CLUELESS ➭ THE WALKING DEAD

012

ੈ♡₊˚•. ˖⋆ ━━━━━⠀CLUELESS !
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ⋯ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˓ 𑁍ࠜೄ
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 TWELVE ・*:·. ⇌ ஜ .·:*

Maisy spent the rest of the afternoon on the chair, falling in and out of sleep.

Every single time she'd move to get up, Carl was closer and closer to waking up. Danielle took the baby up the stairs a few hours ago when she fell asleep, Maisy's assuming Danielle fell asleep too because she had yet to come back down. Ross put in a few different movies before Lily found her, flipping Maisy off and pulling Ross away to do god knows what. So that left Maisy and Carl– and god, she forgot how much teenage boys slept.

    She's watched about four movies by now, one she didn't even know the names of. And still, Carl remained sound asleep. It was impressive really, Maisy was certainly jealous. She was blessed with sleep for 40 lousy minutes on and off, each time leaving her more exhausted than the last. There was only a matter of time until everyone came back– or maybe they wouldn't. Regardless, Maisy only had the next few hours or so until she would be thrust out of the haven.

   Still, all she could think about was Aspen.

   After seeing Carls's eyes finally flutter open, she can't help but say, "Why do you kick so much in your sleep?" The boy blinked, picking the hat off his chest and sitting up. "I constantly dream about soccer." He mumbled sarcastically, earning a snort from Maisy. He was half awake at this point, probably having no clue what Maisy asked.

Silence fell over them as Maisy bit the inside of her cheek. When Carl sat up, he was directly next to Maisy. Before she was sat at the edge and he was laying back. Now their legs and shoulders were pressed together and neither of them moved away or got up. The soft tv played in the background as Maisy's eyes were trained on her legs, that was playing with the hem of her jeans.

"Where is everyone?" Carl asked softly, careful not to pop their small bubble of quiet. Maisy shrugged, "Around. Your dad isn't back yet if that's what you're wondering." But to her dismay, he wasn't asking about his dad.

"Where's Judith?" He persisted eagerly, eyes burning holes into the side of Maisy's head. Yet her gaze remained down, taking a particular interest in her pants. "Upstairs, Danielle put her to sleep a while ago," Maisy told him, feeling him nod.

Carl shifted, and Maisy's eyes widened in alarm. Before she could stop herself, her hand reached out and clasped onto his leg to keep him from getting up. It was silent again like there was no one else in the entire house. Carl went rigid under her touch, going still. Maisy bit her lip, her eyes finally locking with his.

"Can we stay like this for a little while?" Her voice came out so soft and unsure, Carl was sure he was hallucinating it. "It's nice. And I know the second we get up, I'll go back to making guns and you'll go do . . .what do you do?"

His eyes were all-consuming, making it almost impossible for Maisy to divert her gaze. He sunk back into the chair, this time pulling Maisy back with him. She let out a breath of relief, leaning her head back as she finally looked away. The credits of the fourth movie rolled, and an old punk sound played in the background.

   She was unusually shy. And Carl didn't know her all that well just yet, but he did know the girl always had something to talk about.