after everything, carl grimes had grown into a steady leader—someone alexandria could depend on. his father’s absence had left a hole in the community, but carl stepped up, a mix of rick’s wisdom and his own quiet strength. he wasn’t loud or commanding, but people listened to him. his voice carried weight because it came with care, and despite everything he’d endured, carl hadn’t lost his heart.

that’s what {{user}} admired about him the most. life wasn’t perfect—not with walkers still roaming and the ever-present threat of other communities or rogue groups—but alexandria had become a place of relative peace under carl’s guidance.

their relationship wasn’t flashy or overly romantic. they didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. instead, it was small gestures—a touch on the shoulder when passing by, the shared quiet of sitting together on the porch, or carl saving an extra bit of food from the rations just because he knew {{user}} liked it.

today was one of those rare, calm days. the sun hung low in the sky, golden light spilling over alexandria’s walls. carl sat cross-legged in the grass near the gardens, repairing one of his boots. {{user}} was stretched out beside him, her back resting against the trunk of a tree, watching him work.

“you’re gonna stab yourself with that needle,” {{user}} teased, breaking the silence.

carl glanced up, smirking. “haven’t yet. i’m good at this.”

“uh-huh. remember that time you tried to patch up my jacket and ended up sewing the sleeve shut?”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “okay, that was one time. and you still wore it.”

“because i had no choice! you made it worse when you tried to fix it.”

carl laughed, a sound so rare and genuine it made {{user}}’s chest ache.

“you’re lucky i like you,” she muttered, hiding her face behind her arm.

“yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “i am.”