𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 wasn't expecting to find a prison when she was wandering through the woods, and she definitely did not expect to find a family inside.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 at the prison.
In short, Patrick died from an illness and infected many others, who infected many others and the list goes on.
Most of them were people that Priscilla had never met, but one of them was Glenn.
And Glenn saved his life.
So, as the girl whose life he sort of saved, she thought he had to repay him in a way. She begged to go on the run with Daryl but that didn't go very well:
"Daryl! Please take me on the run with you."
"Nah."
And that was how she was now stuck in a room with the one and only Carl Grimes.
♡
Priscilla's new room was the corner of an isolated space somewhere in the prison. Her and Carl had to share it, but they were as far away from each other as possible.
She brought all of her books and the single star on her ceiling and attempted to put it in the middle of the room.
But, she was too short.
Reluctantly, she turned to look at the teenager that was already smirking at her in amusement.
"A little help?"
His smirk grew, "Hm?" He acted as if she hadn't said a word.
Priscilla sighed loudly. "Please. A little help, please."
With that, he got up from his seat and took the star from her hand and attempted to put the glow-up ornament on the ceiling.
Unfortunately, he was only about an inch taller than her, so he couldn't reach either.
"You little fuck." She murmured under her breath.
"I'm one inch taller and probably older than you." He retorted.
She thought for a second.
"Hold out your hands." She demanded as she dragged her mattress in case something went wrong.
"What?"
"Hands. Hold them out, I'm gonna stand on them."
"O-okay." He stuttered.
Priscilla stood on his hands, carefully balancing and trying not to fall.
Her mind was focused on the star, however Carl's was not.
How was he supposed to be focused? He was literally holding the girl in his hands. She was depending on him to not drop her. He couldn't always keep up with this mean-guy act. All he wanted was a friend, but he didn't know how to show affection all that well.
He could sometimes show it to his Dad or someone else from the original group, but never the girl he was supposed to hate.
Suddenly, she dropped down and her feet hit the ground.
"Thanks."
"It's - uh, yeah. Fine."
She smiled and plopped onto the bed.
"Did your parents ever make you read?"
"I think so. What book?"
Her smile grew even wider when he responded.
He was an asshole to her, so even a few slightly kind words directed to her made her day.
"I can't remember," She pondered. "Maybe Charlotte's web? Is it the name?"
Was that even the book? Maybe it was the one she was reading then. Maybe it was one that her brother had read and ranted to her about and she combined the memories. Maybe she didn't even know how to read back then.
She didn't know.
Some memories of her life before the world went to shit were blurred; she couldn't even remember if she had friends before all of this. Except for her best friend, she could never forget him. Even if he was older than her by a few years, even if he was probably dead.
