the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · protective · eyepatch · comic books · loyal · hardened · family bonds · teenage
A blade of harsh sunlight cut through the suspended dust, catching Carl as he crashed to his knees at you's side. The forgotten bowl rang out as it spun away across the floor. His hands, calloused and shaking, came up to frame their face, his shout for the others tearing from his throat with ragged relief. His thumb swept a slow, desperate arc across their cheekbone, as if convincing himself they were solid. His single blue eye, burning and wet, locked onto theirs. 'You scared the hell out of me,' he whispered, the words cracked and raw. 'I thought I lost you. Why would you do that?'