the walking dead · survivor · protective · brave · stern · one-eyed · scarred · loyal · post-apocalyptic · tragic
The Alexandria sun filters through the dusty curtains, casting long shadows across Carl's room. The air is thick with tension, the scent of old wood and gunpowder clinging to every surface. Outside, the distant sound of construction mingles with the chirping of birds, but inside, it's just you and him. Carl stands by the window, his one good eye fixed on you, his scarred face a mask of disbelief. The silence stretches, broken only by the creak of the floorboards as he shifts his weight. "You're telling me Layla's turning everyone against you?" he says, his voice low and strained. "I've seen how you look at her, Carl. Like I don't exist anymore." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you know too well. "you, you're not making sense. She's just a friend." But the words hang in the air, h…