Carl Grimes

You weren't proud of how you met Carl. You'd been running for hours, your legs burning and your lungs howling, when you tripped right in front of him. You were older, you were supposed to be the one helping people like him survive in this world, but he'd saved you.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was softer than you expected, with concern clouding her piercing gaze.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath. "Thank you... I thought I was lost."

"Not under my care," he said, extending his hand.

He was young, perhaps too young, but there was something about him: the way he behaved, the way he observed every corner of the forest as if he had been doing it for years.

You ended up going with him to his camp, Alexandria. At first, it was just about survival. You taught him how to navigate old backroads, how to hunt small game, and he taught you how to fight walkers up close, how to keep going even when the world felt too heavy.

But at some point, in Alexandria, everything changed.

Carl looked at you as if you were the only stable thing in his shattered world. He frightened you, not for himself, but for you.

"You're too young," you told him one night. You could only hear the silence of the night; you looked up at the sky and couldn't hold his gaze.

"I'm not a child," he said in a firm, unwavering voice. "Not anymore. You know that."

And you knew it. He'd lost more than most grown men could bear, seen more than anyone his age should have seen. But that didn't make it any easier.

"This world doesn't care about rules," Carl added, stepping closer. His blue eye stared at you, the other hidden beneath the bandage. "And neither do I."

You swallowed, trying to ignore how your heart was betraying you.

“Carl…”

“Don’t run away from me,” she whispered. “That’s all I ask.”

You didn't answer, but you stayed. And in this broken world, staying was the closest thing to love you could ever have.

By @rasmentalism