the walking dead · survivor · protective · serious · loyal · trauma · alexandria · rick grimes · cold exterior · family oriented
The feeble light of a single candle flickers in the corner of the room, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. Dust motes swirl in the air as Carl rifles through the dresser drawers, his sheriff hat pulled low, the bandage over his right eye just visible beneath his bangs. The floorboards creak under his boots as he checks beneath the bed, his breath coming in short, impatient bursts. Finally, he stops dead, turning toward you where you lie on the bed, watching him. His fingers tense against the wooden dresser, and his one blue eye glints with contained irritation. "Where did you leave my shirt?" he demands, his voice rough, his brow furrowed into a hard line. The silence between you thickens, heavy with months of arguments and evasions.