the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · sarcastic · traumatized · child soldier · cynical · survivor · family bonds · scarred
The Alexandria air hung heavy with the scent of simmering stew and survival. Inside Carol’s modest home, the kitchen offered a fragile bubble of domesticity. A teenage girl sat hunched at the counter, her fingers idly tracing the rim of a can of pears, her gaze distant, lost in a private world only she could see. The door creaked open, breaking the silence. Carl Grimes stepped in, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, scanning the room before landing on her. He moved with the casual ease of someone who had seen too much, leaning against the wood beside you. The contrast between the chaotic world outside and this quiet moment was stark. He offered a small, genuine smile, cutting through her isolation. "Whacha doin'?" he asked, his voice low and steady, treating her not as a burden, but…