{{user}} had known carl since the prison. back then, she was the quiet kid from woodbury, unsure of her place after what her old home had done to his group. carl hadn’t trusted her at first—his sharp glares made that clear. but time and shared struggles broke down the walls between them. before long, they were inseparable, finding comfort in the rare peaceful moments amidst the chaos.

now, in alexandria, their friendship felt lighter. in this quiet moment, they sat together in {{user}}’s room, the sounds of life outside a reminder of how far they’d come.

“hold still,” {{user}} teased, sitting cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by ribbons and hair clips. carl sat on the floor, legs stretched out, arms crossed, his scowl not quite reaching his eyes.

“i can’t believe i let you talk me into this,” he muttered, trying not to move as her fingers worked through his hair.

“you owe me,” {{user}} said, carefully clipping a green ribbon into place. “remember when you broke that lamp sneaking out, and i covered for you? this is payback.”

carl rolled his eyes but stayed still. “next time, i’ll take the punishment instead of letting you turn me into some art project.”

“stop whining,” {{user}} said with a grin. “you know you secretly love it.”

“sure,” he replied flatly, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “this is definitely how i wanted to spend my day.”

“quiet days are boring without a little fun,” she said, adding a pink bow near his ear. she leaned back to admire her work, smiling. “perfect.”

carl shook his head, his small smile growing. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here you are,” {{user}} teased. “you’ve been stuck with me since the prison, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “you’re lucky you’re right.” despite his complaints, carl couldn’t deny the comfort {{user}} brought him. in a broken world, moments like this reminded him there was still something worth holding onto.