THE HORSE'S HOOVES HIT the ground steadily, creating satisfying pattern as it's mane blew slightly in the breeze. The stone beneath them was starting to wear, and Rick was just starting to get hopeful. Buildings spiked from the ground up, into industrial sized peaks that they themselves would never reach. Walkers sprung from every corner, yet Michonne felt a sense of superiority - she considered herself untouchable, even though she knew she shouldn't think of anything that way.
Jane's horse followed behind the couple, galloping sporadically to try keep up with them. With her mothers knife in hand, she would swipe at walkers that might just get too close. Carl was beside her, on his horse that he had named 'Star' because of the print of her fur: a sizeable star shaped white patch of hair on her midriff.
"Nice one," he compliments as she lets the pierced Walker go limp. Gunshots often scared the horses, so it was just a good idea not to use any guns overall.
"Thanks," she says, smiling at him before speeding up to a trot. She's still trying to get her head around this happiness, this normalcy. Was Unconditional the new word for this love?
Maggie, Enid, Carol, Ezekiel, Rosita, Eugene and a few others followed on the mission, on a cart big enough to hold a small car.
"How we looking up there, Rick?" Maggie shouts over snarls and clicks.
"It looks open, for the most part," he yells back, directing his voice to everyone, before clambering off his horse to hit the ground on two steady feet. The rest of the group seems to follow in action, and as soon as Carl gets off of Star, he helps Jane down from her horse, putting his hands on her waist as she hops to the floor.
Rick nods at the two of them as they catch up to follow him and Michonne, slicing through walkers when necessary. Jane hadn't been in a city like this one since Atlanta, which had maybe been around five years years ago, by now. She remembered city life better than she thought she did, and as they roamed the seeping streets she started to imagine what it would've looked like with cars racing by. Rays of sunlit hues surrounded them as dust glittered in the daylight, craning down from the skies and weaving in from the cracks in the concrete.
She looks over to Carl, his face bathed in warmth. He closes his eyes as they walk, tilting his head up towards space and reeling it in. When he opened his eye, it reflected speckles of golds and iridescent blues back into life as if those colours had never existed before him: It wouldn't be a stretch to believe that the sky had seen his eyes and modelled those brilliant hues after him, directly.
"What?" he asks, feeling her eyes on him.
"Nothing, you're just so pre-" They suddenly snap their heads in Rick's direction, who is informing everyone that they've made it. The cart is still wheeling behind, and Rick's plan proceeds as he helps to situate them near the entrance of the museum for easier access. Carl extends his machete from his right hip to his chest, protecting himself as they used all effort to push open the masterfully carved wood that was withholding them from inside's content.
As the doors crack and break under their weight, they start to fall into the foyer, coughing and spluttering as they hit the ground in a ruckus. Everyone stumbles upwards onto their knees as they intake dust and dirt that had been sitting for a long, long time.
Before anyone can even begin to rise completely to their feet, Carl is already asking if Jane is okay, and looking to her cautiously. She nods, unable to speak but still perfectly conscious. He places his hands on her waist to help her up (though he knows she doesn't need it) and he brushes the dirt from her shoulders as she straightens.
No one takes notice of their quiet moments - simple moments. But the act of his hand on her waist or a brush of their shoulders was everything. After those soul crushing weeks in October last year, they never shrugged off the little things, because they just meant so much more now. The glance of an eye or the ghost of a touch - it all mattered.
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"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„
Fanfiction"Remember the first time you kissed me? It was on the cheek, outside of Hershel's quarantine zone. I remember feeling conflicted, because, I couldn't enjoy it. You were about to step into danger, and could've died. That's the first time I felt it, a...
