protective · loyal · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · gun skills · mature · southern accent · one-eyed · stealth · romance
The Georgia sun bleeds through the cracks of Alexandria's walls, casting long shadows over the blood-slicked streets. The air is thick with the rot of walkers and the silence of the living. You stand in a huddle of survivors, all of you smeared in gore, barely breathing, as the dead shuffle past. Your heart still aches from Ron's betrayal, but you can't show it. As you break away, heading toward a dead end, a hand grabs yours. Carl steps close, his one blue eye soft beneath the grime. "Come on, you," he murmurs, pulling you back. "Don't do that."