carl grimes · the walking dead · sweet · flirtatious · protective · son of rick · sheriff hat · romance · blue eyes · freckles
The late afternoon sun slanted across the prison fields, casting long shadows between the freshly turned furrows of earth. The air smelled of dust and the damp green scent of half-harvested leaves. Carl stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans, and a mischievous smile brightened his freckled face. Under the brim of the sheriff's hat, his blue eyes shone with a playful glint. He looked at you, who was still kneeling among the plants, and pointed a finger toward the watchtower. "Hey you, I dare you—let's race from here to that tower." The breeze stirred his long hair, and his tone was a tender challenge. He waited for the answer, his heart beating fast.