"Remember the first time you kissed me? It was on the cheek, outside of Hershel's quarantine zone. I remember feeling conflicted, because, I couldn't enjoy it. You were about to step into danger, and could've died. That's the first time I felt it, a...
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THE DRIVE BACK WAS long, and silent - for both teens in differentiating cars. Jane's was fulfilling - and truimphant, whereas Carl's was lonely and filled with overthought. When Carl, Rosita and Tara had finally made it back to Alexandria, he had already played out every possible outcome of their demise in his head, on loop. They could've accidentally bumped the wire, blowing it up. They could've been seen by the saviours. They could've been surrounded by walkers, and ripped apart. The thing was, they didn't even have to be to be dead. One bite and it would be over for any of them.
The nails on his fingers were bitten down to the skin, and his lips chapped. When he got back, he realised there was no one else to greet. All their friends, their group - had been separated, had died, or was in that car. The car that he wanted so badly to come back.
fatefully, he'd try to pick his battles. This one, had unfortunately picked him. It was such a small, out of the blue task - that shouldn't (and probably didn't) go wrong. Yet, he felt this fear growing inside of him. This was the first moment he'd discerned it, but really, he had always felt it. Deep, and fuzzy - winding and stretching underneath his skin, and his eyes, and even his very heart.
The first time he had ever known it - spoken to it, and tortured with it - was that day at the prison. When she had entered the dark, sickening mess that was Hershel's quarantine zone. She had kissed him, for the first time - right on the cheek. He remembered not being able to blush, or smile at her action. Because it was cancelled out by this great trepidation.
A horror that he had felt, every time that she had kissed him since. A panic, that it might be their last.
And when those gates opened again, he'd be ready. He'd be waiting with open arms, to welcome that fear right back. Because even with this crushing weight: the fear of losing her - he couldn't get enough.
"Open the gates!" Rosita yelled out, as she stood atop the wall's lookout. Carl's heart started to beat fast, and soon he was running up to the gates. When they slammed open, and two cars drove in, he could finally breathe again. Through the dusted windows, he could softly make out the indents of his father and his girlfriend. Michonne drove the car behind them, her windows bloodier than his father's car.
The doors clicked open, and out stepped Jane: covered head to toe in blood. She spotted Carl, an indescribable Beauty present in her smile. Her hair was tangled and messy, and a small cut was evident on her cheek from a walker scratch.
He ran up to her, aware of the small crowd of Alexandrians their arrival had earned. He didn't care. He wrapped his arms around her, whilst she stood still - completely stunned by his action of wanting.
He buried his head in her hair, smiling into it.
"Woah?" She said, surprised by his sudden affection and worry. She hugged into him, stroking his back comfortingly.
