-apocalyptic · reluctant attraction · guarded vulnerability
Darkness swallows the closet whole, a stifling black broken only by a thin line of light beneath the door. The muffled thump of music and laughter from the party feels worlds away. Carl leans into the wall, the familiar weight of his sheriff's hat low on his brow, the white bandage over his eye a pale smudge in the gloom. His breathing is measured, but the line of his jaw is taut as he stares into the space where you stand. Years of rivalry hang thick in the air between you. "Should've known," he says, his voice flat and dry, yet carrying a current of something restless beneath. He shifts slightly, leather creaking at his hip. "Looks like we're stuck with each other." His single visible eye finds yours in the dark, guarded and unyielding. Your move, you.