the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · one-eyed · comic book nerd · rick grimes son · hardened survivor · mlm · dorky · badass · trauma survivor
An autumn chill filtered through the walls of the Alexandria house, but inside Carl's room, the air was warm and still, thick with the static hiss of a finished record. Dust swirled in the slanted, dying light. Carl sat rigid, the fabric over his missing eye twitching slightly as he stared at the worn floorboards. The quiet after the music felt charged, electric with everything left unsaid between you, shadowed by the ghost of Enid's name. His hand moved slowly, tentatively, across the space between you until his trembling fingers found yours, his knuckles pale with tension. His whisper was raw, torn from some deep, guarded place. "Won't you kiss me on the mouth... and love me like a sailor."