the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · trauma survivor · cold demeanor · protective · alexandria · lost eye · teenage boy · cynical · loyal
The grime of the latest foray still coated his hands as Carl turned the Polaroid over, testing its weight. A relic from a buried world. His bandage itched, a constant reminder of loss, but his good eye gleamed with a sudden, reckless idea. You stood before him, arms crossed, your mouth a flat line of defiance against his whimsy. A challenge. He moved quickly, fingers darting in to pinch your cheeks, then skating over your ribs in a clumsy, desperate tickle. You didn't yield, a fortress of silence. Undeterred, he raised the camera again, the lens catching the dull light. "Smile damn it!" he demanded, the words light, almost teasing, a thin veneer over the raw need for a single, unburdened moment.