Sage ? Carl Grimes

11 ? numb

His hands held onto my thighs as he carried me on his front. I could see his semi-bulky arms flex as he carried me.

I felt lightweight in his arms. He made his strength seem so effortless.

Carl carried me through the kitchen, running into a few chairs and hardly tripping over an empty box. He was clumsy and flimsy as I kissed him. I distracted him from something as typical as walking; I made him stupid.

Stupid. Stupid is what you are. Stupid is what this is, I thought guiltily.

Carl used my back to push the kitchen door open. He walked us through and parted our lips to see the way through the living room. I held onto his neck as he walked, nuzzling my head inside his shirt.

He held me close, kicking aside trash or clothes or whatever was below us. It didn't matter; the world didn't matter. I was being held close to a boy who wanted nothing more than me. I yearned for a feeling I didn't even know what it was. I yearned for a pair of pulsating lips that greeted me unknowingly. He did not know me. Carl was a stranger; a stranger who didn't want to care. A stranger who was lonely. A stranger who wanted to numb what ran through my head.

Carl knelt down, gently setting me down on the couch. The soft cushion greeted my back, and I melted into the throw pillows surrounding my head.

Carl still stood on his feet, greatly towering over me. I folded my hands together on my stomach, watching him get ready to get on top of me.

He wore a tight, grey baseball tee. The sleeves were white, and clung against his skin; making his muscles truly bolded. Carl's shaggy, dark hair was slightly wavy, and swooped itself to the side. His lips were a brooding, bloody red; raw and ready and tempting. Carl gaped down at me in awe, shaking his head.

Carl then crawled onto the couch, getting on top of me. He climbed above me and used his elbows to keep from crushing me. I could feel his stomach lower down on mine, creating pressure.

"What?" I asked nervously. He wasn't kissing me; he was just staring down at me. His lips were parted, and he shook his head.

"You're so...pretty," Carl said, breathless. He smirked a little at me, his cheeks heating up in embaressment. "...beautiful."

I squeezed my eyes shut, covering my face slightly. I laughed into my palms and could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I was embaressed but flattered. I did not know how to take a compliment, I had never been this near intimate with a guy before. I did not know how to accept beauty; because I was anything but beautiful.

"Just kiss me," I begged. I grabbed his face again and looked into the oceanic view his eyes displayed.

He leaned down and came at me with full force. Carl slid his tongue between kisses, and I used my own against him. I trailed my fingers down to the hem of his shirt, tugging on it.

With Carl's aid, I slowly began pulling it over his head. He and I both awkwardly struggled to do so, having to part the kiss to complete the task. By the time his shirt was free from his chest and had to be pulled through to take off; Carl had gotten his arms stuck inside. His arms were mangled inside the shirt; which was still wrapped around his forehead. I could only see his nose and below; his eyes and upper head was caught inside the shirt.

"Shit..." Carl grunted, annoyed. He tugged on his shirt and tried to pull it over, but he was caught. "It's stuck..."

He sat on top of me, his arms caught up inside his shirt like a dumbass. I clapsed a hand over my mouth and giggled, seeing him struggle.

"You're such an idiot," I smiled, sitting up on the couch. "Here..."

I grabbed the shirt and tried to help him out of it. Carl was laughing at his stupidity, having to have me help him take off his shirt. I untangled his flismy arms, finally pulling the tight shirt over his head.