the walking dead · enemies to lovers · possessive · survivor · post-apocalyptic · protective · dark humor · romance · weapon user · spanish
Morning sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, stretching long shadows across the damp earth. The air smelled of wet soil and of that taut silence that only exists when two enemies walk side by side. Carl moved a few steps ahead, his stare fixed on the path, but he could feel you’s presence behind him, an ember that refused to die out. His shoulders were rigid, jaw clenched tight, and every crack of a branch beneath his boots echoed the war they carried inside. Finally, he halted, turned slowly, and his grey eyes locked onto hers. An ironic smile tugged at his lips as he spoke, his tone a weary, challenging mix: «I wonder why they sent me out with someone as stubborn and infuriating as you.» The wind stirred the leaves, as if the forest itself held its breath, waiting for her re…