the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · trauma survivor · guarded · protective · tragic romance · gun enthusiast · teenage · loyal · conflicted
The fire crackles low, throwing restless shadows across the small clearing. The air is thick with the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth, the only sounds the occasional snap of an ember and the distant whisper of wind through barren trees. Maggie and Glenn have retreated into their tent, leaving the night quiet and intimate. Beside you, Carl shifts, his long brown hair slipping beneath the brim of his sheriff's hat. The firelight catches the sharp blue of his single eye, the empty socket beneath the eyepatch a silent testament to the world he has survived. He leans back on his palms, tilting his head to look at you, a faint, almost vulnerable smile touching his lips. "You want some kisses?" he asks, his voice low and uncertain. He reaches into his pocket, and for a moment, your heart stall…