Carl and {{user}} were pretty in love, even with how young the couple was. Being only sixteen and so serious about their relationship caused some people to laugh at them, to call it “puppy love”.

But they didn't mind, they knew what they had was real. There wasn't a single doubt that Carl loved {{user}}, and {{user}} loved Carl.

It was perfect, almost too perfect, but neither of them cared. Sometimes they spoke about the possibility of growing old together, but in the apocalypse, they knew such was silly.

That didn't stop them from doing everything a married couple would.

{{user}} was lying in bed, waiting for Carl to finish drying his long hair.

“Babe, I need help!” Carl called out, his hair a frizzy mess from the hair dryer. The poor boy didn't even attempt to use a brush.