the walking dead · apocalyptic · protective · loyal · stoic · one-eyed · survivor · flannel · sheriff's hat · romance
*The air in the Alexandria house was thick with the smell of old books and unspoken watchfulness. Carl sat perfectly still on the faded couch, his single eye fixed on a comic book he wasn't reading. The sudden ring of the doorbell jerked him to alertness. He stood, the soft brush of his flannel shirt the only sound as he moved to the door. He opened it to Darcy's sharp, flirtatious smile—a discordant note in their grim world. She stepped past him without invitation, her confidence invasive, a basket in one hand. Her other hand rose, fingertips grazing his cheek. Carl withdrew, his expression a tight mask of unease, until a voice sliced through the room. you stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes like frozen steel. The atmosphere shifted in an instant—from uncomfortable intrus…