A/N: For Day 1 of Bethyl Week. I've never written anything for Bethyl before so if this is bad I'm super sorry! I had a bit of trouble coming up with an idea for this one, but I'm glad I finished it in time for the first day. :)

It was going to be dark soon. Around her the camp settled, the fading flicker of the campfire within her peripheral view. If she quickened her writing pace she'd have it all down before the light faded completely. On her lap lay a slightly damp strip of shiny paper, her slanted scrawl covering over half the page. She recounted the events of the day carefully in her head, which wasn't exactly extravagant, just more walking, resting, eating, sometimes chatting, and of course killing the dead.

Across the way next to Rick, just barely recognizable in the low lighting, sat Daryl in conversation. She couldn't hear his voice from this distance and he doubted he noticed her, but she smiled anyway. She remembered earlier that day how he came up behind her as she was hanging up clothes to dry and nuzzled her hair clumsily, yet playfully . It was only a few stolen seconds, but she still remembered feeling her heart drop and her cheeks flush pleasantly while Rosita eyed them curiously nearby. Neither of them even bothered to contain their grins, and in that moment she couldn't either as she scribbled the event down quickly.

She began noticing that change in him. It came slowly, little by little. Daryl was more open now, different, but a new different, a good different. As much as she was fine keeping things low-key between them once their relationship status upgraded, she couldn't help but feel thrilled at how much he ended up showing in front of everyone. It wasn't even close to flaunting gestures of affection, or nothing near a fearful glance around to see if anyone spotted them. It was just normal, his kind of normal, a normal he wasn't afraid to display because it was a normal he had never gotten before.

Sure at times it was messy and uncertain and fumbling, but it was him and he was trying. There was an unsteadiness still of his hand as it sometimes grasped hers a little too tightly when they walked side by side on the road, his fingers trying to find the best way to lay against hers until finally she had to clench her whole hand around his to stop them, fixed his fingers until they were between hers. She didn't miss his flush, but that was normal, and she smiled back evenly.

All these things he did she began secretly writing about, all neatly inked on her makeshift diary pages (which ended up being nothing but pieces of cardboard from boxed food or the back of food labels since finding a diary for her wasn't exactly top priority right now, and she didn't ask or complain). She enjoyed writing about him, pondering his personality and quirks. Sometimes when it was especially quiet at night, she would take out a page and re-read it with the dim glow of an old book-light she had found, while he lay totally oblivious beside her in sleep.

She was surprised at how easy it really was to keep these snippets of her day tucked away from everyone, although the time for her to sit down and actually write them were getting less and less. Usually she only wrote in the evening, or in the early morning before anyone woke up. It helped, writing everything down, pretending she had a diary again.

Hearing a snap come from behind, she looked up and noticed Daryl was not in his spot anymore. She instinctively folded up her piece of paper quickly (which was really the back of a canned corn label she's carefully ripped off the can) and shoved it in her pocket. Just then she felt his presence beside her, settling in closely with a leftover piece of rabbit on a skewer in one hand.

He was motioning for her to take it but she shook her head. "No, I'm not hungry." She suddenly felt a little nervous with him being so near, afraid he'd seen her with the page. Perhaps he could sense it.

He shrugged and took a large bite, and the words she dreaded to hear from him came out. "So what're you hiding in your pocket, Greene?"

Beth tensed and looked away, feeling his gaze not on her face, but on her jean pocket. It was too late. She couldn't move away now.

"It's nothing...just litter I picked up from the ground." She tried pathetically, knowing he wouldn't believe such an obvious lie. But she still tried making a gesture that it was indeed nothing but that.

"Hm.." was all Daryl said, returning back to his rabbit. His face was unreadable, one ability he was able to achieve better than she could.

The silence between them stretched on and on. So long that Beth was beginning to relax as she watched others moving around the camp, zipping up their tents to go to sleep, or heading off for first watch duty. Perhaps he started to think nothing of it. Until:

"It's got your handwriting on it," he commented, now peering at her with that small smirk. Beth felt her shoulders lower in defeat. Looking down at her side, she cursed herself for the fact that the piece of paper was sticking halfway out, words like 'adorable' and breath-taking' stood out and before she had a chance to do anything, his hand went straight for her pocket, pulling the paper out and high above him when she let out a squeal and reached to try and snatch it back. "Daryl, don't!"

"You keepin' secrets from me? Didn't take you for that type," he said, grinning widely as he dropped his skewer to place one hand against her outstretched arm and the other managing to unfold the paper. His eyes only needed to briefly scan the bottom of the paper before his grin dropped slightly and he realized what she had been writing. Letting her arm go, the force of her struggle had her tumbling into his side, her face red as he let her take the page.

Settling herself upright again, she smoothed it out gently, thankful that only some of the words got smudged and none of it tore. She finally turned her gaze to his and blinked when she was met with an intense stare, one that was hesitant, sheepish. She could tell he now felt bad about him prying, but she gave him a reassuring smile, blushing again.

"I just...can't help but write things down now. I miss my diary a little," she murmured, hugging her knees to her chest and sighing. She thought she wouldn't need a diary anymore, as she could just as easily talk about anything to Daryl and he'd listen.

She felt his arm move around her then, tugging her closer to him, so close she felt his breath in her ear. "Didn't know you wanted a diary that badly. I'll get you one, Beth." His voice was kind and soothing, and she felt her heart drop again.

She was about to shake her head and tell him it wasn't important, but he gave her that sharp, stubborn look and she couldn't say no. So she just nodded and closed her eyes, clutching the note to her again as her nose nudged into his chest warmly. They were silent again for a while before she lightly punched his arm.

"Only if you promise not to read it."

"Right, I promise."