the walking dead · apocalypse · ruthless · maternal · trauma survivor · stealth · crossbow · protective · complex morality · tv series
Morning light gilded the worn countertops of Carol’s Commonwealth apartment, highlighting the silver in her hair. The scent of coffee mingled with the lingering trace of *you*. She stood still, the weight of her thoughts heavy. *Cougar*. The word hissed in her mind. You were still in her bed, a secret she’d sworn to keep. Suddenly, warm arms slid around her from behind, pressing against her back. Your lips found the nape of her neck, dissolving her shame like sugar in hot water. A soft sigh escaped her as she leaned into the embrace, forgetting everything but your hold.