and somehow,

in-between their tired yawns and little lullabies,

he falls so helplessly in love.

- - - - x x x - - - -

Sitting cross-legged on the black leather couch, a guitar settled on his legs, and a pencil in-between his index finger and thumb, Daryl takes a deep breath before exhaling slowly. He leans forward towards the coffee table, his fingers playing with the pencil as his tired eyes scan over his open, worn out notebook. The page is filled with scribbled out words, pencil smudges, eraser sheddings, and half-drawn super heroes. Flipping through the pages, his eyes scrunch up with each turn, until he throws the pencil to the ground and lets out a frustrated groan.

Daryl scratched his head and strummed his fingers reflexively over the strings of his guitar. The sound soothes him a bit, yet also reminds him that he will be heading back into the recording studio in a day, and that he has not come up with any new material to present to the rest of his band. The thought crosses his mind and he groans again.

Gently, Daryl placed his guitar down next to him on the couch and stretched his body out. He rolled his broad shoulders, and even managed to successfully crack his neck. Sighing in mild content, a loud yawn erupts from his mouth. He shook his head, and runs a tired hand over his face, massaging his groggy eyes.

"Daryl?"

At the call of his name, Daryl sat back up. His eyes quickly looked to the bedroom doorway, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Beth," he hoarsely breathes out. His voice is low and gravelly from hours of disuse and little sleep. Clearing his throat, he stares at her. She is leaning against the doorway, clad in nothing but his long-sleeved, button down plaid shirt that reaches her mid thighs. The sleeves are far too long, and as she brings up her hand to her face, she twitches when a button smacks her in the eye.

"That's not my hand," she tiredly whispers, pushing down the sleeve and rubbing her tired, baby blue eyes, all the while struggling to fight back a yawn. Daryl lets out a low chuckle when she finally gives in and releases a long, tired yawn.

Shaking her head profusely at the aftershock of her yawn, Beth blinked rapidly to rid of the tears. Once her blue eyes cleared, she looks to Daryl, and then at the clock. She does this once more, and another quiet beat passes before she gasps loudly, her eyes going wide, completely awake now.

"It's almost four in the morning!" She exclaims, pointing a surprised finger at the clock. He smirks and grunts in agreement. He clears his throat once more and finds his voice, "Yeah… I hope I didn't wake you."

Beth stares at him thoughtfully and Daryl sees a flash of something cross her eyes before she looks away. She rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet and unknowingly fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. Her eyes are fluttering here and there, never meeting his, and Daryl raises an amused eyebrow, wondering what has gotten her so nervous all of a sudden. She looks down for a second, and when she looks back up to him, Daryl can see a blush creeping along her pale cheeks.

"I woke up because it got too cold," she says. They continue to stare at each other, and he can see she has more to say, though she is hesitant and unsure. She suddenly breaks eye contact once more, and Daryl's fingers twitch, itching to walk over to her and tug at her chin so he can look to her eyes and force her to finish what she wants to say. Instead, he continues to stare at her silently, patiently waiting.

"What?" Daryl asks, his voice rough. Brushing back a wavy blonde strand of hair behind her ear, Beth clears her throat, and the red in her cheeks intensify. Daryl's stare is intense, and for some reason, his heart is hammering against his chest.

"Um, you should really turn the heater on, now that winter is here," she finishes quietly, her soft gaze meeting his. Daryl's hammering heart slows as he looks away from her stare and to her fidgety hands. Once more, he wants to grab her and force the truth out; instead, he nods his head in agreement.

"Mm, I'll make sure ta keep that in mind," he promises. Taking his guitar and placing it against the table, he pats the empty spot next to him. Beth stops her fidgeting, her blue eyes light up, and Daryl is graced with a bright smile from her pink lips.

Her bare feet thud against the wooden floor as she makes her way over to him. Listening, he can't help but take note that the sound of her footsteps are light and have a soft bounce to them. The way she walked comforted him somehow. Leaning back against the couch, he watches her.

Taking her seat next to him, moving around to get comfortable, Beth looks to his face, then down the length of his body. Tilting her head, she suddenly copies his sitting position; her legs stretch out, and her arms fold securely across her chest. He watches what she's doing and shakes his head. Her teasing eyes look up at him, and a goofy smile makes its way across her face. He rolls his eyes, and a giggle erupts from her mouth. Humming quietly, her hand smooths its way up and down his muscled arm, and Daryl shivers.

"Tough night?" Beth asks curiously. He glances down at her and looks at her questioning face. He notices a string of wavy hair out of place, and unconsciously reaches out to tuck the long, silky strand of blonde hair behind her ears.

"Yeah, I can't think of what ta write, and I'm meetin' up with the boys tomorrow," he explains, still looking at her. He grabs another piece of her wavy locks and follows it down to the tip, his fingers gingerly brushing across her stomach. Beth watches him fondly, loving his intimacy.

Daryl revels in the silkiness of her hair, and repeats the motion again, only this time, his fingers stop against her pink-tinted cheeks. He looks over to her blue eyes, wide and curious, waiting for his next movement. Beth can feel her anticipation manifest into yet another blush, and she watches Daryl quirk an eyebrow. Her blush grows when she feels the soft caress of his fingers brush against the side of her cheek, and Daryl laughs quietly at her embarrassment.

Beth scrunches her nose and pouts, moving her head down in response trying to hide her face away from his. He loves when he embarrasses her; he finds her adorable when she huffs out an annoyed breath. Moving his fingers away, he makes sure he barely traces her lips with the tips of his fingers before he bends down and picks up the lost pencil.

Beth looks at him from behind her curtain of yellow hair and then peeks out in wonder when he gets off the couch and picks up his guitar and settles onto the floor. Moving her hair away from her face, she can feel the heat in her cheeks subside, and she is grateful that her embarrassment isn't so blatantly obvious anymore.

She watches him strum a few strings, his eyes focused on his fingers. A few seconds pass, and he's playing an unknown tune, his fingers dancing. Beth watches him, admiration and awe flitting across her face at the sight of his knowing fingers playing.

Beth loved watching him play. The way he so passionately gave himself to his music, the way you could hear and feel the emotions of his soul when his hands skillfully played his guitar. He looked fearless and strong; Beth only hoped he would continue to let her watch him play with such devotion.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout in that little head of yours, darlin'?"

Her roaming thoughts come to a halt as his husky voice penetrates her mind. She drifts away from her daydream to find him staring at her, the sound of the melody gone. She smiles softly and ardently looks at him.

"You."

And so, the truth manages to creep its way out of Beth's curious soul, penetrating the walls of Daryl's wild and untamed one. His eyes widen at her open response. He feels frozen, and he notices nothing else except Beth's alluring face leaning closer to his.

"It's you, always," Beth breathes out. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his face; her fingers reach for him, landing on the side of his cheek, the gruff of his beard rough against her soft hand. "I didn't wake up because it was cold," Beth begins softly, rubbing her thumb against his cheek. Daryl watches with trepidation, barely registering the hammering of his heart.

"I woke up because I couldn't feel you there. I couldn't feel you, even in my sleep," her voice is like velvet and Daryl can see the ardor in her eyes, can feel it in her touch.

"It was like my soul knew you weren't there."

Daryl swears his heart stops for two beats before it thunderously bursts back to life. He doesn't know why it's that simple confession that has him realizing how he immensely and so deeply loves and cares for the small slip of a girl in front of him. She has no clue as to how much her confession has rocked his world, and Daryl sadly realizes that she probably never will.

He can feel himself choke back a sob. All he really wants to do is fall to his knees before her and cling to her like a lifeline. She is his anchor, and he does not know how to tell her this.

Daryl is a rough man of very few words, and he does not know how to even begin to tell her that her gentle heart is everything he lacks; that her kind soul is everything he had always wished for. He wants to tell her that she inspires his music, and ignites his will to be a better man, despite the love she has for his flaws.

Beth can see that her confession has made him feel small, can see the turmoil in his navy blue eyes. She can see the want to say everything he thought she deserved to hear, his wounded heart still so afraid; but Beth doesn't need to hear any of it. Her heart swells and soars, and she leans down towards him, resting her forehead against his. She gazes into his eyes, her fingers gripping the sides of his face.

"Oh Daryl, I've always known; I'll always know."

Daryl sucks in a ragged breath, almost whimpering. He watches her eyes flutter to a close, can feel her tremble at the weight of their combined emotions. He can feel her lips ghost over his, and though it is fleeting, he can still taste the depth of her love, can taste her promises.

Beth releases a soft sigh, pulling back a little to see his handsome, rugged face more clearly. She runs her fingers through his dark brown hair, and smiles at the sight of his relaxed face. She repeats the motion, and giggles when she sees a tiny hint of pink grace his tanned features. She watches his eyes flicker away from her towards anywhere else. Suddenly, her giggle turns into a full-blown laugh and Beth can see his cheeks inflame even more. It is rare for him to be embarrassed. She can't help but find his embarrassment even cuter than puppies, kittens, and baby elephants combined.

Her laughter dies down to a low chuckle when she starts to hear an unknown tune fill the room once more. A few minutes go by, and Beth decides to lay down, tucking her arms underneath her head, her affectionate gaze still on him.

"Play for me, my lullaby," she requests. Daryl pauses to look at her. He sees her lovely face, wistful and weary. Wisps of blonde hair flow down her shoulders and down her back like a calm river. His shirt hugs her small body, and accentuates her soft curves, the dip of her hip making Daryl's skin crawl. His eyes travel down to where his shirt stops, the fabric brushing and barely covering the curve of her butt. Her legs are pale, fragile and feminine; but he knows their own strength, can still feel their power wrapped around his waist.

And in that moment, he knows he'll do anything she asks.

"Always," he replies, and it's a promise. Daryl's smile is so endearing, so soft, that Beth wants to fight against sleep so that she could see him play in all his passion- all for her. But his eyes are telling her to relax, to cross over to her sweet dreams, filled with his raspy voice, and the feel of his rough, skilled hands on her face.

Though Daryl ironically finds it hard to come up with the right words to say, he more than makes up for it through his intense stares. Beth constantly finds herself lost in the depths of Daryl's dark blue orbs, and this moment is no different. She can see the deep blue of his eyes telling her: I'll never leave you.

Clearing his throat, Daryl stares at Beth's face, her baby blues slowly drifting. He fixes his fingers on the right chords, takes a breather, and pauses to remember how important this song is to him. He wrote it for her, and he would only sing it to her, for her.

Daryl's voice echoes the empty room, and fills Beth's heart and soul with warmth. He looks at her as he plays, and pours his heart. Beth's eyelids droop down, the power of sleep overpowering her. She falls asleep to his voice still fresh in her mind, and she smiles softly at this. As she drifts away to her dreams, Daryl's voice dies down and he stops playing.

Placing his guitar back against its rack, he tucks stray papers neatly back into his notebook. He can feel something within him bubbling, and he realizes that it's yet another spark of inspiration, courtesy of the young woman he so reverently loves.

Walking up to Beth's sleeping form, he wraps an arm around her legs, while the other wraps around her shoulders. Gently, he lifts her into his strong arms, her weight not bothering him in the least. He has carried her many times, and every time, he revels in the moment because it makes him feel like he is the only one who can protect her.

Her long hair flows down his arms, and he shifts to have a steadier hold. She moves a little at the sudden movement and Daryl stills, hoping that he doesn't wake her. Instead, Beth moves in close, leaning her face against his. Looking down at the woman in his arms, he smiles and brings her face up to his and places a soft kiss against her forehead.

Walking back to their room, Daryl settles her onto their bed, takes his place next to her, and pulls the blanket over them. He smoothed her hair out, and she instinctively settles herself into him. Welcoming her into his arms, he brings her closer, and breathes all of her in. She smells like fresh January rains, and crisp October apples. Feeling his eyes start to droop, Daryl can already see the start of his blissful dream come to his mind.

Even asleep and dreaming, her smile is as vivid and bright as the sun, and her playful laughter is the sweetest and most loveliest melody he has ever heard.

- - - - x FI N x - - - -

A/N: I wrote this (and a lot of these little Bethyl AU's) months before the MSF, but I was too much of a wuss to post it. But right now, I don't even care if it's utter crap; I'm so sad with this sudden loss, that I feel like the only way to make everything okay is to post these little AU's.

This is for all of you who love, and will always remember Beth Greene.

- lovelycollision