Hey this is my 20th part!!! I hope you're all enjoying these so far. I told myself if I got one part of my homework done I could start to write the next part to this. So yeah, I got one part of my homework done. Also I feel like shit today and I don't know why. Like I have to distract myself with stuff so I don't feel like 100% shitty, only 50% shitty.
Word Count (including bold text): 1630
After a couple of hours of throwing I managed to hit the center several times, Patrick hitting the center more times than me. The scar on my face stung like a bitch but I just ignored it, and the excess dried blood caked on my cheek.
Carl dismissed the group (reminding us all to come back at the same time on Thursday) after he told us common mistakes among all of us that we should try to work on between now and Thursday.
"Where are we supposed to practice, in our cell?" I ask Patrick.
"Maybe he's just talking technique, not actually throwing."
"Y/N!" Carl yells to me. I turn around to face him. "You owe me time."
"What? I thought you were just threatening me! I'm not staying here for five hours," I insist.
"It was a threat- at first. But then I told you a couple hours ago you actually owe it to me, remember?" Carl says.
I roll my eyes and groan. "You can't actually make me stay, Grimes. I mean, what are they gonna do, fire me?"
"No, but I can tell my dad you aren't taking these sessions seriously and he can stick you with Merle."
"Merle is an instructor too? What the fuck has he done for us?" I shout.
"He's good at combat. He knows his stuff from his time with the Governor. He also isn't afraid to tell someone about their dumb ass mistakes and how they're a piece of shit to the group, so be thankful you're with me," Carl explains.
I don't say anything because I know he's right, I just don't want to admit it. I also don't want to be in Merle's group.
"Five hours," Carl says again.
"Can Pat stay at least?" I question, already knowing the answer.
"Patrick didn't give me attitude. Patrick listened and cooperated. Patrick's not staying for five hours for good behavior."
I scoff at his remark. "Attitude? 'Good behavior'? Are you serious right now, Grimes? It's the apocalypse, not gym class!"
"Patrick, go. Y/N, stay," Carl demands, ignoring my sarcastic comments.
Patrick leaves without another word, and I let him go without argument knowing I would never win. "So what am I gonna do for five hours? I'm 'owing' you time by being in your presence? Is that how this works?"
"The sarcasm isn't helping your situation, love," Carl says.
I cringe when he calls me 'love' but I don't say anything.
"But I haven't decided yet."
"Oh, so you're not even doing this for your benefit, you're doing this to piss me off?" I question.
Carl shrugs and smirks. "Pretty much."
"Fucking asshole," I mumble under my breath.
"What was that? You know I have more free time after the second session if you want to keep running that pretty little mouth," Carl warns.
"Okay." I force myself to calm down ignoring the 'pretty little mouth' comment. "Have you decided yet?"
"Can you go get me a bottle of water?" Carl asks.
"Oh so I'm your servant now?" I say. "Fine," I add after I see the look on Carl's face.
I stroll to the main area to grab a water bottle looking for Patrick on my way through. I don't see him so I assume he's either in his cell or working somewhere around the prison. I walk as slow as I can back to the courtyard not looking forward to the next four and a half-ish hours. I step outside into the bright sunlight and squint. The water is grabbed from my hand by Carl and he walks away taking large gulps.
"You're welcome?" I say. He doesn't say anything. "Honestly, Carl, if you hate me so much why do you want to spend five hours with me?"
Carl stops and turns around. "I don't hate you," he says with his brows furrowed. "You clearly hate me, though. It hurts, and I don't know why you do, but," he shrugs, "it's fine."
At this point I realize that I don't actually hate Carl... I just never thought highly of him because I thought he hated me for some reason. "I- Carl I don't hate you. I always thought you hated me from the way you treat me. And the fact you always glare at me when I walk by or something."
Carl chuckles. "It's not called glaring, Y/N." He sits down on a rock and I make my way in his direction, sitting on a rock as well. "It's called looking. Or admiring."
My face reflects confusion. Carl laughs again.
"Here, let's do more knife training."
"But Carl I already hit the center like a million times today!" I argue.
"You're on my time, Y/N. My time. Get your knives ready," Carl says standing up and making his way to the targets. I follow his lead. "Do you remember how to position yourself?" Carl asks as we reach the targets.
I nod. I throw the first knife and it hits the center. The second knife lands right next the first one, also in the center. I throw the third and final knife and it lands just above the first two, directly in the center. I don't move yet, feeling like a bad ass. Carl doesn't say anything to congratulate me or tell me I'm done. Instead he says:
"Keep going."
I spin around to face him with disbelief written on my face. "What?! Carl I just got all three in the center what do you mean 'keep going'? Clearly I know what I'm doing!"
Carl stands in silence staring at me.
"Well if you want me to 'keep going' then you go get my knives for me," I demand.
Carl sighs. "Guess I'll have to tell Merle he's getting-" Carl stops short when he sees me stomp over to collect my knives.
As soon as I yank out the last knife from the target I hear a whoosh sound next to my ear as a knife sticks into the target right next to my face. I turn my head to see Carl with a smug look on his face. "What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?"
"If I was trying to kill you you would already be dead. Can you get my knife?"
I rip out his knife and toss it next to him on the ground.
"Thanks, love."
I don't say anything as I trek back to the front but I can feel my anger boiling inside of me.
"What's wrong?" Carl asks grabbing my wrist gently. I don't look at him. "Y/N, I honestly wasn't trying to hurt you. I knew what I was doing. I'm sorry." He grabs my waist with both of his hands. "Look at me."
I obey and look him in the eyes with tears of anger and frustration in mine.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Carl says as he wraps me in a hug. I cry into his shoulder without even thinking. I'm just done with the knives, done with the training, done with everything. "Shhh," Carl whispers in my hair. I tuck my hands up to my chest and he rubs his hand up and down my back. "I didn't mean to do this to you. I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry."
"It's not you, Carl," I manage to get out. "It's just everything. I'm just scared and stressed and frustrated and I guess I just took it out on you and now it's all coming out. Carl I'm just weak! I try to be strong and brave but I'm not! And now you're never going to see me the same way."
Carl chuckles lightly. "Y/N I already knew it was an act. I knew you were stressed and you were taking it out on me. I knew you were scared even when you pretended you weren't. But what I also know is you are actually strong and brave as hell. And that's how I've always seen you, and that's what I will continue to see you as."
I giggle into his neck.
"Along with beautiful, of course."
"Really?" I whisper.
"Mhm," he answers. "Really."
"Why is this all coming out now?" I question, pulling away from him.
"Wait, let me hold you," he whines, pulling me back into his chest. "It's coming out now because we're alone for the first time... which is why you owed me five hours."
I laugh again. "I thought it was because you wanted to piss me off," I mention, referring to earlier.
"Well, yes, that too," Carl laughs. "Maybe we can... would you like to go on a date?"
"Can I look at you, now?" I ask. He gently and hesitantly lets go of me and his expression looks nervous. "Where were you thinking?"
Carl's face lights up after I ask. "It is the apocalypse after all. That being said, I have no fucking clue."
We both laugh and I say, "Yes of course I will go on a date with you."
"Good, I was scared that my lack of planning would influence your answer."
"I think your lack of planning is rather cute," I say, blushing.
"Well in that case I did it on purpose. Now come here so I can hold you again," Carl demands with his arms outstretched and a pout on his face. "We'll take care of that scar after I'm done hugging you, okay?"
You already know that I'm gonna say I want a Carl.