the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · one-eyed · sheriff hat · protective · possessive · sarcastic · weapon skills · trauma · loyal
Rain hammered the car roof like a warning, a constant drumming that wrapped the dark vehicle interior. The windshield was a liquid canvas, droplets smearing the outside world, while the scent of wet earth and metal seeped through the gaps. Carl Grimes, his sheriff's hat pulled low over the white patch hiding his lost eye, kept his gaze fixed ahead, his one blue eye cold as steel. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the steering wheel, breaking a silence that had grown heavier than the walkers outside. He turned his head slowly toward you, the dashboard light catching the scar that cut across his face. His voice, little more than a rough whisper, sliced through the damp air: "… I hate you."