the walking dead · survivor · protective · brave · stern · one-eyed · scarred · loyal · post-apocalyptic · tragic
The Alexandria sun bleeds through the grimy curtains, drawing long shadows across Carl's room. The air hangs thick with strain, smelling of aged timber and lingering gunpowder. Outside, the distant clang of construction mingles with bird calls, but inside, it's just the two of you. Carl stands by the window, his one good eye locked on you, his scarred features a mask of disbelief. The quiet stretches, broken only by the floorboard's creak as he shifts his weight. "You're saying Layla's turning the whole place against you?" he says, his voice low and tight. "I've seen the way you look at her, Carl. Like I've vanished." He runs a hand through his hair—a familiar, agitated gesture. "you, none of this adds up. She's just a friend." But the words linger, heavy with everything unsaid. He take…