Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

22 ➸ thunder

{Goner by Twenty One Pilots}

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The sound of thunder shook the farm into an immense, abrupt breakage of silence. All I could hear was the storm outside in the night, and the mumbles and breaths of disbelief coming between Carl and the stranger with the knitted angel wings.

"Daryl Dixon," Carl laughed below his husky breath.

The man tried to blink down on a salty tear, though it slipped and dribbled down his grimy face. Daryl Dixon surprised me with undeniable tears running down and hitting his jean jacket, building a collection of longing pools. I did not know this man, but he meant a great deal to my boyfriend, and I had never seen Carl Grimes any happier.

Carl then took off forward; almost faster than I had never seen him go before. The travel was at such a great speed that he tackled Daryl Dixon into a longing hug, tightly squeezing his lost family member into the hug he never thought he would feel again.

Daryl's muscular arms held my boyfriend into a masculine but yet loving embrace; his eyes glossed up as much as he tried to hide it.

[IS ANYONE ELSE PICTURING THIS EXACTLY LIKE THE CAROL AND DARYL HUG FROM THE SEASON 5 PREMIER HOLY SHIT. I CAN'T.

COMMENT HERE & FANGIRL.]

"You're not crying, are you, Dixon?" Carl accused into his shoulder, his eyes squinted in soft laughter.

"Don't you know me, Kid? It's just dusty in here," Daryl replied.

Carl's laughter was so contagiously real. His deep and husky voice didn't phase the child-like happiness that was glinting his arctic eyes. Never had I seen a set of teeth spread so immensely. Never had I heard such an endearment of a laugh come between two, raw lips. Never had I seen blue eyes vibrant themselves into an artistic masterpiece, and never had I felt the thunder tremble my ebony bones as I witnessed the reunion of my lovely's long-lost family.

Never had I seen such hope glisten in Carl Grimes' eyes.

It was far after midnight; the darkness had stricken this Farm almost as foully as it did my soul. Ron was standing by the kitchen counters, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed. He was looking back into my eyes, purely reading the question; "do you trust this redneck?"

I tore my gaze from Ron and back to the embrace. Carl and Daryl didn't want to let go, and they did not. Carl's chin was lodged into Daryl's broad shoulder, while Daryl sniffled away his weak tears and couldn't help but hold the boy he lost but found.

I turned back to Ron with a smile on my face, and my eyes read;

I trust him.

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"Daryl, do you want a water?"

"Fucking hell, I do."

Carl laughed from behind me, and I heard him rummage through the refrigerator before retrieving a water for his family member graciously.

Carl's footsteps were heavy like thunder, but I trusted the sole of his shoes more than the gloomy clouds.

The kitchen chair creaked as Carl lowered himself onto it, sliding the bottled water across the tabletop and towards the man in front of me. I watched as Daryl tore off the cap, his dry lips wrapping around the plastic as he began to let the cold water glide down his throat. He emitted loud chugging noises as he finished off the bottle in seconds. Daryl crunched up the plastic water in his hands and tossed it back onto the kitchen table, appearing refreshed afterwards.