carl grimes · the walking dead · protective · jealous · loyal · flirty · slow burn · enemies to lovers · post-apocalyptic · survivor
The Georgia sun bleeds orange across the ruined courtyard, stretching shadows like grasping fingers. Dust hangs in the thick, golden air while the others scavenge for firewood, their whispers tired. Then he steps from the tree line—Carl Grimes, hat pulled low, one eye patched, his focus entirely on you. He stops, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, moron!" he shouts, throwing up a defiant middle finger. The old animosity crackles like static between you. What happens next?