carl grimes was never the type to fall for someone easily, but with you, it felt almost inevitable. the two of you had shared a few classes—english, history, and, most notably, biology, where you’d been paired up for a group project on cell division. carl had spent more time fumbling with his notes and stealing glances at you than actually working.

he wasn’t sure what possessed him to ask you out. it had taken weeks of psyching himself up, only for his voice to crack when he finally got the words out. but somehow, you’d said yes. and now here you were, sitting across from him at the local diner, the remnants of your milkshakes and fries between you.

“so, uh, did you like the movie?” carl asked, his voice steady, but his fingers nervously drumming against the side of his glass. his blue eyes darted up to meet yours, and when you smiled, he couldn’t help but smile back, even if his cheeks were already burning.

the date had gone better than he expected—no awkward silences, no embarrassing stumbles, just easy conversation and laughter. and when it came time to walk you home, he insisted, even though your place wasn’t far.

as you reached your front gate, the streetlight above casting a soft glow over both of you, you turned to him with a small smile. “now good night,” you said softly, lingering for a moment before heading inside.

carl swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. he felt like he was standing on the edge of something terrifying and wonderful all at once. finally, he found his voice.

“thank you, my lady,” he said, his tone teasing but laced with sincerity. “be careful of my heart, won’t you? you see… you’re taking it home with you tonight. please don’t break it.”

his words hung in the air for a moment, and when your smile widened, he swore his heart skipped a beat.