**A/N: Well we all know how bad I am at keeping one-shots as actual one-shots. Originally I was planning to do a series of scenes from Annette and Hershel's perspectives. I still am, but you can blame Mollie (Schwoozie/bethgreenesgirlgang) for putting this into my head earlier. It's just a few scenes of Beth realizing her feelings for Daryl, and the progression of that. It's set between moments of the original fic.
Despite the fact that he was two years older than her, it was Beth who realized her feelings for Daryl first- or at least, she thought so. She was only twelve years old when she first realized, and it snuck up on her as most things like that tended to. At first it was just little butterfly feelings in her belly whenever they were together, like when he made her laugh, or when he'd tip his head and give her a lopsided little smile. She didn't realize what it was, didn't realize what it meant; because he was Daryl. He was her best friend and he had been pretty much since that day back in first grade when she'd finally decided to share her sandwich with the hungry looking little boy in the corner of the lunch room.
The night she finally realized what she was feeling was the weekend his Dad beat him for the last time. It was far from the most romantic time to realize a thing like that, but maybe it was the intensity of the night that had helped reveal the truth to her. It hadn't come in those frantic aching moments when she'd been tending his wounds and trying her best not to cry at how afraid she was for him.
(Though she had been terribly afraid, and she had ached inside, not at the marks on his back but at the look in his eyes, the way he'd watched her as if he were somehow afraid that she- she!- would judge him for it. She had ached and then she had kissed his cheek and held him as best she could without hurting him and promised that everything would be okay.)
It hadn't come then, but it had come the next morning as the sun was just rising, sending it's first rays through her window and warming her small bedroom. Daryl had been allowed to sleep in her room instead of on the couch, Beth figured because he was so hurt and they were both so afraid. (A year later, her Mama would officially make a rule against them sleeping in the same room, but that hadn't been instituted yet.)
He'd started off on the floor, but as soon as she'd heard her parents voices fade, Beth had coaxed him up onto the bed with her. It hadn't taken much. He was worn out after everything he'd gone through, emotionally drained and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him, and he'd wanted to be close to her just as she had wanted to be near him. He'd fallen asleep facing her, laying above the sheets while she was tucked up underneath them, and that morning she woke up before him. For a few minutes Beth just watched him, her eyes scanning his face and taking in the bruise that purpled over his cheek. Beyond that mark though, he seemed so peaceful, so relaxed and at eased… so different from the scared and pain-stricken boy who had showed up at her door last night.
A lock of his dirty-blond hair fell into his eyes and without thinking she'd reached out and tucked it gently back. The light graze of her fingers against his skin had sent a faint flutter right through her belly, and Beth had sucked in a surprised breath as he opened his eyes. That first meeting of their gazes had the butterflies in her belly doing loop-de-loops.
Out loud, she'd murmured simply, "Morning, Daryl." But on the inside, she'd thought: Oh.
Oh.
Oh dear, I have a crush on Daryl Dixon.
...
For a year and a half she kept it close to her heart. It was the thing she giggled about to herself when she drew his name in the back of her notebook and encircled it in hearts. It was the thing that fluttered in her belly when she watched him from a distance, mesmerized by the sight of him working on the tractor with his hands covered in grease and his hair falling into his face, loving the way he'd smile at her when she hopped down from the hay bale and came over to brush his hair back behind his ears.
(It was the thing no one knew about except Maggie, of course, Maggie with her questions about boys, Maggie with her clever eyes spying the way Beth looked at him, seeing the way her cheeks flushed when she darted her gaze quickly away and said nope, nuh uh, no boys. Maggie and her knowing, pleased smile.)
Her journal had always been filled with mentions of him- Today, Daryl and I caught tadpoles down by the stream, and he let me keep one in a jar, but then later I felt bad and went back to release it and when I told him, he said it was because I was sweet. I thought he was teasing, but he just ducked his head and said 'there ain't nothing wrong with being sweet like you are, Beth'- but now it was also filled with doodles and drawings of hearts and arrows and always his name. Daryl and Beth = (hearts), she scribbled in the margins next to her loopy writing as she lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs up in the air and crossed at the ankles as she toyed with a strand of hair, curling it around her finger with a silly smile on her lips.
She was just drawing it again, this time enclosed in a heart, when she heard Daryl shouting from outside her window. "Beth! C'mon, Beth!" With one last little private smile, Beth closed her journal and slid it under the pillow before clammering out of bed. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her little yellow sundress, she crossed to the window and stuck her head outside. "Daryl Dixon, you'd better have a good reason for shouting up a storm at me!" She sounded annoyed, but there was a grin on her lips as she looked down at him, standing under her window with his crossbow slung over his back and his blue eyes squinting up at her against the sunlight.
Calmly and almost coolly, he asked, "Y' think the fact that your Pa said you can come hunting with me today is a good enough reason?"
She very nearly squealed. "Really?" Beth leaned out the window even further, the summer breeze ruffling her blonde hair and sending strands of it whipping across her face as her finges curled over the worn wood of her window frame. "Daryl you'd better not be lying to me."
"Beth." He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Have I ever lied to you?"
"No." She just smiled, full of that same fluttering feeling all over again. "Never. And you never would." That was why she adored him so much, or at least one of the many, many reasons. But she kept that close as always, tucking it right against her chest along with the doodles of his name and hers and the butterflies that had long since taken up residence there, and to him she just called back, "I'll be right down as soon as I'm changed!"
...
Eventually she began to wonder if he felt the same way she did. He was sixteen now; handsome and lean, but with more growing muscles than any of the boys her age, gorgeous blue eyes, and hair turned golden by the sun. They were in high school, finished with their freshman year and pacing out the summer before their sophomore year. Daryl pretty much lived at their home now, except for the one or two nights a week he went back to his Pa's place. Those nights were the worst, not just because she missed him, though she did. She missed seeing him in his pajamas brushing his teeth in the mirror beside her, missed him teasing her about how many times she brushed her hair, missed waking up and going down to breakfast to see him smiling at her across the table as her Mama lay down a plate full of food for her 'growing boy'. But even more she missed knowing he was safe in bed right down the hall, missed being sure she wouldn't have to skim him for signs that his father had finally forgotten her Daddy's threats and hurt him again.
The nights he stayed, those felt better. Those were right, and in the days that followed those nights they were always together; like all their summers, they were shared. They spent the morning doing chores but the afternoons were theirs and they went hunting, riding, or fishing. Sometimes Daryl worked on the tractor while Beth sat and sang to him or read from whatever book they were currently working through. Right now it was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, which was one of Beth's favorites. They'd been reading the Chronicles of Narnia before that but had stopped when Beth had gotten all worked up over how badly Susan had been treated. Beth had gone off on a tangent about punishing girls just for liking boys or lipstick or nice clothes, and burst out with something like: "I mean you don't think I'm bad when I wear that strawberry lip gloss, or when I put on nylons sometimes with a nice dress, right?"
"Course not," he'd remarked gruffly, wiping his forehead and getting a streak of oil right across it. Beth had smiled, until he'd gone on in an absent-minded voice, "You ain't never seemed much into boys, though." He'd paused, and she'd seen the tips of his ears go pink. "Not that there's anythin' wrong with that."
Of course, Beth had no idea what to say. She had no interest in boys, because she only had an interest in him. Everyone paled in comparison to Daryl; not just his already-rugged good looks but his cleverness and his sense of humor and his sweetness, and the way he knew everything about her and liked her even more for it. No one else could read her like a book, no one else knew all her ticklish spots (and when her squealed 'stop' really meant stop), and no one else but him knew where to find her when she was sad and how to make her smile again. No one came close to Daryl, for her. So the only thing she'd known to do was deflect, raising an eyebrow as she said simply, "Well, you've never seemed much into girls, either."
She didn't know what she'd expected. Protests? More pink ears? Instead he'd looked her in the eyes for just a moment and shrugged, but as he'd gone back to work he'd replied easily, "Well, I don't see much of anythin' interestin' in girls besides you, I reckon." He'd looked up at her, and the faint little smile on his lips had put her butterflies on a rollercoaster. "You just set the bar too high."
It had been the first time Beth had really wondered if he felt the same way she did. It had also been the first time she ached to know for sure. She couldn't bring herself to ask him, but as she lifted the book up again and settled it into her lap, Beth had softly replied, "Well maybe you set the bar too high for me, too, Daryl." Though her eyes had stayed studiously trained on the book in her lap, she'd dimly registered the hint of a smirk on his lips.
...
The day after they had given up on Narnia and switched to A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, they had walked together to their favorite field. They spent half their afternoons there, sometimes riding, sometimes playing games. Most times they liked to just lay in the grass and talk or watch the clouds, or whatever else they felt like.
They were laying together the way they always did; Daryl on his back, with his arms behind his head in a way that stretched out his torso so his shirt inched up, exposing the warm skin of his flat, slightly defined stomach. Beth lay beside him at an angle, her head resting back against his stomach so her hair tickled his skin (at least according to him earlier, when he'd squirmed and laughed).
A few moments ago she'd been singing some soft, sweet tune, but she'd gotten distracted by the perfect daisy she'd seen growing by her feet. Having fetched it, Beth began to twirl it between her fingers until his voice popped into her mind: Don't seem much of anything interesting in girls that aren't you. Maybe you set the bar too high.
Her thoughts raced along the paths those words had begun to build in her mind, rambling roads that curved in and out of memories; his smile, the pink of his ears, the lingering of his hand on her back or hip. Does he like me? Does he not? Was he just being nice? Does he like me, does he likes me, does he…
And then without thinking, she plucked one petal of the flower and whispered: "He loves me." Another, this one falling quickly to the grass. "He loves me not."
"He loves me."
"He loves me not."
"He loves me."
She was whispering the words too quietly for him to fully hear, but apparently just loud enough that he knew she was saying something, anyway.
"What're you doing?" His voice cut in from above her, the words rumbling faintly through his body and making her smile.
She plucked the second to last petal and thought in her mind: He loves me not.
"Nothing." But when she plucked the last petal and let it fall to her stomach- He loves me.- a smile curved wide up Beth's lips. The stem forgotten, she turned and scooted up against his side until her hand rested on his chest and she could lean in and press her lips softly to his cheek.
It was nothing more than she'd given him before but it made every inch of her feel warm, and the faint glimpse she got of his ears all pink where they stuck up through his hair made Beth wonder if she wasn't the only one.
She just smiled and tucked her face against his shoulder, but as her hand brushed down her fingers skimmed the bare skin beneath the hem of his shirt and she felt him tense just briefly beneath her before he sighed. She wondered if he liked it. She wondered if he, too, was thinking about where her hand was, and if he'd like her to slip it under his shirt and brush it up over his chest… or maybe go lower, instead.
She didn't do it, of course. She just lay there with him, content and happy. But she wondered.
...
Just a few months later, they shared their first kiss in that same field. Kiss-dizzy and flush with warmth, Beth hadn't thought to consider how poetic it was. But later, when they were lying back on the grass and her lips were still tingling from his kisses, the poetry of it had hit her and she'd begun to giggle.
The laughter just spilled out of her until he asked her what it was she found so funny and it was only the hint of a pout to his lips that made her stop long enough to get out, "Daisies."
Daryl frowned in confusion. "What?" She burst into giggles again as he reached up to take off his crown, twirling it around his finger as he furrowed his brow at her. "You laughin' at my crown, Greene? You know you made it, right?"
"No, no. I'm not laughing at your crown, I just…" She took it from him and relaxed finally into a gentle smile. "A few months ago we were out here together and I was plucking the petals off a daisy, you remember?"
He frowned for a moment, but then she saw realization dawn in his blue eyes, and he nodded. "Yeah. Asked y' what you were doin' and you wouldn't tell me."
"That's because I was askin' the petals, you know… if you liked me, or not." Seeing his confusion, Beth murmured with flushed cheeks, "You know, you pluck a petal and say 'he loves me' you pluck another and say 'he loves me not'?"
"Oh." Daryl was quiet for a moment, studying her face, his eyes skimming over her flushed cheeks and her slightly-swollen lips until he asked, "So what did your flower say."
Beth just held his gaze for a long moment until a sweet smile curved across her lips and she breathed out. "That you like me." She leaned forward and lifted the crown of daisies to set it on his head. "Guess it was right, huh? And now you're sitting here, wearing a crown of the flowers that first convinced me it might be true."
He chuckled but his gaze never once left hers and his eyes were serious as he murmured, "Really took you a flower to see that, Beth?"
She shrugged, mimicking a gesture of his that had long been worked into her own body vocabulary. "I dunno."
"Well I wish I'd been better at showin' you sooner," Daryl said softly, his hand cupping her cheek and his thumb brushing over the soft apple of it as he murmured, "Cause I reckon I've liked you a long time, Beth."
"How long? How long in this way, I mean?" She reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear, and the gesture made her smile more at the memory. "For me it was just like that. The morning after we told my Daddy-" She didn't have to say more, she knew he'd know exactly what day she meant, "-I woke up and you looked so peaceful and I brushed a bit of your hair out of your eyes, and that was it. I knew."
Daryl just smiled, and gave a slight shrug of his shoulder. "For me it was that first Christmas. The look in your eyes, when y' saw me opening up the first present I'd ever got from Santa. And later, again in the barn… that's when I knew for sure."
"Oh." There was a soft warmth in her eyes now that matched the feeling in her heart, like the sunshine above couldn't compare to the warmth Daryl created in her chest.
He broke the meaningful gaze to reach out and pluck a daisy from nearby, twisting it between his fingers. "So how does that game go again?" He pulled a petal, and dropped it to the ground. "She'll kiss me." He plucked another. "She'll kiss me." Another. "She'll kiss me."
"Daryl!"
"She'll kiss me…"
"Daryl Dixon…"
"She'll-"
And then she was. And as her lips pressed to his, the daisy was forgotten between them, but the sun shining down above fell even shorter of rivaling the warmth that filled every inch of her and wrapped around them both as she got lost in the press of Daryl's lips against her own.
He loves me.
**A/N: Eventually I will definitely do the Annette/Hershel series (probably next), and I will also hopefully do a 'chapter' set after the first one, i.e. college and beyond. No time-table but right now this AU is very loud in my mind, so. Hope you enjoyed!