015. Audience

There's so much left unspoken

Between the two of us

It's so much more exciting

To look when you can't touch

Get Off, Halestorm

Merle had always known he was going to hell. After all the shit he did, all the stuff he's said, all the blood he's stained his hands and feet with, he knew. He knew damn well and he knew others saw it to. Knew they looked at him as just some fuck up, a monster... Well they weren't to far off, so who could blame em.

Merle was a lot of things; racist, sexist, a pervert, an asshole, a prick, a psychopath, assassin (Not by choice but he was), and sometimes a loudmouth fucker. And he was well aware of what he was. He knew damn well who he was, even if he didn't understand why he was the way he was and why he did the things he did half the time.

So he could without fault say that he wasn't no cradle-robber. He'd beat the living shit and piss outta men like that. Hell back when he'd been leader of the Savage Sons, him and the boys had cut the dick off this child molester who'd been hangin' around parks lately. Merle could still hear the guys agonizing screams if he concentrated.

Which is why he feels just the smidge of disgust – something he has been known to feel every blue moon – as he presses his back to the cold steel of the bars of his room – cell – and has his hand down his pants like some fucking teenage boy, as he listens to soft moans and watches the youngest daugher of Hershel Greene get off.

His room is perfectly diagonal from hers. After earning his place among the people again – some still wary from Woodbury with him – he'd gotten to pick a room. He'd made sure to pick someplace close to Daryl – who slept in the observation tower – and had somehow ended up with a perfect diagonal view of the youngest Greene's room.

Which at times offered entertainment. Especially when she was shrugging off the horny teenage boys trying to get her attention. Fucking pathetic little shits. They were like kids compared to Girl. Girl was quiet and often flippant, but she was strong. She'd helped to bring his baby brother back months ago after they'd went on a run and got separated. Girl was a helluva lot stronger than she looked.

And he damn well knew she had to be at least eighteen-nineteen... But shit that didn't throw off the fact that he was damn aware of the fact the girl hadn't had her cherry popped (least not any signs he knew to read), was Hershel's kid (a guy he almost respected), and had the hots for his dear baby brother (gonna have to fight Mouse on that one).

Merle rolled his head back as he hand pumped and he watched, concealed by the shadows created by the walls of his cell and the black sheet he'd put over the bars. Girl had her own cover for privacy, but at the moment it was propped enough for him to see inside. The light from the moon outside helped as well.

Where he sat he could see that she was biting her right fist to try and stifle her moans as she had her hands down her tiny little blue shorts and was grinding her hips and jerking as she worked her fingers. Occasionally she'd grasp at her small, perked breast and would bite on the sheet of her covers as she drove herself to n orgasm.

Yeah. He'd seen her do this a few times now. And each time he'd get off to the sound of her making those tiny mewling, needy sounds that made his cock pulse and his hips meet the working of his hand until he was spent. He'd clean himself up with easy stealth before he was crawling into his own bed, watching Girl sleep until he fell asleep.

He watched her body jerk and shudder as she gasped and he grit his teeth at the sound before one stroke, two he was releasing a thick load and biting back a string of curses. He breathed heavily and blue eyes stayed trailed as she jerked before slowly she relaxed and there was silence, save for the sound of sleeping bodies around him and the walkers hissing and moaning in the distance along with an occasional gunshot.

Grabbing a rag – one used to clean up ithese/i kind of messes – Merle wiped himself up and easily as he got to his feet. He buttoned his jeans up and removed his flannel shirt and tank-top, standing in just his jeans as he stretched out the kinks he'd put in his body from his place in the shadows on the ground.

He looked out the window at the moon still up in the sky and grunted, knowing he'd better get some damn sleep. He had watch tomorrow and he didn't feel like being sleep deprived. It wasn't like he hadn't gone a few nights without sleep while on watch. But it didn't make it easy and it wasn't the smartest thing to do; and really he was just fucking tired.

Dropping down into his small prison bed after undoing and kicking off his boots, Merle's eyes glanced at the farmer's younger daughter's room and he could see her sleeping peacefully, legs wrapped around a pillow and snuggling it.

For a split second – as he drifted off – he could just feel the girls body wrapped around him. And the only thought to go through his head as sleep somehow found him was simple.

'Yer goin to Hell alright."

Yeah I wrote a weird one-sided METH piece. I don't even know, man. I just really kinda liked the weirdness of these two. I mean I ship Bethyl, but I like me a little Meth... Damn Dixon boys just feel like they'd be right for the youngest Greene girl... DON'T LOOK AT ME! HISSS! XD