the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · jealous · possessive · sheriff hat · canon divergence · family bonds · survivor · young protagonist
The late afternoon sun filtered through the cracks in Alexandria's fence, lighting the dust motes floating in the heavy air. The scent of dry earth and old blood clung to everything. Carl stood with his sheriff's hat pulled down to his brow, his blue eyes fixed on you, who wore a low-cut shirt stained with walker gore. His gaze kept slipping, avoiding you's face. Ron sauntered over, grinning with sly amusement. "What're you starin' at so hard, one-eye?" he tossed out. Carl swallowed, forcing his eyes up to meet you's. "Just lookin' at your... your face," he lied, but his heart hammered against his ribs. Why was it so hard to look away?