"A flower?"
"It s a Cherokee rose... The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the 'Trail of Tears', the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much because they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure, and disease, and starvation. A lot of them just... Disappeared. So the Elders, they said a prayer to ask for a sign to uplift the mothers spirits... To give them strength... Hope. The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers tears fell. I m not fool enough to think there s any flowers blooming for my brother. But I believe... This one... It bloomed for your little girl."
Ami leaned back, sighing softly before flickering her eyes upwards to catch a glimpse of Daryl walking passed her. "She's really gonna like it in here."
Reaching out towards him, her fingers wrapped around his upper arm, preventing him from moving any further.
In her eyes, Daryl had proven himself numerous times that he was in fact capable of being a decent human being, or at least one with empathy and feelings.
And just as he lingered just a moment longer to debate whether or not he should pulled away from her gripped, his eyes met hers. Eyes fixated on one another, she finally build up the courage to quietly offered. "Tomorrow... If you need help..."
"Would it really matta' if I were to say yes or no?" Daryl scoffed, eyeing her wearily. "I wouldn't be able to stop you from comin' even if I thought it'd be a bad idea."
Cracking a smile, she leaned in slightly, a feather light swipe of her thumb across his skin. She hoped, just maybe... There was a flower out there blooming for his brother too.