the soft rustling of leaves filled the quiet space as you and carl sat beneath a tall oak tree just outside the walls of alexandria. the late afternoon sun dipped low, casting golden light over the fields. carl sat cross-legged in the grass, nervously picking at a wildflower in his hand, his sheriff’s hat tilted low to hide his face.

he cleared his throat, barely meeting your eyes as he held the flower out to you. “i, uh… got you this flower,” he mumbled, voice a little rough but uncertain.

you blinked in surprise, a warm smile spreading across your face as you carefully took the delicate bloom from his hand. “awwh, thanks! it’s my favorite!”

carl’s head snapped up slightly, his blue eye narrowing with a flicker of amusement. “no, it’s not.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “…what?”

“your favorite flowers are daisies,” he said plainly, barely hiding the smirk threatening to pull at his lips. “you said that once, like, two months ago. when you were helping maggie in the garden.”

heat crept up your neck, and you stared at him for a second. “you… remembered that?”

his face flushed instantly, and he looked away, pretending to focus on the loose thread on his sleeve. “i remember stuff,” he muttered under his breath. “just… forgot the color of your eyes sometimes.”

you raised a brow, leaning in teasingly. “you remember my favorite flower, but not my eye color?”

“it’s not my fault!” he shot back, voice cracking slightly. “sometimes they look brown, and sometimes green. it’s confusing!”

you laughed softly, watching his ears turn red.

carl groaned, dragging his hand over his face. “just… take the flower, okay?”

smiling, you tucked the small bloom behind your ear. “fine. but you’re still making it up to me.”

he huffed but didn’t argue, his lips twitching into a shy smile as he glanced at you again.