You lean back against the cool brick of the guard tower, your feet hanging out under the railing. With the afternoon sun around to the other side, the spot you've chosen is nicely shaded and gives a little relief from the never-ending heat. Your journal lays open on your lap, pen tucked inside, the half-finished sketch you were working on forgotten as your mind wanders. You can fool yourself into thinking you came up here for a private place to work on your drawings but your heart knows the real reason you took this vantage point.
In the distance a motorcycle engine hums into existence, the sound carried on the still air, and your head whips up, eyes tracking to the point where the gravel road disappears into the trees. The sound increases steadily, turning to a roar as the bike approaches and a lone walker at the gate turns its attention from watching you to look towards this new source of stimulation.
The bike appears through the trees and you quickly exhale a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. Carl appears and expertly rolls open the outer gate to let Daryl ride through before slamming it closed again, long before the shuffling walker can even focus enough to head in that direction. He quickly locks the chains and half walks, half runs up the slope behind Daryl's bike, the teenager in him fighting between playing it cool and wanting to hear about Daryl's run.
Daryl pulls up to the inner gate, letting the engine idle while Carl catches up to him. He looks briefly up to you, nodding a greeting when your eyes meet and you raise a hand in return, then he turns his attention back to the bike as Carl pushes back the inner gate and he rides in to park next to the odd assortment of vehicles the group seems to keep acquiring.
As he turns off the engine and dismounts, stretching to work out the muscles in his back you can't help but stare, your eyes drinking him in. His dark hair is windblown from his ride, pushed back from his face and he runs a hand through it, messing it up even more. With the summer coming into full heat, he's forsaken the denim jacket he'd been wearing under his vest, favoring instead a simple black shirt with the sleeves torn off and you can see a sheen of sweat glistening on the skin of his arms and in the hollow of his neck.
Your toes curl as you remember the way his skin tasted under your tongue, the heat from his hands as he grabbed at your naked flesh, owning every inch of you. How it felt to have him inside you, filling you, sharing himself with you. You realize your fingers are curled tight in the fabric of your shorts and you release them, blushing furiously as you smooth out the wrinkles you just made. You curb your thoughts, reminding yourself that it was just a one-time thing, an amazing night that hasn't been repeated since.
It's not that you expected him to suddenly become the ideal boyfriend, start holding your hand in the prison yard or move into your cell with you but you kind of hoped for a little more than this. It's been just over three weeks since you had your night of wild animal sex with him in the ranger tower but you had hoped that it was more than just that for him, it certainly was for you. But since you both got back the next day, he's been, not exactly avoiding you, but almost afraid to talk to you, or so it appears.
Sure, you've been polite and passed the time of day and that's okay but part of you was secretly hoping that maybe you'd cracked his shell a little and he'd open up to you even just a tiny bit. But, no. A few times, you've found him staring at you, looking like he's about to speak but the moment always passes and he doesn't follow through. When he had said he was taking the bike out for another recon trip, your heart had flipped a little, hoping he might ask you along but he took off on his own before you or Rick or anyone else could voice an opinion on the matter. He's been gone for three days and, although you won't admit it to yourself, you've been on edge the whole time.
Sighing, you gather up your stuff, tucking your journal safely into your back pocket and taking up your rifle from where it's been leaning next to you against the wall. You climb back down the staircase, thinking about Daryl and deciding to yourself that you just have to let it go, that he's never going to make a move and that maybe you were wrong about the connection you thought you had.
You push open the door at the bottom, turning to close it behind you and someone barrels into you coming from around the corner. Letting out a small shriek, you instinctively push them away from you, your rifle coming up in an instant, finger hot against the trigger.
"Don't shoot!" comes a panicked voice. "It's just me."
You lower the gun, nerves jangling across your body.
"Brad? What the fuck?! I almost blew your fucking head off!"
You look at the guy standing in front of you, his face ashen behind his too-big glasses and you immediately feel sorry for yelling at him. A little older than you, he hasn't been in the camp for long and you're still amazed that he lasted outside on his own for as long as he did. The group he'd been with were wiped out a couple of months back and sheer dumb luck had found him a safe hiding place to wait it out until the walkers moved on. Glenn and Maggie had found him while out on a run and, against Glenn's better judgment, Maggie had insisted on bringing him back with them. As she explained it to you later, he was just like a lost little puppy and she would have never forgiven herself if she'd left him behind.
Footsteps sound behind you, racing in your direction across the concrete yard and suddenly Daryl is between you and Brad, face like thunder, as his eyes scan you from head to toe. You can see him straining to touch you but, even now, he keeps himself in check.
"Heard you screamin'. What's going on?" His voice is low and dangerous and you know you have to diffuse the situation before it gets any worse.
"I'm fine. I wasn't "screaming". I gave an involuntary yell of surprise, that's all."
"Yeah, it was my fault actually. I was coming around the corner too fast and I wasn't paying attention and Lu came out of the door suddenly and…"
Brad trails off as Daryl spins around to face him, glowering at him darkly.
"It's Lucia," he growls and something sparks along your spine at the way your name rolls out of his mouth.
"Yeah… right… sorry. Lucia." Brad grins nervously at you over Daryl's shoulder and you can't help but smile back at him.
"You need to be more careful, it's all too easy for people to get hurt out here."
Brad shrinks back from Daryl's glare a little and you feel a small flutter of anger as you step around Daryl, taking Brad's arm and leading him towards the cell block.
"Come on, I think I know where I can find us a stiff drink. We both had a little shock but no harm done. We'll both be more careful in the future, right? Lesson learned."
You don't need to look behind you to know that Daryl's eyes are fixed on your retreating back, frown lines etched deep in his forehead, mouth turned down in annoyance. You steer Brad into the cell block and, true to your word, you find the bottle of whiskey that Hershel has been saving for medicinal purposes and pour the both of you a shot. Not really your drink of choice, you knock it back, grimacing as the alcohol burns like hell-fire on its way to your stomach. The warm afterglow does relax you a little though and you think you deserve it for the scare you had. Thinking about it now, you realize just how close you came to taking Brad out and you're also painfully reminded of the walker encounter you had a few weeks previously. You start to think of how Daryl came to your rescue that day too but then your mind squashes the thought before it can run to its inevitable end.
You strike up a conversation with Brad, chatting with him until the others start coming in for dinner and then you both help out with prepping the evening meal. You catch sight of Daryl a few times in your peripheral vision but he chooses to sit apart from everyone else and eat alone, leaving the room as soon as he's done.
You spend the next morning hard at work, helping clear the field of rocks and weeds, trying to make the unforgiving surroundings into a viable area for growing food. You head into the yard to take a break and spot Brad sitting at one of the tables. You join him, sighing as you ease your aching body onto the bench next to him. He gives you a half smile.
"How's it going?" you ask.
"Oh, fine… fine." He looks around nervously, licking his lips.
"Are you okay? You look like you're waiting for a walker to bite you in the ass."
You smile, punching him lightly on the shoulder and he flinches like you've hit him for real.
"Brad, what's going on?"
"Nothing… it's just… well, I wouldn't like your boyfriend to see us together and get the wrong idea."
"My what now? Boyfriend?"
"Yeah, the crazy redneck. Told me you were special and if I liked living here, safe and sound, I better watch my step around you."
You can feel your eyes widening in surprise and a creeping anger starts curling its fingers around your gut. Without another word to Brad, you get up and go in search of Daryl, finding him coming out of the cell block with Glenn in tow, carrying supply packs. His face is as stoic and unreadable as always and you keep your expression neutral as you walk up to meet them.
"Going somewhere?" you ask, ignoring Daryl and looking to Glenn.
"Just a quick run. We thought we'd start scouting some of the houses we missed when we were on the move last winter."
"Glenn, do you mind if I go instead? I'm going stir crazy in here and I think some time out is just what I need to stop me going postal on anyone's ass. I nearly took out Brad last night, if you didn't hear."
You force a laugh, which sounds incredibly fake to your own ears and you see the look of confusion flash across Glenn's face. He looks from you to Daryl, who is leaning against the wall studiously examining his boots, then smiles and gives a small shrug, handing you his pack.
"Sure, knock yourself out. Who am I to stand in the way? If it's going to stop you killing the rest of us in our sleep, then by all means, please take a drive. Have fun!"
With that, he turns on his heel and heads back inside. Not looking at Daryl, you throw your pack in the back seat of the car and climb into the passenger seat. After a moment, he opens the driver's door and gets in. Neither of you speak as he starts the car and you leave the prison.
You travel in silence for a good hour, Daryl concentrating on the road and you staring out of the window at the fields and forests passing you by. Finally, without turning to look at him, you start to talk.
"So, I had an interesting conversation with Brad just before we left."
Silence.
"He told me you threatened him, warned him to stay out of my way. Is that true?"
You turn to look at him, his jaw set in a hard line and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He doesn't take his eyes off the road as he answers you.
"The man's a retard, almost got himself shot last night. He's a liability."
"It was an accident… barely even that. Just one of those things. I think you're blowing it way out of proportion."
"And if you'd shot him? What then? I know you kill things all the time, Lucia, but they're already dead, soulless things. How d'ya think you'd feel if you took a man's life, huh, a living, breathing, thinking person? Even if it was an accident."
He slams on the brakes suddenly and the car shudders to a stop as he turns to look at you and you can see the anguish in his eyes.
"It changes you… you have no idea, and I wouldn't wish that on you, not in a million years. Not you, of all people."
His hands stop halfway to reaching for you and, before you can gather your thoughts, or even reply to him, he's opened the door and is out of the car, pacing away into the woods. You quickly pop your seatbelt and scramble out to follow him, catching up with him just inside the tree-line where he's standing, head bowed. He turns at your approach.
"I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have gone after Brad like I did. It's not his fault he's an idiot."
"He's not an idiot, Daryl, he's a really nice guy if you take the time to have a decent conversation with him instead of always being up in his face all the time. Hell, I bet you thought I was an idiot when you first met me too. You just have to give him a chance."
"You? An idiot? Nah. A wet-behind-the-ears city girl, that's for sure but never an idiot."
A small smile crinkles his eyes and your heart does that lurching thing again.
"Well, Brad is just a city boy and if you can learn to tolerate me, I'm sure he'll grow on you too."
Daryl grunts, expressing his thoughts on that idea.
"I just don't like the way he's always creepin' around you, followin' you everywhere like a lost dog."
"I don't think he follows me around," you say, looking puzzled, "I mean, we've talked a few times but nothing…wait… Daryl, are you jealous?!"
"Pffft," he snorts, kicking the toe of his boot in the dirt, "what do I have to be jealous of? That guy? Give me a break. Jealous? I could snap him like a twig!"
"Oh my God… you are. You're jealous of Brad."
"Don't make it mean somethin' it ain't," he scowls, toe digging deeper in the dirt.
You look at him, open-mouthed, trying to wrap your head around this new concept. You knew loving him wasn't going to be easy but you were coming to terms with the fact that it was probably going to be an unrequited love and now he throws you this curve ball. The nugget of anger you felt earlier flares again.
"You know what, Daryl, I don't think it is nothing. I think it's a great big ball of something. I made it perfectly clear how I feel about you and you took that information, fucked me, and then left me alone for the past few weeks. And I let you. I know you have issues, boy do I know, and I didn't want to put any pressure on you but dammit, Daryl, life is too freaking short now for playing games.
This is your chance to be the man you always wanted to be, to let go of the other Daryl you were before. You're not him anymore, you've earned respect and trust and friendship by your actions and now there's someone who loves you unconditionally for all that you have been and all that you are now and you have to make the choice of whether you can handle that love or not."
As you've been talking, you've slowly been getting closer to him until you're just inches apart but he refuses to meet your eyes. You stare at him, long and hard, for a moment before sighing and turning away.
"When you make up your mind, let me know, but don't wait too long. The world's a much smaller place now and I don't want to be alone in it anymore."
You walk slowly back to the car, silently praying for him to stop you, so certain that he's not going to, that you jump when he grabs your arm, spinning you back to face him. His eyes scan your face before he reaches out to pull you to him, one hand coming up to slide behind your neck, the other grabbing at your waist as his lips meet yours in a furious kiss.
You lean into him, your own hands finding their way up under his shirt, as his tongue pushes hard into your mouth, claiming it as his own. He kisses you hard and deep, stealing your breath and forcing you back until your thighs bump against the hood of the car. With nowhere else to go, his entire body is pressed against yours, rubbing and grinding, his hands trying to touch you everywhere at once as his mouth devours you. Just as you're starting to feel dizzy, he breaks off, panting lightly and rests his forehead against yours.
"I choose you, Lucia," he whispers, "I choose you, I choose you, I choose you."
He starts kissing you again, his intensity and his words igniting your passion until you're clawing at his shirt, trying to pull it off him, needing to feel his flesh against yours. A whining sound comes from deep in your throat and he grunts in response, his hands tearing at your shorts, fighting to undo them. When he succeeds, he thrusts a hand inside, pushing past your underwear and through the hair on your mound to slide his rough fingers against your dry clit. He coaxes it for a moment, stopping his kiss to watch your face as he teases it's softness before moving his hand down further to part your lips, dragging your wetness back up to slick over your clit.
You bite on your lip, head slightly tilted back as his fingers work at you, pleased that he remembers the way you like to be touched. You spread your feet apart, giving him more access and he smiles down at you, ducking his head for a quick kiss. As he strokes at your increasing wetness, you grab the edges of your t-shirt pulling it off over your head and quickly following it with your bra. He takes the hint, dipping his head along the line of your throat, teeth grazing your skin until his mouth works its way down to your breast. He licks at your nipple, tongue rolling over and around it until you throw your head back, hands reaching to bury in his hair.
You let your eyes close as the heat from the car and the road rise around you, bathing your skin in a light sweat, enjoying the feel of his lips on you as he moves his attention to your other breast and his fingers still rubbing at your now-swollen clit. He trails his kisses down across your stomach, his long hair tickling at your skin, making you writhe beneath him, as he fingers you harder, thumb now rolling across your clit. Your hips are pushing towards him and you know he's going to make you come soon if you don't stop him.
Gently, you tug on his hair, lifting his head to look at you. His blue eyes are cloudy with lust and he looks at you bemused for a second as you extricate his hand from your panties. His confusion clears as you slip your shorts and underwear down over your thighs and step out of them, standing in nothing but your hiking boots before him. You let him take a good look before raising an eyebrow and cocking your head at him, looking him up and down expectantly. He laughs softly, blushing a little, but quickly pulls off his shirt and unbuckles his pants, letting the worn material slide from his thighs until they pool around his ankles.
The last time he was naked before you, you barely had time to look at him before he was on you, so this time you keep him at arm's length while you let your eyes feast on his body. He blushes harder under your gaze but you don't stop until you're sure you have every line and angle memorized, from his broad shoulders and chest, down to his slim waist and flat stomach, taking note of the scars that map his skin and the spattering of hair that covers his chest and below his navel, your eyes travelling down to where his cock is standing out from a thick thatch of hair.
"Beautiful," you say softly.
You take him in hand, hearing his breath quicken, loving the feel of his weight against your palm, his veins ridging against your skin as your fingers wrap around him, squeezing gently. You stroke his length, rubbing your thumb over his slit on every upwards pull, until his cock is leaking hard and you can feel him trembling under your touch. Suddenly, he grabs your shoulders, making you release your grip as he pushes you back flat against the hood of the car, the hot metal burning a little against your skin.
He pushes between your thighs, cock brushing against your skin as you bring your knees up to let him in. He leans over you, hand grabbing at his cock as he positions it against your entrance and thrusts into you without stopping. Your head bangs against the car hood as he fills you, stretching your walls around him and making your pussy twitch with the sensation. He pounds into you, hard and dirty, hands planted on the car either side of you as his body crushes you beneath him, sweat slicked skin sticking to yours. You bring your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles to keep him from pulling too far out of you, boot heels bouncing against his bare ass.
His mouth seeks out yours and his tongue slides hotly against yours before he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth and then carries on biting his way down your neck to your shoulder. Your eyes shut as his teeth dig into your flesh and his cock rams you from below and you start moaning loudly, getting louder with every thrust until Daryl brings a hand over to clamp hard across your mouth, effectively silencing you. Your eyes flick open to meet his over his hand and you understand immediately, the danger of your situation sending a frisson of excitement down your spine.
He doesn't remove his hand and you can smell the heat and dirt on his skin. You moan against his palm and he presses tighter, pinning you now with his hand and his body as he fucks you mercilessly. Your hands have been wrapped around his waist, feeling his muscles expand and contract as he rides your body but now you run them up his back, over his scarred skin, to dig your nails into his shoulder-blades. He yelps softly, eyes locking with yours as he bares his teeth and pushes into you deeper while you squeeze your flesh around him.
Your orgasm takes you without warning for once and suddenly you're bucking beneath him as your body explodes with pleasure, his cock still buried deep inside you, as your head thuds against the car once more. You let go with a muffled scream against his hand and it's pulled away as he braces himself against the car for the final few thrusts that pull his own climax from him, his hot cum squirting inside you as he closes his eyes in ecstasy, rolling his hips into you until he's done.
He lowers his body against yours, planting hot wet kisses against your skin as his breathing slows back to normal. Your extremities are tingling from the lack of blood as you pull his face to yours to kiss him softly on the lips, the passion replaced with something different, something more intimate. He kisses you back with a tenderness that surprises you and you smile against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Slowly, he pulls you upright, your skin stinging a little as it comes away from the warm metal and his softening cock slides from you leaving a wet sticky trail on your thighs as you unlock your legs from his waist. You part slowly and he steadies you as you lower your feet back to the ground and try to stand on your shaky legs. You cling to him for a moment, enjoying the sensation of his naked body pressed against yours, before he bends to retrieve your clothes, handing them to you with a grin.
You both dress and you watch his eyes scanning your surroundings, back on full alert once again. You feel a twinge of sadness that it has to be that way but, when his eyes meet yours and he smiles, you realize that it doesn't matter, that you're just thankful for the time you do have. You return his smile as you climb back into the car.
The recon of the houses turns out to be a disaster.
Although there are only a few lone walkers wandering around, which Daryl swiftly dispatches with an arrow to their skulls, neither of you can concentrate to search properly. You find yourself bumping against him, "accidently" pushing him against walls to shove your body against his, taking his mouth with yours. He tries to be serious, telling you off at first, that you need to be thorough in your search but after a while he gives in, pushing you against the counter in an abandoned kitchen to make out with you until a noise outside brings his attention back to where you are.
Finally, he says you should give it up and just head back to the prison. You agree, adding that there are so many other trips you can make out here until every house is thoroughly searched. He rolls his eyes at you but slaps your ass as you pass him on your way back out to the car. You load up the few useful things that you did find and then head home.
You arrive just as the sun is disappearing behind the trees and everyone has gathered inside to eat. Grabbing a bowl of food, you sit with Maggie and Glenn, a little surprised when Daryl actually chooses to sit next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat from his body and the touch of his skin against yours when your arms brush together sending delicious sparks along your nerve endings.
He covers your lack of results that afternoon with a story about scouting the area and clearing out walkers while you made a plan for a more organized search of the buildings. Nobody questions you and the conversation shifts to other topics while you sit there relishing the feel of Daryl's thigh pressed warmly against yours.
Before you've finished your meal, he gets up abruptly and says he has something he needs to take care of, then leaves without another word. You watch his back disappear from the room and wonder where he's going. When the meal ends and he still hasn't returned, your mind starts picking at thoughts you'd rather not be having. Has he changed his mind? Is he regretting his decision? You try to concentrate on the conversation around you and tell yourself you're just being silly but a part of you is itching to go look for him.
When the talk finally dwindles and you've helped with the clean-up, you head straight upstairs to your cell, telling yourself that you're not going chasing after him. He knows where you sleep so, if he wants to be with you, he knows where to find you. As you turn into your cell, you stop short as your eyes take in the sight of Daryl's meager belongings placed alongside yours, his winged jacket hanging from the top bedpost and his crossbow nestled safely on the top bunk.
As your brain is processing this information, he leans out from the bottom bunk and holds out a hand to you. Grinning like an idiot but not caring in the slightest, you climb onto the bed with him, snuggling in against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. He rests his chin against the top of your head, his hand stroking the bare skin of your arm. You tilt your head back to look up at him.
"I didn't think you wanted to sleep in a cage?"
He stares at you intensely for a moment before replying.
"It's not a cage if the person inside makes you feel free."