Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
I yawned as I sat up propped up against my arms. I had slept.
Ever since Eli died, a good nights sleep something of a myth. Something i could only dream of. I smiled to myself knowing I had slept so well.
I got out of bed and looked down at the ground. There was a note placed on the top of another pile of clean clothes.
'These are for you, I'll be on a sweep today I want to talk later-Rick'
A subtle smile lingered on my face for a moment before I picked up the clothes and headed to the bathroom.
==================================
I wandered aimlessly into the kitchen to see Carl sat at the table shovelling large mouthfuls of cereal into his mouth with his right hand, a comic in his left. He looked up at me before slightly rolling his eyes and getting back to his comic - not paying me any notice.
There was a bowl on the counter by the fridge so I took the cereal bowl of the table where Carl was occupied and poured myself a bowl. I opened the fridge door to find a glass bottle filled with milk. I raised my eyebrows - impressed.
'Hey don't use up all the milk.' Carl had turned to look at me - defensive over what would now be viewed as a 'delicacy'.
I nodded before pouring a small amount of milk into my bowl, putting everything away and then settling down in the seat opposite of the boy with the cowboy hat.
I ate slowly as to not make myself nauseous and to savour the food. I enjoyed every single bite. I hadn't had cereal since before the apocalypse.
'You eat really slowly.' Said Carl.
'I guess so...yeah.' I responded, with a mouth half full of food.
Carl once again paid me no more attention than he felt fit, getting back to his comic and leaving me eating my food in an uncomfortable yet peaceful form of quiet.
Quiet was a noise that was rare these days.
I glanced at Carl. Taking him in so he wasn't just the boy in the cowboy hat or Rick's son.
He had a kind face, his skin looked soft and smooth. Yet, I focused in on his eyes - They were an icy, clear and memorable blue. There was feeling in his eyes, feelings fathoms deep illuminated by the morning sunlight that crept in through the windows like a secret hoping to be kept safe. I wondered who he was, what he had been through. I almost wanted to ask. But I knew better than to ask someone else a question I wouldn't be able to answer myself.
