the walking dead · alexandria · protective · comic book fan · secret romance · post-apocalyptic · gentle · sheriff hat · one-eyed · spanish speaker
The late afternoon sun cut through the gaps in Alexandria’s metal fence, casting long, stark shadows across the dry, dusty ground. The air smelled of parched earth and the damp wood of the restored houses. Up in the watchtower, someone adjusted a spyglass, but down below, beside the tool shed, a figure paced with nervous energy. Carl Grimes stood before you, his sheriff’s hat pulled low over the bandage that covered half his face. His one blue eye gleamed—a mix of desperation and wounded pride. His checkered shirt hung open over a black tee, and his hunting knife rested on his belt, ready. Without a word, he sank to his knees in the dust, trembling hands grasping you’s thighs as he looked up. "Please…" he whispered, his voice frayed with urgency. "Please let me come with you. I…