Faith In The Wild •CARL GRIMES•

Learning To Trust The Silence

Carl laughed softly under his voice, cautious not to blow the fire out.

He looked down to our hands, his outlining mine as I cupped the flame.

--"Careful, your bandage.."-- He whispered, there was no need to speak any louder, we weren't that far away from each other.

He carefully put his hands on the inner side of where our fingers overlapped, keeping his closer to the fire than my bandage.

I always admired that about Carl, he was always so selfless and so genuine..

I smiled lovingly, sticking stray pieces of hay into the fire. We built it on an old feeding pan for the horses, so it wouldn't burn the whole barn down if the floor caught fire.
It was the pan I used earlier.

--"Smart thinking with the pan..."-- He said awkwardly.

"Are you struggling to start a conversation with me, Carl?" I asked bluntly with my eyebrows raised, looking up from the fire, our eyes locked and my playful smile never fading.

--"No? You're struggling to keep a conversation with me."-- He replied.

"Mm... Mhm, sure." I mumbled.
"No, actually, I'm not. I'm just.. thinking."

--"Thinking? About what?"-- He asked, seeming overly interested.

"About.. whatever I want to, honestly. As long as my thoughts are pure, honest, and don't go against the Bible in anyway, then I'm not doing anything wrong... Am I?" I shrugged.

--"No, I guess not. I just assumed since we haven't seen each other since middle school, that.."--

"That what?" I edged on, giving my full attention to him. Carl never really was much of a nervous type, he was more confident than anything.

--"That, y'know, maybe we'd have more to talk about, is all."-- His lips formed a frown as he turned to add more hay to the hungry flames.

Is he actually sad that I'm not keeping the conversation?

"Well, maybe, I'm just enjoying the moment? I feel kind of... Uptight. I'm sorry.." I whispered, moving my hands from cupping the fire, and sitting back with my legs tucked into my hoodie because I was cold.

My knees pressed to my chest and I pulled my hoodie over my body, as if swaddling myself, and despite the growing tension between us,  Carl broke the awkward barrier between us by laughing quietly to himself.

"Is something funny?" I asked, not seeming amused.

--"You still do that?"--

"Yes, I do. What's wrong with it?"

--"Nothing, nothing. It's just..."-- He said aloud. "Cute." He finished, under his breath, making it so only I could hear.

"Cute?" I laughed in response. "Okay."

Our little moment of... Whatever that is, was drown out by his baby sister screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Hey there, little-" The man they called 'Daryl' started to say, taking the baby from Carl's father.

--"Daryl."-- Carl cut him off, his tone firm.

Daryl turned his attention to us, and raised his facial expression in question.

--"Not in front of Bella, she.. uh, finds it disrespectful."-- Carl said, his eyes flashing between me, Daryl, and his baby sister who stopped crying the moment she was in Daryl's arms.

"Little... Butt kicker, is that better?" Daryl said, trying to be respectful, yet still seemed annoyed.

"Finds what disrespectful?" I asked in confusion.