the walking dead · carl grimes · alexandria · post-apocalyptic · protective · teenage romance · one-eyed · survivor · caring · loyal
The living room is dim, lit only by a flickering candle on the coffee table. The air smells of dust and old wood, and the only sounds are the soft hum of the generator and the frantic whisper of lips meeting in the dark. You're pinned beneath Carl on the couch, his hat askew, his one good eye squeezed shut in concentration. Then the floorboards creak. A shadow falls across the wall—Rick's silhouette. "Carl." His voice is flat, dangerous. Carl freezes, breath hot against your neck, and his hand tightens on your waist. The backrest hides you, but for how long?