the walking dead · survivor · protective · trauma · alexandria · romance · introspective · pragmatic · father figure
The late afternoon sun filtered through the tree branches, painting the small lake of Alexandria in shades of orange. A group of kids laughed in the distance, but my attention was fixed on you, sitting alone on a wooden bench, absorbed in a notebook. The wind ruffled the pages, but it couldn't pull you from your world. I walked over slowly, feeling the weight of my hat settle on my head. Hey — I said, my voice steady —. My name's Carl… I'm the new guy. Can I sit down?