Stay with me.
Have you ever noticed how girls usually mature faster that boys do? Little girls tend to develop crushes on snot-nosed little boys who still push the girl they like into a mud puddle when she is wearing her favorite dress.
Everyone in your group thought differently about that, though. They could tell weeks before you did that Carl had a crush on you.
Whenever Lori or Beth brought it up, you would blush, yell something about cooties, and scamper away, laughing your butt off at the idea. It wasn't until he saved your life that you saw Carl as anything more than a best friend, someone to make mud cakes with and go to the places Lori told you guys not to.
You were long on the road by now, the farm having already been fled and burnt to a crisp. All winter long, you were oblivious as to what Carl was doing. Lori found it very annoying that you didn't catch on like everyone else did.
At the time you didn't realize what he was doing, so let me spell it out for you. He always insisted on carrying a gun, always made a big show when he was able to kill a walker, always wanted to go on runs with the adults, all for one simple reason: you.
He wanted you to look at him the way he looked at you, he wanted you to notice him, but you were too busy being scared of every moving thing, never seeing anything other than the evil in the world.
Who could really blame you, though? You lost your family, people from your group, the hope of ever finding a cure, and you were surrounded by flesh eating monsters all the time. You always knew you were never safe, despite the adults trying to tell you otherwise.
This was how you felt about the world, that it was a scary, cold, dangerous place, but Carl would change that, for better or worse.
It was cold out, a grey sky day, as you called them, the days when there was little food to go around, little supplies to be scavenged, and little will to go on. You had wrapped the thick leather jacket you were wearing tighter around your shoulders, kicking through the leaf-covered floor of the forest, looking for a good spot to relieve yourself of your full bladder.
Just as you were getting ready to unbuckle your belt, a sudden grasp on the back of your jacket stopped you in your tracks. Your head turned slowly, maybe a little too slowly, because once you saw the lifeless eyes of the walker, it was too late to scream.
Of course though, you didn't let that stop you.
It already had it's jaws set around your arm, ready to bite down, but you screamed and cried out for help as the walker's mouth slowly closed, tearing into the fabric of your jacket. Your vision failed as tears filled up your eyes, but through the hazy blur you could see eight pale fingers, four on each shoulder of the walker.
You blinked away the salty tears in time to see the walker getting yanked backwards in a very harsh manner and sprawl on the ground. Someone shouted to you and you were pushed backward onto your bottom, landing in the dry leaves. Wiping your eyes, you heard the gurgling strains of the walker fade, along with an audible thud.
You looked up to see Carl panting heavily above you. He hastily cleaned and put his knife back into its sheath before crumpling to the ground next to you.
It didn't take long for Carl to realize what had happened, and at that point, he was already trying to strip you of your jacket. The winter wind chilled you to your bones once the thick fabric was gone, revealing your bare skin. Carl held your hand and gently observed the place on your arm where the walker tried to bite you. With a heavy sigh, he had pulled you in for a hug after realizing the only real injury was to your jacket. There you two stayed for nearly twenty minutes, you crying softly and him just letting the collar of his shirt grow damper and damper. He held you close, softly rubbing circles into your back.
Something changed that day, in that very moment, do you remember it? Remember the moment when you dared to look up at him, and he pushed the hair out of your face? When he slowly tucked the wild strands of your hair behind your ear, you noticed something about him that wasn't there before.
It was a small feeling, yeah, but a feeling none the less.
Considering the way your breathing became uneven when you realized just how close you two were, or the way that he gazed at you when you finally detached yourself from him, I don't know how you didn't pick up on it sooner.
There was a certain look in his eyes that you couldn't possibly understand just yet, but it was there all along, it just took you a long while to see it.
From then on, you no longer saw Carl as your patty-cake buddy, but as something entirely different, something entirely new.
Everything changed that day. It scared you to think that you couldn't even use the restroom anymore without having your life threatened, but he made you feel completely safe, even in the dying world. He was the only one who could make you smile, and occasionally, laugh at his stupid jokes.
Some could argue that the first time he made you smile was the turning point for you two, or maybe the first time he touched you, but I know better. I know that when he saved your life on that grey sky day was when you really noticed him for the first time.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/68133725-288-k931895.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The Long Run {c.g.}
Fanfiction"You didn't know this at the time, but you and that boy would go on to run, and you wouldn't stop, not for as long as you both would live." * * * A short story about how you lived when the world had died. THE WALKING DEAD // CARL GRIMES [seasons 1-7]