Carl Grimes Imagines

Imagine 43

(Y/N)'s P.O.V.

I look up at Carl, his boyish grin making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. I look back down at my book, pretending to read. In reality, my thoughts were fixated on Carl.

"What're you reading?" He asks, peeking green beans.

"Oh, just Lord of the Flies."

"Again?"

"Well, there aren't many options," I smile, but it fades when he stands up and walks off. I shake my head, going back to my book.

"Here," He says, holding out a wrapped present.

"What is it?"

"Open it," He says, forcing it in my hands. I look at him for a second, then I slowly start to unwrap it.

"We don't have all day, (Y/N)."

"Who says?" I ask, going even slower. He smiles, rolling his eyes. Curiosity eats at me, so I end up just tearing it open.

"Carl," I breathe out, holding a copy of Wuthering Heights.

"It was supposed to be for your birthday, but I figured you need it now more than what you need it a month from now," He says, going back to stringing beans. I flip open the front cover, running my fingers over the long list of names that've borrowed this from the library. There's so much history behind this copy. This could've been the copy that inspired someone to become a writer. This copy could've helped someone through a rough time. That's why I love library books.

"I know it's not new, but I knew you liked the lovey-dovey stuff. I figure that'd be better than any of the new books."

"Thank you so much." I stand up, walking around the table to give him a hug. He goes in for a kiss, but I don't realize it and accidentally swerve him. I mentally facepalm, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Come on," He says, taking the book from me and setting it on the table. He then grabs my hand, pulling me outside. It's dark, but he doesn't stop. When we're both out of breath, we plop down on the cold, wet grass. It bothers me at first, but I soon forget about it.

"Do you ever think about why the stars exist?" Carl asks, breaking the silence between us. It wasn't an awkward silence, we were just busy letting our heads wander while looking at the sky.

"I used to lay out on my roof and think about that kind of stuff all the time. Now? Not so much."

"Oh," He says, resting his hands behind his head. "I like to think it's because people needed something to guide them when their faith was faltering."

"Like astrology?"

"I guess."

"You know, I used to have a lot of faith in God," He says, still looking up at the sky.

"What changed?" I ask, rolling over to face him. I prop myself up on my elbow for support.

"The world ended." He smiles up at the sky, and then rolls over to mock my position. We stay like that for a couple minutes, trying to read eachother's eyes.

"I'm cold," I say, sitting up.

"I'd give you my coat, but then I'd be cold," He teases, also sitting up

"Jerk," I smile. He smiles back, pulling me inbetween his legs. He wraps his arms around my waist. I'm tense at first, his movements being really unexpected. I eventually ease up, and I start to play with his fingers.

"How do you think people found out about invisable light?"

"Like ultraviolet light?"

"I guess."

"I'd say they did it on accident. Like maybe they spilled something?"

"(Y/N), you're my ultraviolet light. I may not always see you, but I'll know you're always there."

"I don't know if ultraviolet light is always there though," I say, a smile on my face.

At least he tried.

***

Didn't check this for errors, whoops.