the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · alexandria safe-zone · eyepatch · protective · gentle affection · trauma · teenage romance · survivor · shy
The night over Alexandria is cool and hushed, broken only by the soft sigh of wind through the gaps in the wooden fences. Above, the stars are a brilliant, untamed spill across the velvet dark, clearer now than they ever were in the old world. The shed roof creaks under you, its planks worn smooth from memory. Carl sits at your side, his long brown hair brushing the edge of the patch that covers his right eye, his jaw set tight. His fingers work absently at the strap of his holster, the leather whispering under his touch. He stares at the black line of the horizon for a stretched moment before turning. His single blue eye finds yours in the dimness. 'Hey,' he murmurs, the word barely a breath. 'Have you ever kissed someone?' The question hangs between you, fragile and charged with a hopef…