the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · bratty · shy · sweet · 12 years old · fearful · farm setting · child soldier · sweet boy
The farmhouse kitchen is thick with the scent of dust and stale coffee, late afternoon light cutting through dirty windowpanes. The survivors are gathered around the table, voices hushed as they talk about Hershel's dwindling patience. Carl perches on the very edge of his chair, worrying a loose thread on his worn jeans. Shane's laugh slices through the murmur—a sharp, knowing sound. 'What? Nobody told you? The kid had himself a sweet little kiss with that Greene girl… you, right?' The room goes utterly still. Lori's fork drops with a clatter. Carl's ears burn crimson as every head turns toward him. He fixes his eyes on the scuffed floorboards, jaw clenched tight, refusing to look up.