The imagine below is inspired by the following images (they do not belong to me)
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In this imagine, you and Carl were never together. You become romantically involved with your childhood best friend Nathaniel (Asa Butterfield face claim) who ended up dying shortly after you found out you were pregnant with triplets. You ended up giving birth to your children and then died on a suicide mission. Carl is retelling your story to your children, who are already considered adults. Carl also decided not to have any children of his own, as he never did fully get over you. He wears your heart pendant necklace, and uses your old hunting knife as one of his weapons. He treasures your memory deeply, and will always love you.
(Song suggestion: The Night We met, by Lord Huron) ____
"Mom killed Negan with Lucille?" Elysian asked in surprise, although he already knew the answer to it.
"Yep. Hit him straight in the head for about 25 minutes in total." Carl smirks as the triplets look at each other excitedly, before looking back at Carl and waiting him to finish the story. "She then grabbed her machete and sawed his head off, and threw it to a wild herd of zombies and watched as his head got eaten."
The siblings put on disgusted but impressed faces. Carl chuckled and shook his head, turning his gaze over to his hunting knife and beginning to sharpen it. "Carl?"
He looks back up. "Yes Amelia?"
"Were you in love with our mother?" She questioned curiously, as Theresa and Elysian listened intently.
Carl signed, reaching over to the back of his neck and scratching it nervously. "She was a good friend of mine, I loved her very much."
"I meant in love, Carl. You talk about her all the time, and you spend days looking at her old photos."
Carl signed once again, before giving in. "Yes, I was in love with your mother. She was the first friend I ever had once the apocalypse started, and she risked her life for me more times than I can count with both my hands and toes."
"But she didn't love you back." Elysian stated, unaware of how much his statement had started to hurt Carl, who only nodded. "Yes. She didn't love me, she loved your father. And I've learned to live with that."
"No you haven't." Theresa adds, crossing her arms and looking over at her godfather with an unimpressed glare. Carl signs, standing up from the wooden log he had been sitting in. "I'm going to bed. You three should too, you've got a big day tomorrow." That's all Carl could muster out before he walked away, heading towards his house.
Once he entered his deserted home, he locked the door and leaned against it. He took some time and thought about his father, his mother, Michonne, Daryl, Carol, Glenn, whom had all already passed away years ago. And of course Maggie, who was already on her death bed.
He then thought about her, [Y/N] [L/N]. He thought about the first time he met her, and the last time he saw her. Soon, a tear fell from his only eye, as his weak vision blurred with sadness.
He headed over to his study, where he spent his days doing paperwork for the hilltop. But, he kept a secret drawer on the left side of his working desk, which were filled with letters he had written for her. Some were just simple poems, others were long and heartfelt paragraphs, and others were just short phrases.
He took a sheet of notebook paper and a black pen, and took a deep breath before writing his thoughts on the white paper.
"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you. Take me back to the night we met."
