Carol set the timer for her casserole to bake. It was an uneventful Saturday afternoon, but she wasn't complaining. The mundane had become what she strived for. It was the better alternative to being on the road constantly – evading starvation and walkers.
A firm knock at the door drew her from her reverie. She supposed it was one of her neighbors. She grabbed her knife, keeping it close to her side, just in case. She wouldn't take any chances. Her heart plummeted in her chest once she noticed it was Daryl. She opened the door, noting his hands filled with various items.
"Did you go on a run?" Carol inquired, glancing at the array of items tucked away in his arms.
"Yeah, a small one. There's a deserted town bout' fifteen miles from here. Aaron and I thought we'd scout it out, and we found some supplies while we were there," Daryl remarked, sidestepping around her. She followed him into the kitchen where he laid the goods on the table.
Carol blinked, spying a small box. She picked it up, opening it. A small pair of diamond studs winked under the fluorescence of the overhead light. "Are you looting jewelry stores now?"
Daryl shrugged. "Those are for you, I found 'em. Everything else was already picked over, but I thought you might like 'em, since you wear the same ones all the time."
Carol instinctively touched the small studs in her ears – another gift from Ed on one of their random anniversaries – an apology gift for blacking her eyes the previous night. She removed the earrings, the gold suddenly feeling heavy, since he'd reminded her they were still there. She delicately removed the studs from their package, placing them in her ears.
"So, what's the occasion? I've never known you to be much of a gift giver," Carol stated, analyzing him.
Daryl shoved his hands into his pockets. "Maggie wanted all of us to write down our birthdays for a community potluck, but you didn't."
Carol stiffened. "Because what's worth celebrating? The residents here may still care about trivial matters such as birthdays, but the world that we know has ended. To me, there's no point in recognizing something so insignificant as a birthday, especially mine," she scoffed.
"Hey! We're not out there anymore, and that's good as any reason for you to celebrate. I told you we needed to start over, and this is us starting over," he retorted, etching closer to her. He grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers.
"Besides, your birthday isn't the only one I'm celebrating," he said softly, pressing the Cherokee rose into her other hand. Carol glanced down, noting the white bloom.
"Sophia..." she whispered softly, delicately stroking the petals.
"I know she's gone, but you should always remember her," he replied, kissing her brow softly like she often did for him.
"Thank you," she whispered tearfully, kissing his cheek affectionately.
"It was nothin'" he flushed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
"No Daryl, it was something. No one talks about her anymore, so I don't. You've reminded me I should though. We were out there, scavenging and surviving for so long, and I never got the chance to properly grieve for her. I've done everything in my power to drown out her memory because I've been so focused on surviving and keeping the others alive. It's hard to just take a moment for myself anymore," she confided.
He nodded. "But we're safer here, and you can do that now."
Carol shook her head, smiling brokenly at him. "I want to believe that, I'm trying my hardest too."
"You can, you just have to try," he said, dusting his finger down her jaw.
"Today I will, but I can't guarantee I will tomorrow," she replied, clutching the rose to her chest.
"Today is all we have," he remarked.
"Yeah, well today isn't my birthday," she chortled, grinning at him.
"So, when is it?" he inquired.
"Tomorrow, actually," she said, turning away and placing the bloom on the counter. "But don't you dare tell anyone. I don't need the others fawning all over me."
"I won't say a word; cross my heart," he said, granting her one of his rare smiles.
Carol smiled back, feeling at ease for the first time in ages. "Wanna hang around for some casserole?" she offered upon hearing the timer ring.
"I don't have any plans," he muttered, reaching for the bottle of wine he'd smuggled in his bag.
"Oh, so you did have intentions of celebrating my birthday all along?" she smirked, noticing the bottle of cheap spirits.
"I ain't got anything else to do," he mumbled, cracking open the bottle.
"You're sweet. Thank you again for all of this, for everything, and most of all, for encouraging me to remember my little girl," she replied, filling his heart with warmth. Daryl wasn't good with words, but his actions had spoken louder than any sentiment anyone could have shown towards her, and that's when she knew she loved him.