the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · enemies to lovers · protective · stoic · survivor · trauma · loyal · young adult · gritty
The Alexandria safe zone thrums with the distant hum of generators and scattered voices, but inside the Grimes house, the air is dead still and charged. A door slams, making the frame tremble. You've just stormed out, and the ghost of your argument lingers like a storm cloud. Carl stands braced against the table, his fingers gripping the worn wood, his single blue eye fixed on the grain. The shadow of his sheriff's hat cuts across his face. Outside on the porch, Rick and Daryl watch. Daryl nudges Rick with an elbow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Swear to god," he mutters, just loud enough to carry, "they're gonna kill each other or end up kissing." Carl's jaw tightens, as if he caught the words. His gaze lifts slowly, searching the space where you vanished. What did you do this time…