Stained Glass
2.
When Beth goes to the motel to look for Daryl the next morning she is a bit disappointed to find that he is already gone. Disappointed but not surprised. In fact Beth finds herself mumbling profane things about the man all the way to her half destroyed house.
She shouldn't be that upset. Daryl wasn't anyone to her, not really. Just some stranger that was sleeping in her house for who knows how long. Not that that affected her in anyway. She didn't own the place until, well.. Yesterday. So it's not that big of a deal that he's up and left- probably off to find some other abandoned house he can sleep in.
She tries to force squatter Daryl Dixon out of her mind as she assesses the damage of her house.
It's not awful. Really, it could be a lot worse. She may or may not need a new roof, and she may or may not need to rebuild the wrap around porch, but it's sweet. It's a cute house with a nice view of the woods and it is even close to Line Creek so Beth can just take a walk to see water.
Yeah, it's a mess and it needs some work but at least it's her mess.
Maybe that isn't an exciting thing to admit.
Beth keeps her flashlight ready as she steps up the front porch (and over the fallen cyan door that she never bothered to put back on the door frame) and steps inside her house.
The smell of mold is slightly less repulsive today, probably because the door was left open, and Beth finds herself thanking the heavens for that.
The floor creaks as she walks over it and she is only slightly worried that it will cave in on her.
She turns the flashlight on and examines the front room.
The most exciting part of this house is that it is huge. The front room alone puts her family farm's house to shame. Beth finds herself smiling at the room, even though the paint is chipping and parts of the ceiling are hanging off (she's sure that's an easy fix) because it's just simply beautiful.
She walks through the front room, careful to avoid the devil chair that continuously stubs her toe, and into the next room over.
She guesses it's the dining room. There is a long table still in place in the center of the room. The walls are dark with wood paneling and a chandelier is hanging from the ceiling in pieces. Most of it, Beth notices, is shattered on the table and onto the floor.
She turns to the next door and finds herself in her kitchen. Her kitchen. Her very own kitchen. She almost squeals in excitement as she walks into the tiled room.
It's a lot cleaner than the rest of the house- actually it's almost liveable. Almost.
The appliances are hanging open and are broken but the floor is a spotless off beige color and the walls are a warm yellow. She smiles wide as she assesses the granite counter tops and the dark wood cabinets.
It perfect. Really. The whole place is just amazing.
Beth looks back around to the back door and her smile widens (if that is possible) as she sees the back yard.
It's as large as the house, maybe even bigger. She can see a small patio and enough space to count as its own property.
She really lucked out on this place.
Just as she thinks that she hears a large crack from above her. She has barely enough time to step back before a good portion of the ceiling is falling down.
Beth coughs and lifts her shirt to hide her face from the smoky debris.
Okay, so maybe she isn't lucky.
Beth waves away as much dust as she can. The ceiling isn't completely missing, just the bottom layer of plaster is now laying on her kitchen floor. That's not that bad. It could be worse.
Beth keeps telling herself that it could be worse as she steps over the fallen debris.
After walking through the whole first floor and then most of the second, Beth decides that she is going to have to hire a professional. She knew that she would have to anyway, but she had hoped that there was some tiny piece of the house that she could fix up on her own. It turns out that the whole place is basically in ruins.
Beth groans loudly as she exits the house, stepping over that God damn cyan door, and into the front yard.
A low rumbling sound fills her ears and gradually gets louder as if it is getting closer to her house. She watches in confusion as a motorcycle comes up the gravel path of her driveway and into view.
Beth was often told that she is perceptive. When she was younger she could always read people, see things that other people couldn't see, and just be generally observant. Now she isn't sure why anyone even allows her to drive her car. She's about as oblivious as a fly. So she doesn't notice that it's Daryl until he is stepping off of the bike and walking towards her.
He lets out a low whistle as he stops beside her and looks at he house.
"Looks almost finished," he teases, "you been workin' at it all day?" He throws a sly smile down to her.
Beth frowns deeply as she looks between him and the bike.
"Aren't you homeless? No offense," she says quickly.
"None taken."
"How do you have motorcycle?" Beth asks looking at the metal contraption in wonder, as if she's never seen a bike before.
Daryl shrugs, "You never asked if I was homeless."
Beth's mouth falls open as she looks up at him, "If you aren't then what the hell were you doing squatting in my house?"
Daryl shrugs, "I got in it with my brother and went hunting. I was just stayin' here while I was out for the weekend. Didn't think a small blonde was gonna buy the place."
"Instead of sleeping in a tent you just break into houses and sleep there?" She asks in disbelief, "that's insane!"
He shrugs, again, "It was rainin'."
Beth decides that Daryl Dixon is the most infuriating man she has ever met.
"So you just come back here to make me look like an idiot then?" She asks throwing her best accusatory side glance at him.
Daryl shakes his head and nods in the direction of the house.
"I think it's fixable," he says, "I just don't think you can do it on your own. 'Sides you'd probably hunt me down and force me to help you if I didn't come back."
Beth feels her cheeks burn at that. She's a bit abrasive sometimes- sometimes meaning all the time, and something about Daryl calling her out on that is a bit embarrassing.
Beth clears her throat and looks away. Her house seems sad as she stares at it. Not that houses have feelings. But if they did this would be a very sad house.
"Well," Beth says, "The kitchen ceiling caved in, the front steps are about to give, there is ivy growing inside the tower on the third floor and I'm pretty sure there is a wild animal in the attic." Beth looks up to Daryl as she finishes speaking.
"Where would you like to start?" She asks.
Daryl scratches his chin in thought.
"I ain't never opposed to catchin' wild animals," he says. He gives Beth a small smirk and she feels her stomach do a wild flip.
Of course she is attracted to the not so homeless squatter she met yesterday. Of course.
She raises her arms towards the house and says, "After you Exterminator Daryl."
"S'not my official title but I'll take it," he jokes as he takes the first steps towards the house.
"Oh, and we should fix this damn door," he says as he passes over the pile of cyan wood on the porch.
"Should burn the damn thing," Beth says under breath.
The first thing she realizes that day, and maybe it's the first thing she's ever really, really realized, is that she is in love with Daryl Dixon's laugh.
