dromomania- an irrational impulse to wander or travel without purpose.
"You're not gonna shoot me."
"How do you figure?"
"You would have done it already."
[the walking dead]
[carl grimes x fem!oc]
[started dec. 14, 22]
[slow updates sry]
[ongoing]
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WARMTH
Right now, I feel warm, I feel Carl's hands around my back holding me against his chest. I rest my head on his shoulder, there's a smooth spot by his collarbone that is perfect for me to rest my head on.
"Mornin', Alora," He smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"Hey," I look up at him, he still had his eyes closed, like he was enjoying the moment. I'm enjoying the moment too, I like being held and I think like Carl too. He is so warm, his body holds heat so well, I truly can't think of a better spot to be in.
Things with Carl had taken a quick turn, I don't think that it's directly because of Emma's murder plot but when Carl showed me vulnerability past the fact that 'he was sorry.'
"What time is it?" I mutter.
Carl groans and rolls over to the clock by the bedside table. It was one of those old ones with the hands, not those modern-age digital clocks.
"I think that says 10, I don't know my hat is covering half of it." I chuckle at the tired boy and sit up.
"I told Carol I would help her bake some cookies, I told her we should put rat poison in half of them for Negan," I grin, and I brush the sleep out of my eyes. The world comes spinning back to me, I barely remember last night.
"Careful, I don't need you falling and hurting yourself again," Carl tells me.
I shake my head with a smile, "Oh c'mon, I recovered just fine."
Carl sat up and smoothed down his frizzy hair, I step into the bathroom and brush my hair down.
I could hear Sainte groaning in pain from across the hall. Her room is across from mine with the bathroom in between our rooms.
"Might have to reschedule your plans, Lora," Carl says from my room.
"Why? To take care of my hungover roommate and friend?" I chuckle with my back to him.
He calls me over, and with a huff, I walk over to be blinded by white. Soft and delicate snow decorated the ground, flakes of it were still falling from the gray sky. I stare at the weather, I've never seen snow in real life. Judging by Carl's smile he had never seen snow either, his eye was focused on each falling snowflake.
I hear pounding up the stairs, I can only assume it's Rowan or a very excited intruder. Judging by the heavy breathing I can also assume their hungover or out of shape, possibly both.
"Alora! Alora!" Rowan yells, I can still hear the hangover in his voice, I didn't even know that was possible.
Rowan runs into my room, a big goofy smile on his face. "Guys! It's snowing!" Rowan yells excitedly at the cold weather.
Sainte's door is thrown open and an angry British girl stands there, her eyes glaring at Rowan for his volume.
"Shut the hell up!" Sainte snaps, her accent was very strong. When people are drunk or hungover they hold true to their accents, I suppose I grasp onto the little Georgian accent that I have when I'm wasted.
