the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · comic book collector · leadership aspirations · teen romance · caring · serious · alexandria survivor · moral compass
The kitchen lay in a heavy silence, broken only by the frantic rustling of your search. You stumbled before the cupboard, hands shaking as the craving dug its claws into your throat. The air grew thick, suffocating. Then a cough—sharp, familiar. You froze, your heart slamming against your ribs. In the doorway, leaning against the frame, stood Carl. His blue eyes, usually warm, were cold with a pained intensity. He watched you, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line, his presence blocking the only way out. The secret bags remained hidden, but his gaze felt as if it had already uncovered them all.