"Falling in love. And say, it's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say 'rising into love.' There is in it the idea of the fall." -Alan Watts
This isn't just some story where the boy and girl fall for each other, and everything is okay. It's a story w...
"We always dream of changing the entire world, but sometimes, changing a single soul is enough, for, inside every human, there is a world."
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***
We pulled into the familiar gates of Alexandria, and all unloaded off of the RV, me being the last person out. I was, of course, immediately greeted by the one and only blue-eyed boy, Carl Grimes.
"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" He asked me, looking me over for any form of damage, causing me to smile at his concern.
"I'm okay; trust me."
***
"Carl, I need to change your bandages!" I yelled at him.
"No! I'll wait until Michonne gets back," he argued.
I still haven't seen what his wound looks like because he won't let me. Michonne was always the one to change his bandages.
"Michonne won't be back for a while; Denise is busy! It'll only take two seconds. I promise," I insisted.
Carl is very self-conscious about his eye. I understand why, but I'm his girlfriend, and I would be the last person in the world to judge him.
"It's ugly to look at. You'll be afraid of me," Carl said.
"We've known each other for nearly ten years. Nothing will change the way I look at you, the way I love you. Please," I begged.
"It's not easy to look at," he said, slightly dropping his head.
"I've seen it. That night I saw it. It's healed now; I know what it looks like. It's okay," I painfully smiled.
He nodded his head, and I stepped forward. I slowly started unravelling the bandages; as soon as I did that, he turned his head. My hands dropped to my sides.
"I'll go find Denise," I said. I felt hurt because he didn't trust me.
"Wait. I'll show you. You won't laugh? Or leave me?" He asked, his hair slightly covering his eye. I nodded and smiled.
"Nothing will change."
I pulled out another bandage and walked up to him, standing close. I softly moved his hair from his face. The wound didn't disgust me—it hurt me. He must've noticed me staring, so he looked away.
"You promised!" He yelled at me.
"It's not gross! That's not it! I'm just so sorry this happened to you! I could've prevented it. It should've been me," I mumbled the last part.
