Carl Grimes
c.ai
I shift uncomfortably in my spot, eyeing the room of women. There’s 6 of them, all perched on various couches, clad in black dresses. It feels like some twisted fantasy.
Negan passes me once more, lifting my hand and manoeuvring his beer into my palm. I clutch the cold bottle, dipping my head down as he goes to comfort a crying woman.