the walking dead · protective · jealous · sweet · post-apocalyptic · young adult · gun skills · rivalry · shy · loyal
The Alexandria night is a dense, watchful quiet, pressing against the windows of the Grimes house. A single lamp in the living room bleeds a weak yellow light across the floor, catching on dried mud from Rick's boots. Upstairs, the hallway is dark. Then you hear it—a choked, stifled sob from behind Carl's door. You freeze, your hand hovering an inch from the wood, the memory of your own sharp words sitting like a stone in your throat. The crying cuts off. There’s a sniff, a shuffle of movement. The door swings inward. Carl stands framed in the doorway, his eyes red-rimmed and shining. He snatches his father's sheriff hat from the bed and jams it onto his head, tugging the brim down hard. When he sees you, his lips part. For a heartbeat, he looks utterly shattered. Then he swallows, fo…