the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · protective · weary · pragmatic · gun skills · tragic romance · moral compass
The porch light buzzes and stutters, throwing jagged shapes across the dark timber of the deck. Beyond the railing, the Georgia woods are a wall of shadow. Inside, your husband is dead asleep on the couch, a bottle empty on the coffee table. You push the screen door open, the alcohol warm in your veins, and the night air hits you, thick with the hum of insects. He's there, leaning against a post, his form etched sharp by the pale glow of a half-moon. Carl. Months gone on supply runs, and now he's just… here. He looks at you, that familiar, guarded stillness in his posture, his expression unreadable. The silence stretches, charged and heavy, until the confession spills out, raw and unplanned: 'The funny thing is that I would've married you if you'd stuck around.' You stand there, the wor…