Too fucking chilly out here, Daryl thought as he slipped his denim jacket onto his arms and straightened it in the front. He was busy tinkering away at his bike. The maintenance on his vehicle of choice wasn't too terrible-he was lucky that when he'd bought it, he'd opted for the choice that was more fuel-efficient than speed-oriented. Otherwise, he'd have to fill up with gas more often than anyone else had time for. The grease from the gears coated his fingertips in that familiar shade of black smudge as the chilly early-autumn winds chilled his flesh and raised the fine hairs on their surface. Brushing away a few of the leaves that happened across his hands' path, his eyes softened at the sight of someone approaching. Daryl had chosen this little camp away from the farmhouse for a reason: group settings gave him far more anxiety than he was willing to admit aloud. At this moment, the fact that he wasn't on the defensive end meant that the person approaching could only be one person: Andrea.
"Having fun?" she asked, her sweet tones reaching Daryl's ears like a shockwave of ecstasy. "Must be. I've never seen you work on your bike so often as you have since we've been here."
Daryl shook his head, his eyes leaving the bike momentarily to observe her. Her slender arms were folded across her chest. She was wearing a bubble vest of some kind-undoubtedly one owned by one of the Greene sisters-Andrea didn't strike him as the type of woman who would own one of those clothing articles of her own free will. Underneath it, she was wearing a t-shirt. "Aren't you cold?" he asked, genuinely concerned for her body temperature, but he attempted to keep his phrasing vague as he knew full-well that she was a lawyer in her life before, and could read him better than he wanted her to.
Andrea shrugged lightly, the shake of her shoulders loosening the blonde waves caressing her broad, strong shoulders. "Nothing a good coat couldn't cure," she said softly, her half-smirk upturning the corner of her lips, tugging her perfect lips upwards just enough to make Daryl's heart surge. She stepped a bit closer to him, and Daryl struggled to disguise the fact that his breath had just hitched in his throat. Why does she have such an effect like this on me? What is it about her that does it? All that Daryl knew was that whenever she was around him or spoke to him or even looked into his eyes, his entire body ached for her to touch him, ached to feel her lips pressed against his own, longed for her body to be entwined with his.
"I've been making more arrows for my stores lately, actually," he said, showing her the vast array of hand-made arrows that had been his project for over a week.
Andrea smiled-a full-on smile-and Daryl felt like dying. "Very impressive. If only everyone else in the group could be half as handy as you."
Daryl felt like melting into a puddle of goop at her feet, completely melted at her words-what the fuck is happening to you, man?! Who are you anymore?!-but he shrugged. "It hadda be done," he said to her, sniffling and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before standing from the ground and grabbing his bandana to wipe his hands on.
"Love the jacket," Andrea said, closing the distance between them and moving around his back to get a look at the wings on the back. "Impressive. Where'd you buy such a nice jacket?"
Daryl shrugged. "I had the jacket before. I sewed the wings on."
Andrea's gorgeous, blue-green eyes widened. "By yourself?" Daryl nodded. "You sew? You sew?"
Daryl nodded, shrugging at her words as he placed his wrench back into the sidebag on the bike. "Hard to believe?"
Andrea let out a snigger-half giggle, half snicker-and nodded. "Oh, yes! Who knew a bad-ass could sew?" She nudged his arm with her elbow, her arms tightly locked across her chest.
"You think I'm a bad-ass?" Daryl sent her a devious smirk as he walked over to his arrows and pulled the knife from his ankle, sharpening tips onto them. "Didn't know that was something that could describe me."
"Oh, please, Daryl." The second his name rolled off her tongue, Daryl closed his eyes, feeling his head spin at the sound of her perfect voice uttering his name. "Everyone knows you are."
"Well, I cook and hunt and sew and fix my bike. Dunno if that makes me a bad-ass, but-"
"And you also camp away from the group."
"For a reason."
"Trying to escape the people?"
Daryl looked up at her. "Don't psychoanalyze me, Angel-Face. Didn't ask you to be my shrink."
Andrea frowned. "Maybe we just want to stay together."
"Who all is in this 'we'? Nobody wants me around-you know it."
"You're intimidating, Daryl-that's all."
"Didn't answer my question."
Andrea sighed, sitting down beside him and resting her elbows on her thighs, her gaze turned down at the grass just between her feet. "Rick wants you closer to the house-he thinks it's too dangerous for any one of us to be so far away from the house, even if the person is a bad-ass and can defend himself." Her gaze turned to look at him and Daryl glanced between the arrow tips and her. Insert the awkward pauses right when I'm most uncomfortable...of course. "It was my suggestion, actually."
"You think I can't take care of myself?"
Andrea shook her head, placed her hand onto his forearm almost instinctually. Daryl jumped slightly at the contact and looked at her, his face blank, searching. "You're more capable than the rest of us here. I just...I want you closer to the house. I'd feel safer knowing that you're near the rest of us...near me."
Daryl resisted his body's strong urge to lean in and kiss her, knowing that it would be inappropriate and, hell, he didn't know what he was doing. "Andrea..."
"You don't have to say anything. Just promise me you'll consider it?"
"If I don't?"
"Then I'll move into your tent." Daryl's eyes widened and looked at her suspiciously, convinced that she actually would. Of course, he wanted her to. Why was the the only woman to have this effect on him? It was like she was underneath his skin, twinging every time he thought of her and coming to a rolling boil each time they shared vulnerable moments like the one they were currently sharing. His guard was always down when she was near, always more honest and more like the softy Merle had always told him he was, that Daryl was Rick's bitch. Maybe Daryl was Andrea's bitch...maybe he liked it.
"That a threat or a promise?" he teased, amazed at how well he was holding together vocally, given how much his heart was shuddering.
"Neither. It's a challenge." Andrea said, giving him a smile and squeezing the sleeve over his arm gently. "Promise you'll consider it?"
Daryl rolled his eyes. "I'll give it some thought."
"I'll take your word for it." She stood from her place and started to walk away before she stopped and turned and looked back at him, smiling faintly and giving him a small wave. Daryl nodded at her and smiled some in her direction.
The look on her face was the same worried expression she had given him when she'd bolted to his side after firing the shot that grazed his temple. He had been alright, of course, but Andrea had fumbled at his side, groveling in earnest for what she'd done. Daryl had forgiven her the moment she'd fired the shot, knowing that in her position, he would've done the same. Here was different. It was like they were building towards something, something unseen. The tension was growing, and Daryl was growing more and more anxious.