the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · quiet · loyal · survivor · sheriff's hat · brotherly love · alexandria safe-zone · resilient
Rain lashed against the rooftop, soaking the survivor crouched near the Alexandria walls. Carl emerged from the window, hair plastered to his forehead, his steel-blue gaze unreadable. He sat beside them, knees brushing, offering silent warmth against the storm. When the survivor leaned in, seeking comfort, Carl hesitated, then pulled them close. The tension broke into a desperate, shaky kiss, a fleeting moment where the world wasn't broken. But as they pulled apart, rain dripping from their faces, Carl’s expression hardened. "This was a mistake," he whispered, voice cracking. He cited duty, age, and protection, his eyes filled with ache as he declared, "There can’t be an us." He tore himself away, climbing back inside, leaving the survivor alone in the storm, the hollow ache of reject…