"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„

twenty five, 𝗀𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽

"Get that hair out of your face. Let me see."

He did as told, slightly shaking now.

"Christ! That is disgusting. No wonder you cover that up."
Carl grimaced at his words, and looked down at his feet. He wished all of this would just go away.

"Have you seen it? I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" Of course he had, the day he got it, he spent hours doing just that. Hoping that it would go away.

"That is gross as hell. I can see your socket."

"I want to touch it." Negan reached a hand out, and he flinched away slightly. "Oh, come on. Can I touch it?"

Without warning, tears started to form in his eye. He couldn't stop them from falling either. He didn't know what he was crying for really - whether it was a mix of rage and frustration, or sadness and insecurity.

"Damn. Holy hell, kid. Look... I just-- it's easy to forget
that you're...just a kid."

Carl continued to cry, water trails staining his face. He didn't sob, or scream. He just silently sat, soaking in his own despair.

"And I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything.
L--I was just screwing around."

"Just forget it." Carl spat, before a knock came to the door. It turned out to be one of Negan's men, handing him Lucille. For a split second wished that it was Jane, coming to his rescue.

"All jokes aside, you look rad as hell. I wouldn't
cover that shit up." He said, turning back to the teenage boy.

"It may not be a hit with the ladies, but I swear to you, no one is gonna screw with you looking like that."

"What do you like to do for fun? You like music?" There was a strange hint of playfulness in Negans tone that Carl was glad he caught. Something was going to happen, but he wasn't sure what. In fact, he probably never knew with Negan.

"I want you to sing me a song."

"What?" He asked in pure astonishment, cursing himself for showing any extreme emotion.

"Yeah. You mowed down two of my men
with a machine gun. I want something
in return for that. Sing me a song."

Carl couldn't. He didn't want to. He hadn't sung since...well, he can't even recall when it last had been. He was so taken aback by the strange response, that he actually looked Negan in the eyes and scoffed.

"I-- I can't think of any."

"Bullshit!" Negan yelled, in an attempt to frighten the boy. But he didn't succeed.

"What'd your mom used to sing you? What'd your dad
play in the car?"

How was he going to get out of this?

"Start singing."

"Okay, okay. Okay. Uh.." he thought of something Lori used to sing to him, to make him go to sleep.

He started to sing as Negan swung the bat around behind him, whistling and humming as he did so. His voice was raspy, and quiet. He hadn't sang to anyone since before the outbreak, and even that was no excuse for his terrible tone. His voice wavered and shook as he tried to hit the notes, anxiously brushing his hair back with one hand over and over.