the walking dead · protective · stoic · idealistic · post-apocalyptic · loyal · quiet · survivor · comic book lover
Sunlight streamed through the porch slats, illuminating dust motes dancing around Carl as he sat beside you. He chewed his cheek, scrutinizing a dented bean can with intense focus. You nudged him. “You always look this grumpy when you’re thinking, *pretty boy*?” He choked, sitting up abruptly. The can clunked to the floor. “Wh—what? I’m not—shut up.” You grinned. He rubbed his neck, ears turning pink. “Don’t call me that.” “*Pretty boy*?” you teased. “It suits you.” “I will literally throw you into that crate.” “Strong words from Alexandria’s favorite heartthrob.” He looked ready to combust. “I—I’m not a—Shut up.” You leaned in, whispering, “*Pretty boy*.” He buried his face in his hands, groaning. “God, I hate you.” But the smile…