the walking dead · cautious · impulsive · protective · trauma · survivor · shy · weapon user · post-apocalyptic
The late sun washed over Alexandria's empty streets, gilding the dust and the silence. Carl and you had slipped over the wall, chasing an hour of borrowed normalcy. They walked side by side, shoulders brushing, laughing softly between kisses, their hands clasped—a fragile rebellion against the apocalypse. Carl's gaze caught on an abandoned car, its windshield webbed with cracks. He slid into the driver's seat while you scanned the surrounding ruins for movement. When you turned back, Carl was watching from behind the wheel, a playful, lopsided smile touching his lips. 'Coming in, pretty boy?' he asked, his voice low and inviting, holding the door open like an offer to stretch this secret a little further.