"Why do you care?"
"Because you let me. No one's let me care for them before...but you did."
"I've never allowed anyone to care for me before you showed up."
"Well..."
"I suppose we're in similar predicaments."
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
A Carl Grimes/Walking Dead F...
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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ
The orange hue of the sunset passes beyond the trees as time flies, dark skies blanketing over the earth. Candlelight illuminates the church as the clinking of utensils against dishes and cans echoes in the wooden hall.
Thankfully, the supplies found during this afternoons run to the food bank had provided us with an excellent feast, most of us calling for celebration of escaping Terminus and for Maia reaching us.
I haven't stopped smiling since I've seen her.
After the majority of the prison was reduced to rubble, I had assumed she was dead. Once most of the Governors group was found dead, I rushed over to the cell block she had been trying to rescue, only to find a large pile of fallen concrete and large stains of blood.
So much of me was in disbelief when she had arrived and a lot of me remains in disbelief, even as I watch her pick pineapple from a metallic can under the soft glow of a gentle flame.
"You hurt your eyes, Grimes?" She says to me with her mouth slightly full of fruit. A smile spreads across her face as she realizes my staring at her.
"W-What?" I stutter and try to regain my thoughts. "No, sorry." My eyes wander to her head, which has my hat still placed upon it, although her hair beneath is significantly shorter. "It's just your hair; it's all gone." I slowly raise my hand and gently brush aside one of the strands from in front of her face.
It's barely enough for me to notice, but her smile falters for a moment at the mention of her hair.
"Really? I haven't noticed." She smiles again with a sarcastic tone. "What, does it look bad or something?" One of her hands raises up and tugs softly at the hair strands.
"N-No!" I respond defensively. "It looks good," I pause. "Really good."
I don't fail to notice the way her cheeks blush pink and her hand falters slightly around the can she's holding. It wasn't a lie either, her haircut suits her in a way I would never anticipate.
"I think that's the first compliment you've ever given me, well done." She laughs and I smile, flicking the brim of my hat on her head. "You should have it back," Slowly, her hand removes my Sheriffs Hat and places it onto my own head. "I don't want to get lice, and the deputy life doesn't suit me."
A soft smile spreads across my face as I readjust the hat.
We fall into a comforting conversation, similar to everyone around us. She discusses how she left the prison and where she wandered after that and I do the same. Eventually, the chatter is interrupted by Abrahams booming voice.
"I'd like to propose a toast," He announces to the group, a decorative glass filled with vermillion communion wine in his hands. "I look around this room and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title." Judith fusses quietly in the arms of my dad as he speaks. "To the survivors!" He raises his glass with a satisfied smile.
