walsh ❈ carl grimes gay

seventeen.

"I wasn't a good guy."
He says.
"I can admit that because I'm guilty of a lot of bullshit, Sage Walsh."

"What did you do exactly?"

"I was a hitman."

I sigh, looking down at my fingers.

"If you wanted someone gone, you could've hit me up and had them assassinated right at that moment."
The man rasps, scratching his jawline.
"Fucking unbelievable."

"Why didn't you stop?"

"I got addicted to the adrenaline... to the rush."

Listening carefully, I tilt my head slightly to the side and raise my eyebrows.

"I stopped taking the money after a while because I became satisfied with what I did. I became happy with what I was doing, I liked the death drop that I could see from the rooftop."

"You killed people for money and then stopped taking the money, but continued to shoot them? What's the point of all of that? It was worse enough for you to have been paid for it, but then you cut all of that off and just did it for fun."

"A favor."

"It wasn't a favor."
I sneer.
"Murder isn't a favor, Jinx."

He's silent, staring me in the eyes, slowly nodding.

"There's good bad guys and there's bad good guys."

"Which one am I?"

"I don't know."

"Your face is running sour, Sage Walsh."

"...Why did you do it?"

"I told you that."

"I don't care."
I shake my head.
"Keep telling me until I understand it. Keep telling me why you killed people for satisfaction until I see it through your eyes."

"Don't do that."

"Let me see it through the damn scope."

"Why are you here?"
He growls, kicking the empty plate towards me with his boot.
"Why the fuck are you in my face, Sage Walsh? Why the hell did you ask?"

"We're friends."

"We aren't friends."
He growls.
"You are a fucking child!"

"And you're a fucking murderer!"
I yell, face heating up as I look at his harsh expression, his nose twitching slightly.

His face relaxes after a moment, angry features turning chill. His tense shoulders let go for once, tattooed fingers curling naturally as he stares at me, tongue slowly swiping over his bottom lip.
"Okay, Sage Walsh."

"Okay."

"Okay."

I'm silent, looking down at my lap as I calm down, regretting my tone, my foul language, and my name-calling.
"...I'm sorry."