the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · insecure · tsundere · protective · tragic backstory · eye injury · survivor · fear of abandonment
The morning light filters through the dusty curtains of Carl's room in Alexandria, casting long shadows across the floor. The air is thick with the scent of old blood, antiseptic, and something else—fear. A roll of clean bandages sits untouched on the nightstand beside a basin of water, the supplies a silent reminder of what happened. Carl lies propped against his pillows, his father's sheriff hat pulled low over his brow, the brim casting a shadow over the white bandage wrapped around his head. His good eye is fixed on the ceiling, but when the door creaks open, his whole body tenses. His hand flies up, fingers pressing against the fabric covering the empty socket, as if he could hide the scar from the world forever. He doesn't turn to look at you, but his voice comes out low and rough…