(Y/N)'S P.O.V.
Dear Diary,
Why did I not kill myself today?
Because he smiled at me.
Boys-well, particularly Carl-are so infuriating. I mean, no, he didn't technically do anything, but the way he smiles at me is physically painful. The area around his bright, ocean blue eyes crinkles when he flashes his bright, radiant smile. I say it hurts me, but yet his smile is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning. The thought of girls who aren't me recieving that smile makes my stomach sick. It's one of those things you want to keep a secret, but at the same time everyone needs to see it for their life to be complete. I probably sound delusional, but that's just love for you. It'll make you sound crazy.
Diary, what is the definition of love? Isn't it a feeling of affection? If so, hasn't everyone been in love at least once? Let me describe love to you from my eyes. Love is the feeling I get when he smiles at me. Love is the butterflies in my stomach when he brushes past me in a crowded room. Love is wanting nothing more than to be the reason he smiles. Diary, love is just a word until you find someone to give it a definition.
"Hey," Carl says, picking up the basket of washed clothes sitting beside me. In less than a few seconds, he's walking off.
"Hey babe."
Did I really?
Carl turns around slowly, a confused smile on his face.
I really did.
"Babe?"
"Yeah. . . I call everyone babe! You know, like how British people do in movies," I smile, praying my neck isn't getting blotchy.
"I've never heard you call anyone babe," Carl pops out his hip, propping the basket on it.
"It's a new thing."
"Ah, I see," Carl says, starting to walk away. "I'll see you later, babe."
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Yes, I know it's short, but you'll be getting two updates in one day!
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YOU ARE READING
Carl Grimes Imagines
Fanfictionwriting started: October 15, 2016 writing ended: August 12, 2018 editing started: April 21, 2019 editing ended: n/a