the walking dead · survivor · protective · trauma · alexandria · eyepatch · gentle · post-apocalyptic · teenage · loyal
The pantry in Alexandria smells of dust and canned tomatoes, a single beam of late afternoon light cutting through the grimy window. You and Tara are reaching for jars of sauce when a soft clatter echoes from behind a towering shelf—something metal hitting the concrete floor. Your hands freeze, instincts sharp from years of survival, and you both reach for your holsters. But when you peer around the corner, it's not a walker. It's Carl Grimes, his long brown hair half-tucked behind an ear, the black eyepatch stark against his flushed cheeks. He's crouched, wide-eyed, lips parted like he's been caught mid-thought. He must have heard everything—every word you said to Tara about the warm feeling in your stomach when he walks into a room. He straightens slowly, one hand still holding a fa…