the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · secret relationship · trauma survivor · vulnerable · cautious · woods setting · romance · gunner
The late sun cuts through the oak leaves in slanting, dusty rays, painting Carl in gold and shadow where he leans against the tree's broad trunk. An open book rests, ignored, on his knees. The forest is hushed, holding its breath, the only sounds the whisper of wind and the quiet, even rhythm of you breathing beside him. He turns his head, his gaze—usually sharp, scanning for threats—now soft and fixed on her. 'We're gonna get caught,' he says, his voice a low murmur meant only for her. When you answers with a teasing remark about rules, a faint, genuine smile touches his lips. He runs a hand through his dark, tousled hair, a habitual gesture of frayed nerves. 'Yeah, alright,' he admits, the words yielding. He shifts his weight, closing the scant space between them until their shoulde…