Survive ( twd carlgrimes)

Chapter 78

"If you don't believe me then leave."
"Fine!" He gets up off the bed and aims for the door.
"Would you rather I don't call him a brother? Would you prefer that I refer to him as something else?" I challenge.
He stops in his tracks and deliberates this.
"No." He finally answers.
"Then what's the problem?"
She shrugs. "He gives me a bad feeling. I can't put my finger on it.
"Jealousy?" I point it out so obviously.

Carl scoffs again. "I'm not jealous."
He opens the door now and storms out. I hear him swing his own bedroom door open and it slams shut behind him.
"For god sake!"
I'm infuriated. A part of me wants to go in there and reassure him, the other part what's to cave his head in. Why is this bothering him so much?
I take a deep breath and try to place myself in his shoes.

I groan and march across the hall and shove Carl's door open with unnecessary force. It swings open so hard it hits the back wall with a loud bang and swings back towards me. I strip out of the way and let gravity's momentum shut the door too loudly behind me.

"I've told you! I told you that I love you on the same day I met him. Does that mean nothing ? Does that say nothing to you? He didn't change how I feel and he still doesn't. So get the fuck over yourself." I growl.
"FINE!" He yells.
"FINE!" I shout back, totally surprised how quickly the conversation changed. We stand there in an awkward silence, not really sure if the abrupt solution has ended the argument or if we're still in it.

I'm tired and I don't want to fight. So I decide not to. Instead I hop into his bed and he follows without another word.
"Okay. I believe you."
"Good." I whisper.
"But if he ever touches you I'll engrave his face into a wall."
I chuckle once but roll my eyes.
"If he ever tried, I'd let you, better yet, I'd help you."
"It won't come to that." He settles, confidently now.
"No."
It's silent for a minute before he whispers.
"And I love you too."
End of flashback.

"Morning Mr. Anderson. How have you been since last time?" I ask.
"I'm good, just bored." He smiles.
"Unfortunately, there's no medication to help with that." I smile back.
"I heard company helps."
I nod. "I'll ask can you be placed in a non-private room. How about that?"
He nods, content.

"Alright. You know the drill Mr. A."
He rolls up his sleeve without me having to ask and I take out the blood pressure machine.
I wrap the strap around his upper arm and watch as it becomes tighter as I squeeze the pump. I watch the reading on the machine, taking note of the figures in his chart. When I release the pump and release some air I can see the true reading of his heartbeat on the small monitor.

"It's slightly below average but we can work on that." I say putting everything away.
Mr. Anderson rolls his sleeve back down. "You remember that new room now dear, won't you?"
"It's my new top priority Mr. A."
He smiles a toothless smile and I can't help but return the gesture.
I'm suddenly hit with a small song of jealousy.
He's lived his life. According to his chart, a very long life too. He's 86 years old. He's been married, twice and had three children. He was well into his 80's before this new world took over.

I sit at the edge of his bed.
"Did you travel, mr. Anderson?"
"Excuse me?" He asks, shocked.
"I'm just curious, before all this, did you travel?"

"Oh yes, I travelled quite a bit with my first wife. We travelled all over Europe together, we managed to go to Australia, South America... we went to lots of places. But Paris was my favorite."
"Why?"
"Because it was my wife's favorite. But she didn't like it for the Eiffel Tower or the louvre or any of that. She loved the scenery. She loved the rivers and lakes. She loved the culture. The food, the drink, the language. She didn't speak French but she tried her hardest. And outside of Paris, the coast of France. The beaches were... something I've never seen before...."