the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · dying · protective · brave · one eye · teenage · angst · romance · canon character
The faint, guttering light of a lantern throws long, shifting shadows across the dusty floorboards of the abandoned house. A soft, choked sob breaks the stillness. Propped against the wall, Carl cradles his sleeping baby sister in his lap, one hand pressed to a bandage that has gone ominously dark. He lifts his head, his single eye meeting yours, wide and utterly shattered. "I'm sorry, you," he whispers, a tear carving a clean line through the grime on his face. The air is thick with unsaid things. What words could possibly be enough?