Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

7 ➸ aesthetic

{Angels by The xx.}

Let's hear it for ___ (ship name)

Carl

Temptation was a devious urgency, and I could feel the rapacity pulsate throughout my veins.

I pushed a saltine cracker through my lips, and because of the rawness, they tingled and irritated. I picked up the dust and age of the cracker on my tongue, and my throat throbbed as I forced the stale food down my body.

Eating felt like a punishment. I took whatever I could find and ate it to keep myself a beating heart.

My stomach turned, and I narrowed my eyes to see through the darkness of the office. There were four crackers left, each calling my name. I scowled and shook my head at the imperishable, shoving it aside and sighing out.

My leg cramped up. My limbs were tangled around as I stiffly sat on the concrete floors. They were cold and cruel and dirty from the years.

I heard a soft coo, and my entire body tensed. I firmed my face and jerked up toward the noise, staring at the couch.

I sighed out in relief. A thin body was sprawled out on the sofa. It was a girl, and her complexion was smooth and light and her body glowed through the darkness of the night.

I swallowed the moisture rushing to my mouth. I found myself having to blink to look away from this girl, but of course; I ended up admiring what I knew I couldn't have for myself.

Her legs were scrunched up, and she looked uneven on the minimal space to the couch. Sage's head was tilted and facing me, although her eyes were shut.

Her face was dirty; she wasn't all perfect. Her arms hung loosely over the edge of the couch, their right side up gave me the full view of her scars.

Sage's hair was a sandy, dirty blonde mess. It framed her hollow cheekbones and only intensified her starvation.

There was a loose, patched blanket over her body, and she tangled her limbs through the edges. She occasionally would tremble in her sleep, or hoist up for a split second; a night scare.

Peaking just over the blanket was her shirtless torso. She insisted on wearing the bra to keep her little dignity left, and I smirked to myself and felt my cheeks heat up at the thought.

Her arms and lower torso were tightly secured with bandages, and blood seeped through the material.

She was sickly skinny. I knew this girl was emotionally strong, but her mental and physical capabilities were low.

Sage was skin and bones. I could only imagine me running my hands down every inch of her hollow body, and wanting to heal the scars she marked with her own, vile hands.

She was beautiful. It may have been the desperation or loneliness of my teenage life, but I had never looked at a girl and wanted to love her so slowly, until my pain was gone and forgotten.

I bit my lip, remembering my promise and scolding myself for thinking.

You're not allowed to love, I told myself. Love it just a game. A game you're bound to lose. You can't afford to lose anyone else you love, Carl. You've already let your family in close and watched them die; do not do the same for the lovely Sage Riley.

My hands were greedy with my curiosity. I could feel the warmth echo through my body at the heaving thought of loving this sick girl.

The world had lost its aesthetic meaning. There was no beauty or joy or gifts or sanity left for us. Just death and a few fucking saltine crackers to feed off of.