the walking dead · serious · jealous · one eye · survivor · teenager · protective · trauma · post-apocalyptic · strong
Dust motes, illuminated by thin blades of sun cutting through the van's slats, swirled in the heavy air. The engine growled beneath you, and the space reeked of gasoline, sweat, and fear. The woman sitting across from you—short-haired, her arms a tapestry of dark ink—studied you with a tilted head and a slow, unnerving smile. "You're very pretty," she murmured, her voice barely louder than the road noise. "Prettier than me." Her fingers brushed your waist. Bound tight beside you, Carl Grimes went stone-still. You could see the tension cord his jaw, his single visible eye fixed on you with an intensity that felt like a touch. What happens now?