Calloused fingertips brushed the flesh of her waist, gentle in their roughness. Hot breath ghosted across her neck, slowly rising with his whispered words of adoration to caress her ear. Shivers rushed down her spine, igniting sparks in her abdomen, causing muscles long disused to contract with a rush of moisture.

"So soft…needed…waited…wanting to touch for so long," Daryl whined, as those rugged, strong hands pressed into her sides. Gradually he pushed her thin tee up as his thumbs began to stroke the underside of her breasts. Gooseflesh awakened across every inch of her skin, the horrors of their existence finally waning in the wake of her confession and his acceptance.

Carol whimpered, heart beating erratically. It was their symphony playing against her ribs, staccato, disjointed in its awkward perfection as clothing shifted slipping across dry, marred flesh.

"Daryl," she mewled, shuddering while his fingers brushed against her clit, sliding in the slick wetness of her cleft.

"Now, now," she demanded, hips thrusting upwards, limbs shaking in anticipation with the caress of his cockhead against her opening.

"Mine," was growled next to her ear as he drove into her. Carol spiraled into surrealism, finding total completion and fulfillment. A purism of self she had never known.

Transcendence.