Chapter II: Wabi-Sabi - the discovery of beauty in imperfection; the acceptance of the cycle of life and death
Rating: T
Word Count: 649

Carol had seen the bad scars on Daryl's back and chest a few times before, but she knew he still was uncomfortable being shirtless. She could imagine the old pain and torment he still felt. He always wore a shirt even when working in the hottest midday heat. Even with the rain drops pattering on the metal roof she could hear his turning away and moving to the door. "I reached Maggie on the walky. They know where we are and that we'll be late or maybe have to stay overnight," Carol said.
She stepped behind Daryl, tracking the dark red lines on his back with her eyes. Carefully she laid a clean button-down shirt around his broad should, feeling him shiver. What she would give to move her palms slowly over his muscles, showing him that the past was past and he survived stronger.
Both starred out of the door inside the increasing storm, smelling the rain on dry earth.

"At least there are no Walkers around." Daryl slipped into the shirt.

"Maybe afraid of water."

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and turned slowly on his heels. He was lost in Carol's cornflower blue eyes. They couldn't fool themselves any longer. The tensions had been growing over the last weeks. They were more than friends. There was a blind understanding. They had teased each other. There was fun and respect.
They were alone and had nothing to do for the first time in months. The air sizzled. Should they shrug it off or take the risk?

"Daryl!" Carol whispered, and reached out for him. Her fingertips followed the heavy scar arcos his chest. She knew she had to make the first step. Daryl gasped for breath but he didn't flinch. They both noted the big improvement.
Carol removed the unbuttoned shirt from Daryl's shoulders. With a soft swush it fell to the ground. To feel his warm skin over his strong muscles made her get weak in the knees.
Daryl reached for Carol's shirt and pulled her closer. They were close, so close. In a quick move the shirt was off. His fingers hovered over the pale stretch marks under her belly button. He knew her many scars of torment weren't visible.
Daryl lifted Carol and carried her to the old couch in the back of the cabin. The green seat cover was worn out but the cushion still comfortable.
It would finally happen. Carol took a deep breath before their lips met. Carefully they explored each other. A quick lick over Daryl's lower lip made him jerk away but moan at the same time. He moved back in for the next kiss but their foreheads bumped together, making them laugh. They were more than rusty. Daryl also didn't know where to place his hands so Carol took them gently and laid them on her bare breasts.

"Oh fuck!"

Carol leaned into the touch, arching her back. It had been so long ago that a man...Ed...touched her. Daryl moved closer to kiss her neck, collarbones and the soft hollow at her throat – spots he had dreamed many nights all alone in his cell – and he wanted to lay down on Carol to feel her everywhere.
Carol couldn't breathe. Ed! Panic rose in a rush up to her throat. Ed! She pressed her hands against Daryl's chest and tried to slip away under his weight.

"Carol!" Daryl gasped alarmed. Her eyes were wide open, full of horror, and her flushed cheeks turned pale. "It's me."

"Sorry, oh sorry." Her heart beating quickly, Carol clung to Daryl.

"This asshole?"

Carol nodded, her face buried at Daryl's neck. He stroked Carol's back. "We don't have to. We can take our time."

"But I want so much."

"Good." They shared a long gaze into each other's eyes.

"You know it's just you and me."

"Yes."

"You're safe."

"Yes."

"Wanna screw around?"

Carol smirked.