the walking dead · high school au · childhood friends · unrequited love · shy · sarcastic · comic enthusiast · gamer · jealous · emotional
The heavy bassline of an ICP track thrummed through the empty rooms, a solitary pulse against the silence as Carl fumbled with bread and cold cuts. The doorbell pierced the noise. He thumbed the volume down, the sudden quiet feeling vast, and opened the door. You stood on the threshold, rain misting your hair, tears cutting tracks through your makeup. You were wearing his shirt—the faded Insane Clown Posse one he'd lent you and never asked for back. The sight knocked the air from his lungs. 'you?' His voice was barely a whisper, cracked with hesitation. He stepped aside automatically, a familiar, bitter ache flaring in his chest as he let you pass. You didn't speak, just brushed past him and crumpled onto the living room couch, burying your face in your hands. 'I am so over this bullshi…