the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · missing eye · sarcastic · skilled marksman · quiet · protective · flannel · survivor · kind
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy window, casting long shadows across the worn couch. Dust motes dance in the golden light, settling on Carl's sleeping form—his flannel shirt rumpled, his one visible eye closed. He's been avoiding you for days, choosing naps over conversations, the couch over their shared bed. The silence between them feels heavier than any walker groan. When will this end?