Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
A/N: I've been trying to add to this over the last week, to make it darker, but it just won't go that way. I tend to steer clear of fluff for the most part, but this one just came out… fluffy. I'm going to write something dark and morbid to get the horribly sweet taste out of my mouth. No beta. It is what it is.
Moonlight and Platinum
Chapter 2
"Wait for me by moonlight,
watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight,
though hell should bar the way."
~ Alfred Noyes
The overgrown grass was wet and slick under his boots as he descended the hill to the campsite. With the frigid bite in the air, he knew there would be a thin layer of frost on the ground in the morning, so he made sure to snag an extra blanket from his truck before continuing on to the tent.
He unzipped the flap and stepped inside, depositing his bow and boots at the entrance, close enough to grab quickly, yet far enough to the side that they wouldn't be in the way while he slept.
He pulled off his jacket and vest and dropped them at the end of the bedroll, leaving his long-sleeved fleece shirt to help fight against the cold. After he'd emptied the pockets, his dirty jeans came next; they were replaced by a pair of flannel pants they'd picked up at the start of the fall. He remembered how insistent she'd been that he'd have something to sleep in other than his one pair of ratty jeans. She always worried about little things like that; it was one of the many things he'd come to love about her.
He slid under the blankets, already warm from the body nestled beneath them, and tried his best not to wake her. Despite his best efforts, she shifted and rolled over, snaking an arm beneath his shirt and around his waist as she pressed her face into his neck, sighing sleepily. He shivered as her hand rubbed lazily up his spine, nails dragging softly against his skin. "Mmm…" she mumbled. "You're cold..."
He gave a noncommittal grunt and readjusted the blankets over them both. He lay there for a moment, silently debating with himself if now was the right moment for what he intended.
Just do it ya pussy… he said to himself, knowing that there would never be a truly 'right' moment… not in this world.
"Got somethin' for ya," he said finally.
She tilted her head back so she could see him. Her eyes were curious; Daryl wasn't one for giving gifts. "Yeah? What is it?" She smiled, tucking a lock of his hair back from his eyes.
"Nothin' much. Just somethin' I thought you might like to have… if you want it… If you don't…" He shrugged and looked away.
Her hand squeezed against his hip. "If it's from you, I'll love it. Now show me…" she whispered, playfully poking him in the ribs to help dampen his nervousness.
Taking a deep breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small platinum band, holding it up in front of her face. He watched as her mouth gaped open, and her eyes darted between the ring and his face.
When she didn't say anything, he was instantly bereft; he palmed the ring and dropped his hand to the cot. "I can chuck it if ya don't want it…"
Her hand on his face brought his eyes back to hers. "No! Of course—"She took a deep, shaky breath. "— of course I want it… just… why?"
His brow furrowed, and he exhaled softly as his free hand drifted down to her stomach, rounded slightly with a pregnancy five months gone, the results of one single night of stupid, quiet desperation. Her face grew somber, and she opened her mouth to say something, to tell him that he didn't have to do this for the simple fact that she carried his child.
He beat her to it. "Don't think I'm askin' outta some sorta… obligation, 'cause I ain't."
She smiled tightly and nodded, though he didn't see it. He was still looking down at where his hand lay across her belly.
He sighed heavily. "'S just… we… you an' me… we fit."
He looked at her then, and it stole her breath; she knew that he was waiting on her to contradict him, to argue, yet she also knew that he spoke the absolute truth.
And he knew that she knew it.
When she didn't argue and simply nodded once more, he reached for the matching ring, laying it in his hand next to her smaller one. "I know stuff like this don't mean much anymore…"
She huffed, but he continued over her.
"… that it ain't 'official' or nothin'…" He looked away. "If things were diff'rent…"
"But they're not; this is the way things are, Daryl… and nothin' is gonna change that." She reached out and picked up the larger band, pressing it to her lips before reaching for his left hand. She glanced up, looking to him for confirmation that this was truly what he wanted.
"Yeah," he said, his voice somber. He was frozen, watching as she slid the thick platinum band onto the ring finger of his left hand.
When she was finished, he took her hand in his, waited for her own confirmation of, "Yeah," and then did the same.
They lay that way for a while, him holding her hand, running his fingers over the simple wedding band that he had picked up on a run to town over a month ago, a band that he had no idea whether or not she would accept, and remembered how he had never wanted anything more in his life.
And now he had it.
She broke him from his reverie with a hand to his face. "You're forgetting something."
"'S that?"
"You're supposed to kiss the bride."
He grinned and pressed his lips to hers. It was reverent and slow at first, but soon enough she pushed him to his back and rose over him. They didn't speak… they didn't have to… and soon they were moving together in that age-old dance… unspoken, undefinable… unbreakable.
Call them what you would – friends, lovers, companions, partners... soulmates – it didn't matter. They had each other, and they would survive.
No, he thought, watching moonlight flash against platinum as his hands slid against her warm, bare skin… they wouldn't just survive.
They would beat this world.
They would live.
~ FIN