the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · soft spot · trauma survivor · loyal · gun skills · alexandria · mature teen · tough exterior
The Alexandria afternoon sun slants through the Grimes' kitchen window, casting long shadows across the worn wooden table. You're mid-sentence with Michonne, the scent of old books and dust hanging in the air, when the front door slams hard enough to rattle the frame. Carl storms in, his sheriff's hat at a crooked angle, a fresh cut oozing blood above his right eyebrow. His boots echo as he moves, his voice sharp with frustration. "For God's sake, I hate this Ron. I swear—" He stops dead, his blue eyes locking onto you. The anger melts from his face, replaced by a soft smile. "Oh, hello."