Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

4 ➸ ordeal

{ Yellow Flicker Beat by Lorde }

S A G E

I bit my lip and started down the stairs, being precise with my movements. My head swung left and right checking for Carl's blue eyes to glow through the night, and I earned a foreign feeling while thinking of them.

Why is he still here? I wondered. He's staying with you in your home, yet he will not give you a reason for it. Why doesn't he just kill you and take your little belongings for his own?

I reached the bottom of the staircase, sighing. I held my light sweater to my body and scooted my socks against the wood floors. I had a shaking body and I tried to contain my absurdness, but I had zero self defense or strength against the lovely, evil boy. And he was very unpredictable.

"Carl?" I called faintly.

I didn't receive a response, only a few grunts and sighs.

I circled around the kitchen and opened the door, peering into the living room. It was dim and I found it difficult to see, but I recalled a dark, shadow figure sitting on the couch.

I could see the shape of the boy's sheriff hat, and he took it from his head and set it on the leather couch beside him. I knew well enough it was Carl I was seeing, and I watched as his back faced me. He grunted and tugged at the hem of his light shirt, pulling it over his body and setting it alongside him. He flexed his back and stretched his limbs, exasperated sighs slipping from his evil mouth. I could not see his face or his eyes or expression, but his body was flexed and tight and I knew far better than to admire it.

I then stumbled a bit on a loose can, having to catch myself on the kitchen countertop.

Carl bolted to his feet and turned around, resting a hand on his gun. It was dark and his face was perked up, highly alarmed. His lips were parted and his crystal eyes hardened, but he looked at my face and studied its somewhat familiar features. Carl mumbled something, relieved to meet the grey of my eyes, and not the white of dead ones.

"Sage...fuck," Carl sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He tossed his gun on the couch and plopped his body aimlessly on it.

"I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I whispered. My body ached as I went around the kitchen and entered the living room, standing a fair distance away from the boy.

He still remained in his dark skinny jeans but his chest was bare and tempting. I noticed the tightness in his abdomen as he exposed it freely.

"What're you doing down here?" Carl muttered, massaging his temples.

"I...uh, I came here to ask you the same thing," I responded, folding my arms tightly at my chest.

The still house was near full darkness, as it was night. Carl had a dark face but glowing eyes, and I felt my vulnerability melt into the blueness of their origins, the longer I stared into them. I swallowed a little as he dug into his backpack, ignoring me.

"You can sit down. I mean, if you want," Carl quickly covered up, shaking his head afterwards at himself.

His offer was oddly welcoming coming from him, but he kept up with a gruff, careless voice, offering me a shrug after his words. Carl's eyes trailed down my body and I solemnly did the same, but the boy didn't seem to mind it.

"Oh...alright," I said.

I turned around and searched around for a seat, finding a dirty coffee table in the corner. I gripped the edges of the wood and began scooting it forward. My arms trembled and I whimpered a little, while doing such a simple task. I pulled it five feet in front of the boy, sitting down on it and wiping the rising dust and soot from my legs.