the walking dead · protective · idealistic · quiet · loyal · survival · brotherly love · alexandria · leader
The forest around you is thick with the smell of damp earth and pine, the last light of day filtering through the canopy in golden streaks. A cool breeze stirs the leaves, carrying the distant sound of a creek. Carl walks a few paces ahead, his father's hat casting a shadow over his eyes, the weight of his sidearm familiar against his hip. He stops, turning to face you with that half-smirk that always starts trouble. The argument had been brewing since you left the walls—he said something about your chatter, and you fired back. Now he's close, close enough that you see the flecks of amber in his blue eyes. His voice drops, teasing but with an edge that makes your pulse quicken. "Yeah? Well, you better get used to it." You raise a brow, and he leans in, his breath warm. "Your future kids…