A/N: Well I'm sorry for the delay, folks. Between my trip and a family illness I haven't had much time to write. In fact, I'm heading to Florida tomorrow until Sunday so it may be a little while between chapters. In light of that, this is a little longer and a little bit fluffier. I figured I would leave you all in a good place before we kick into the drama that will ensue next chapter. As promised, here are the links for the songs. The first is called "My Father's Father" by The Civil Wars and the second is called "Tip of my Tongue" by the same group. Videos and stuff aren't mine, I tried to find the best quality. I know that FF won't let me post links so I'm going to muck with it and you'll be able to figure it out. Promise. Dot=. Slash= / And take out the ( ) and the space. Listed in order.
www dot youtube dot com slash watch (?v=l) CxsHqX_-S8
www dot youtube dot com slash watch (?v=H) -RtrpwIME0
Near the end of the month Beth and Daryl had decided to do an open mic night down in Revere. Rick was coming along to film it so they could submit the video for credit. The first time she had sat down and gone through his song titled "My Father's Father", and played the notes across her fingers hearing his voice, after the last note had fallen she had simply stared at him. The song helped fill in bits of his past in an annoyingly vague manner. Daryl was sitting on the floor leaning back against the arm chair with his guitar across his lap and he busied himself tuning his already tuned guitar. Beth cleared her throat, "Again? If we're gonna do this I want us to do it right." There was a look of gratitude that crossed his face at the distinct lack of discussion on where these words came from. "I have some ideas..." The pair went back and forth for a while and even though Daryl didn't necessarily appreciate having somebody break down his work like this he did have to admit that having a second set of ears was useful, especially ears that heard things differently than his. With Beth's help what would have been a flat and one-dimensional tune was suddenly rich and mournful. When it was time for Beth's song she handed him the papers and his jaw nearly dropped. This was the finished product of the one he'd seen partially written when he had spent the night in her room. Daryl scanned the lyrics and the notes penned, letting the melody run through his fingers and into the maple wood of his guitar.
The bar was packed as Rick, Daryl, and Beth rolled up to the gravel parking lot and found a space. She was nervous; they both were. This was their first performance together in front of an audience. Before tonight it had simply been fun but now things were getting serious. They were creating content together and realizing that they sounded better together than they did apart. Beth put her guitar across her back and Daryl had his over one shoulder as they entered the bar. The word "packed" did not do the place justice; it was crammed wall to wall with people. They had already been signed up and had ended up in the middle of the pack and it looked like they would be waiting for quite a while before they could go up themselves. At least it was limited to one song per act. It should help cut down on the time. Daryl glanced over to see Beth looking a little pale and lost, reaching back to link their fingers together and give her hand a squeeze before he leaned over to talk in her ear. "You got this. You've played in front of people before, you told me 'bout it. This isn't any different. Go find a table, I'll meet you there." For one there was no sarcasm, no names, just a rare moment where Daryl allowed himself to shine through his rough exterior. Beth rolled her shoulders before heading to the side of the venue where there seemed to be one last open table. Rick bumped his friend's shoulder with his own as he passed. "She's really freaking out isn't she?"
"I don't know why. She's done this before." Daryl's obliviousness was showing. The pair sidled up to the bar and waited until the guy had a chance to come around and take their orders.
"But not with you."
Daryl turned to look at his roommate with puzzlement written all over his face. "How is that any different?" Rick shook his head in amazement. He had been appraised of his roommate's drunken appearance at his young friend's room and whatever it was that happened (or hadn't) after. There were no secrets between Daryl and Rick, they were closer than brothers.
"Look, after everything she's done for you, you're seriously telling me you don't see it? At all?"
The cop was pushing his boundaries and Daryl snapped at him. "You clearly figured it out, just fuckin' tell me!" Rick raised an eyebrow at him but was used to his roommate's little outbursts.
"What I'm saying, Daryl, is that she likes you."
His heart clenched. Part of him didn't want to believe it; he'd be setting himself up for major heartache. He'd never been close to anybody in his life without it turning into a disaster and crumbling into ash at his touch. His mother, perhaps, but she'd died when he was young. He hadn't had many friends because he wasn't exactly what you would call sociable. Daryl was a loner through and through. As terrifying as the prospect was he hadn't really had a girlfriend. As a teenager he'd been too much of an outcast and when he'd moved to Boston he hadn't had a job, hadn't had a place...he hadn't had anything at all. Not exactly prime material for boyfriend. When he had moved in with Rick there had been a woman, another student, but not for long; he'd sabotaged himself every step of the way until she couldn't take it anymore and left after barely a month. Since then it had been a small number of one night stands due to his fear of rejection and abandonment even if he told himself it was because he was better off alone. Rick knew this and that must be why he was telling him. Rick was snapping his fingers in Daryl's face.
"Daryl. Look, don't stress it, but I'm just sayin' I think she wrote that song about you. And I think you're an idiot for ignoring it." Rick grabbed his drink and went over to the table leaving Daryl to wait for a second glass of whiskey. Was it true? Was Rick right? Could he be right? Could Daryl be lucky enough to have such a well adjusted woman wanting him in her life? Was he choosing to overlook the fact that maybe his confusing, convoluted feelings might be reciprocated? He shook his head and ran a hand through his scruffy hair. He didn't know what she would ever see him; he was nothing. White trash. A glorified angry redneck who snapped at people that got close. He was angry and violent with words and actions when he felt threatened. Daryl had wanted a home and a life and stability since before he became aware of what it was and what he was missing but he wasn't sure if he deserved it. Not after everything he had done, everything he'd witnessed, everything he'd experienced. He was tainted and rotten and broken, a ghost of a man in an empty shell. How could she not see that he was bad news for her? More importantly was the question of what would he do now. Lungs expanded against his ribcage as he took a deep breath and grabbed the two glasses of whiskey from the dark wood of the bar and headed to the table. The glasses were put down on the table one in front of Beth and one before his own seat, and he nudged her arm.
"Got this for you." He raised an eyebrow as she took a deep drink. "Easy, blondie." The time was racing by and the names on the list dwindled more rapidly than he would have ever have thought possible. They were up next. He brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and caught the slightest tremor in the tips of his fingers. Daryl would never have admitted it but he was nervous. Recording and singing in his apartment was not quite in the same league as performing in front of a very new and very real audience and now his grades were on the line. More than just grades; his entire future was at stake.
The walk to the stage was impossibly long and the time it took to stand up on the stage with the lights and the microphones almost had her dizzy. It didn't make sense. Beth had done this before dozens of times. This was nothing new. So why was she so nervous? It had to be Daryl. It was almost as though this was their first major test in musical compatibility and it was one she couldn't afford to fail. Beth looked at Daryl and he looked back at her with an encouraging smile and a nod before introducing them.
"Hey all. My name is Daryl and this is Beth, and we have something we've been working on for a while. It's called 'My Father's Father'." He was no good in front of a crowd and he could feel that he was drowning as the panic rushed over him like a tide. And then he was thrown a blessed life-line; once again in the form of Beth. Her voice cut through the silence and carried a hint of a chuckle and a slight toss of her golden waves over her shoulder.
"We're actually recording this for a class, so if you like us, clap at the end and help out with our grades?" Beth waved cheekily over to where Rick was standing against the wall with Daryl's phone, her grin so bright that it eclipsed the lights. There was a little bit of a laugh as her fingers started to pick out the notes and weave them into the song. They'd found a rhythm during their practice sessions, weaving their voices together while keeping them apart. Some verses were sung by him and some by her.
I hear something hanging on the wind
I see black smoke up around the bend
I got my ticket
I'm going to go homeThe leaves have changed a time or two
Since the last time the train came through
I got my ticket and I'm going to go homeMy father's father's blood is on the track
A sweet refrain drifts in from the past
I got my ticket and I'm going to go homeThe winding roads that led me here
Burn like coal and dry like tears
So here's my hope
My tired soul
So here's my ticket
I want to go home
Home
Home
Beth would never tell him so to his face but his song said more about him than Daryl would have liked to admit. While they had never discussed the events that had clearly occurred his words and the melancholy notes that hung heavily in the air painted an accurate picture. If nothing else he was homesick; achingly homesick and unable to return home for what was a myriad of reasons. There were burdens back home, guilt, poverty, abuse, memories. Burdens he ran away from, burdens he likely wouldn't take up again willingly, no matter how much he missed his home. Home was here, now, and Daryl needed to burn the last of the south away from his bones and purge his body of the memories. They played together like they had been this doing this their entire lives. The world vanished away and it was just Beth and Daryl and the lights on the stage. When the video was watched later there would be Beth, beaming from ear to ear and Daryl simply staring at her with a wistful expression as they were surrounded by thunderous applause.
The sound of the crowd brought Daryl back into his own mind and he collected his thoughts before grabbing his guitar by the neck and stepping down the stairs at the side. He turned to say something to her as they approached the table and realized there was nobody there to talk to. Beth was still on the stage and the grin was gone and replaced by a small, very nervous smile. "Since I'm already up here they figured I could just go again. This is called 'Tip of my Tongue'." He saw her shoulders roll under the black fabric of her jacket before her fingers began to pluck softly on the strings of her guitar. Her eyes were fixed onto the back of the room as she crooned softly into the microphone.
You're a red string tied to my finger Oh dear, never saw you comin' You own me with whispers like poetry Oh dear, never saw you comin' Oh Oh dear
A little love letter I carry with me
You're sunlight
Smoke rings and cigarettes
Outlines and kisses from silver screens
Oh my
Look what you have done
You're my favorite song
Always on the tip of my tongue
Your mouth is a melody I memorize
Mmm, so sweet
I hear it echo everywhere I go
Day and night
Oh my
Look what you have done
You're my favorite song
Always on the tip of my tongue
The tip of my tongue
Oh dear
Never saw you comin'
Oh my
Look what you have done
You're my favorite song
Always on
Oh, oh
Never saw you comin'
Oh my
Look what you've done
Oh
You're my favorite song
Always on the tip of my tongue
The voice echoing out the speakers was sweet enough to gloss over everything else in the room and when silence finally fell the place exploded with cheers, bangs on the table, whistles. He watched her stand, smile, and skip off the stage. Dimly Daryl felt Rick's hand clap onto his shoulder in a very silent I told you so.
The ride back into Boston was filled with banter between Beth and Rick that seemed to ease the emptiness in both the cabin of the truck and the hollow place in his chest. Neither Daryl nor Beth had felt comfortable putting their guitars in the bed of the truck and so the cab was even more crowded than usual. Beth was pressing into his side with his arm around her shoulder and a blaze of heat where her hand rested on his knee. Even with her welcome warmth against his ribs it was a delight to be let out in front of her dorm and listen to the truck roar down the quiet street with his guitar on the seat. But now...now they were standing in the shadows outside of her building. Alone. Daryl could hear the scuffing of her boots on the concrete and he could smell that undefinably floral perfume she wore that carried through the chill of the night. Blues tracked the white mist that left the soft pink curves of her lips. Their eyes locked and he heard a sharp intake of breath that he might have missed if the night hadn't been so utterly silent. Daryl stepped close, reaching up to brush her blonde locks behind her ear and his thumb traced across her cheekbone. He hesitated and tilted up her chin, his voice shaking and filled with tremors and anxiety. "Beth...I..." God damn it all. The hand not caressing her face came down to rest on her waist over the coat and he stepped even closer before leaning in.
"BETH!" She jumped at the sound of her name as Amy came up the sidewalk. Damn it all. Daryl's hands dropped to his sides as defeat crossed his eyes.
"I'm...gonna go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, kay?" Before he knew what he was doing he kissed her forehead and turned to the night. Everything in his being was screaming at to turn around, to go back to her, to kiss her like he meant it, kiss her well enough to convince her of even giving him a chance. But he was afraid, and fear gets the best of every human being on the planet. He was less than a quarter way down the block when he heard Amy's yelp of pain get cut off by their closing door.
A few days later was the big college holiday. Halloween had fallen on a Saturday this year and Beth had been convinced by some of her girlfriends to come out to a bar downtown; one of them even had an extra costume. So this was how she found herself in a Little Red Riding Hood costume with full makeup that turned her skin to porcelain, heading out onto the green line armed only with her cell phone, a debit card and ID, and her keys. Her blonde locks were tumbling in loose curls past her shoulders and her eyes were adorned with a copper eyeshadow that faded softly into a dark brown. Topping it off was pure red lipstick in a soft matte that helped Beth attain the look of a storybook character, gentle and pale. The line to get in the door was longer than it had any right to be and she found herself texting Daryl to pass the time, taking a good natured ribbing from her friend Amy in the process. The girls were almost as invested in her friendship with the mysterious older musician as she was, especially after Amy had interrupted what she was convinced was going to be a kiss. In true Daryl fashion every time Beth brought it up she encountered radio silence until she changed the topic. Her friends, though, were not letting up. They were curious about him and peppered her with questions she never actually answered. Her lips were curling up at the corners as her thumbs flew. Somehow his rough manner found a way through in his texting, as did his sometimes insufferable attitude.
'you never actually said what you were doing tonight daryl'
'it's halloween blondie what do you think'
'rick made you dress up and dragged you out'
'nailed it where you at anyway'
Beth hesitated, it's not like it would matter anyway, right? Her thumbs tapped away as she shifted her weight from one tall black pump to the other, hesitating before she hit the blue send button on her iPhone screen.
'liquor store'
'no kidding'
'why?'
Once again she encountered silence. It was damnably infuriating. It was also pretty immature, if she was going to be honest with herself. Anything that made him uncomfortable was automatically off-limits. Beth knew he had a difficult past. In fact, that was all she knew. He'd resisted her attempts to encourage conversation and stonewalled anything about how he was currently feeling. It was almost like he was new to all of this, figuring out all of this for the first time with no baseline for how his emotions functioned. She glanced back at her screen to see the little 'typing' symbol, lips pinched in frustration as the symbol vanished and no words appeared. Well that could mean anything, really. Beth's lips ended up in a pout as the line moved forward. It was a ridiculous concept, really, a whole bunch of people lining up outside dressed like idiots so they could go pay to get drunk. Beth wasn't exactly against the bar scene and she had Maggie's old ID with her, thankfully her sister had been in a 'blonde' phase at the time and ended up hating the photo so much she 'lost' her license and went to go get a new one instead. She'd given it to Beth partially as a joke. There wasn't a whole lot of resemblance between them but sometimes it was close enough to make the cut. Tonight it worked and the group of girls managed to get inside the dark building. Clubs had this innate ability to muffle all sound except the music and make the air thick and immovable. This place was no different. It always packed in here given that it was one of the "it" places in the city and it was a weekend in a city filled with college students. Beth made her way to the bar with her friend Amy, leaning casually against the wood with her hip and waiting for the bartender. Amy's eyes widened as she saw something over Beth's shoulder and leaned in under the hood of Beth's red 'cloak'. "You're never gonna believe this but Daryl just showed up. I don't think he's seen you yet." Beth started to turn but Amy grabbed her hand to stop her. "He knows your here, right?" Beth wasn't putting the dots together.
"Well yeah, but what does that have to do with it?"
"He's looking for you, dumb ass." Amy smacked her upside the head. "Let him find you. We had this talk today remember? About how your mom's-" Beth sighed.
"I don't want to talk about that, Amy. Especially not here. I just want to forget about it."
Amy nodded her head. "Then we'll forget about it. Properly. Let him come find you, we're taking shots." By the time the blondes had run up a tab and at least four shots of tequila each Beth had forgotten that Daryl was on the same block, much less in the same room. The music was loud and reverberating through her bones as she and Amy danced away and let go of everything. The petticoat swayed with her hips and her hair was tossed over her shoulder carelessly as she danced with her friend.
This was a yearly ritual. There were several holidays in which he was required to participate, among them being Halloween, Saint Patrick's Day, and every three day weekend in the calendar. Daryl did manage to change up his costume every year but he was fairly low-budget to begin with. This year he got away with a pair of dollar-store clip-on wolf ears and a tail paired with a partially unbuttoned black dress shirt unbuttoned with sleeves rolled up to his elbows over a pair of dark jeans; there was a dress code after all. Usually he just hung out in the corner until Rick found somebody he wanted to dance with. At some point he would start drinking and find somebody to dance with near the very end the night, just long enough to get his social requirement to Rick fully completed. This year, though, was different. Beth was somewhere in this building and that changed...everything. This was no longer a social obligation and now it was a game of 'find his blonde'. It was complicated, sure, because there were a hell of a lot of blondes in the place tonight. There was also no way of telling how far back in line she had been or what she was wearing. It would serve him well to wait and watch from the corner with glass of whiskey in his hand and a flask in his back pocket (he was cheap and this shit was expensive). Daryl watched the scene, scanning across the crowd. Nothing. Maybe he just needed a different vantage point. He shifted through the crowd from one corner to the other, passing a girl dressed like Tinkerbell and her hooded counterpart. He stopped. Something about Tinkerbell was damn familiar; he had seen her before. They locked eyes and he knew. She was one of the faces frequently featured on Beth's wall... he'd heard of her before. Amy. She was also from Georgia, if he called correctly, and had a sister who was a civil rights lawyer. She was the one who had interrupted him the other night as he had attempted to kiss his little musician, which meant that Beth wasn't going to be far behind. He took a good long look at little Red but he couldn't figure out enough. It could have been her because the legs looked familiar but with the hood up there was no way to know for sure. He melted back into the shadows of the edge of the room and regretted the motion when the pair at the bar starting drinking. Daryl's own glass was empty and he turned to balance the glass on the edge of a table and hide the flask as he refilled it again and again. He decided to buy some time, lurking on the edge of the crowd and just looking over the mass of people in front of him. He could see Rick and some willowy brunette dancing near the edge. He checked his watch; more than an hour and a half had passed since Beth had entered the bar. She had come with her friends looking for a good time and he was inclined to let her have it before interrupting. The group of girls hadn't even made it in until after eleven, but now it was late enough that he didn't feel guilty stealing her from her friends. There was a flash of red out in the middle of the dance floor and he could see her; the hood was down and he would get flashes of her face as she danced and moved her body effortlessly with the music. There was nothing better than watching a musician dance; it was truly art in motion. They had such intimate knowledge with how music worked and motion to music was just an instinct buried deep in the construction of their brains. Scratch that. The only thing better than watching her dance would be dancing with her himself. He'd danced with women before, this wasn't anything new and yet here he was scared in the corner like that lost and lonely teenager he used to be.
No.
He was surprised at how forcefully the thought had crossed his brain. He wasn't that person anymore. Daryl squared his shoulders and took a long swig of the flask before capping it off again and putting it back in his pocket. He was a coward but this was a party and he was allowed to dance with a pretty girl if he wanted to. There was nobody here to tell him otherwise. There was no Merle in his life anymore. His father was dead. He shouldn't be terrified. His heart shouldn't be pounding in his ears, his hands shouldn't be shaking, and he certainly shouldn't be stumbling on his way over to her. Daryl paused as he threaded his way through the crowd to take a deep breath and sidle up to her.
"Fancy meetin' you here, blondie. Or should I call you Red?" For her part Beth looked flawless, her makeup making those blue eyes of hers pop out at him even in the dark. The under bust corset type structure of her costume was doing excellent things for her figure and he found himself caught in a very long once-over. It was apparently mutual and one of her fingers came up to tweak at the ear pinned in his hair.
"Daryl. Or should I just call you Wolfie?" Damn. She'd had an opportunity to come up with something amazing and she'd blown it. She could see Amy slipping away to join their other friends out of the corner of her eye, leaving Beth along with Daryl. The blonde moved into the space her friend had vacated and drew Daryl in after her with a smile. "Dance with me, Daryl!" She didn't give him too much of a say in the matter and threaded her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her body. At this distance (or lack thereof) she could smell the freshness of his skin and whatever he used as a soap. They were both tipsy and his hands had started at her waist but dropped low onto her hips before closing the remaining distance between them. Beth's mind was racing behind the tequila because Amy had been right (she usually was). Beth needed to go after what she wanted because life was short and fuck everything else. She was so busy worrying about being the good daughter, the good friend, the good student, the good sister, that she wasn't even living her life to the fullest anymore. What use was having an opportunity open up in your life if you weren't willing to take it? Daryl wasn't here by accident. Her friends had not chosen this place by accident. It wasn't anything as drastic as fate and cosmic alliance but it gave her courage knowing that maybe, just maybe, this was where she was supposed to be. Here in this moment with him. Beth's breathing was shallow from more from nerves than by dancing. She could feel him waiting and the southern girl was on fire. Every cell in her body was responding to him and the tingles where his breath met her skin was enough to make her heart race. Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was simply that she'd had her world shaken and needed to reconnect with something. Maybe it was both. Whatever the reason was she found herself looking up into his blue eyes under the fringe of his dark bangs and made a decision that would change the rest of her life.
Daryl was drowning in her. Her hips were moving liquidly under his hands as their hips pressed together and his face was blazing with her cheek resting against his. He could feel the flutter of her lashes against his cheekbone and was rewarded with a small sound as he drew her closer and pressed her against his chest. He saw her pull back with hesitation on her face. Hesitation turned into resolve and as he locked eyes with hers and barely inches away from each other, it happened. She leaned forward as one hand moved to cup his face before sliding to rest at the intersection of his jawline and his neck, and then her lips met his with gentle pressure. Relief washed over him in the form of a sweet, simple meeting of lips, soft and quiet and sweet. Relief that he didn't have to make the first move. Relief and joy at her confirmation of her feelings for him. Relief that he didn't have to be afraid of her, of offending her, of pressuring her. She didn't pull back from him, either. Beth rested her forehead against his with her eyes closed, barely breathing at all as though if she were to change something about this moment it would vanish from them forever.
"I won't say I'm sorry, Daryl. I won't because I don't regret it." Now she did pull back, anxiously searching his face for any sign of what he was feeling but she said no more. She had spoken her piece and acted on her heart and now would be the moment to know if her boldness paid off. She was watching, watching, watching. Relief and comfort...something else, something she didn't recognize, was etched across his face. Tension built. They were standing still among a crowd of moving people, an isolated eddy of stillness in the massive moving sea of people around them. Daryl's hands came up to cradle her face, to pull her close into a second kiss. Where the first one had been gentle and tender, an expression of hesitant hearts, the second was strong and sharp, need and desire mixed together as he kissed her with a ferocity she knew he had possessed somewhere deep inside. Suddenly they were clinging to each other desperately with the strength of people who needed affirmation that somewhere, somebody in the world cared about them. Time seemed to slow as they pulled apart for the second time. Beth leaned in against his ear, the proximity making him shiver.
"C'mon...let's go somewhere quiet?" Her fingers linked with his and the strength of her grip surprised him. It was almost as though she was afraid to let him go, that if she did he would vanish and never reappear again. Daryl nodded his silent assent and threaded their way through the crowd and towards the door, picking up his coat from the check on the way. Once they were outside it was a whole other world, just traffic and street lights and people walking from once place to another, ignoring the muffled music pouring from the building. She could see him heave a sigh of relief as they left the bar and emerged back into the city with their hands clasped tight between them. They found their way to the corner of the building and she paused, the sharpness of the night starting to sink past the flimsy cloth of her costume and making her shiver.
He could feel the tremor that wracked her body carry down into her hand and then into his. Daryl managed to maneuver his beat up old leather jacket over her shoulders, using the motion to draw her into the shadows of the building and pull her close. If Daryl was going to be truthful with himself he could have stood here on this corner and stolen kisses from her forever. Beth was pressed against him and his arms had wrapped over her leather-clad shoulders while hers had stolen around his waist.
"So."
It was Beth who had broken the silence between them with a smile on her lips and in her voice. "Clearly you aren't pissed at me. Care to let in that head of yours for once?" It was a risk, she knew that, but she was feeling better than she had in days and somehow the blonde knew luck was on her side tonight.
"It's...complicated. I ain't been able to do much of this stuff. Romantic stuff, I mean." Daryl's voice broke off into a mumble but she remained quiet, allowing him time to pull his thoughts together, content to just stand with his arms around her and laying kisses on his jaw.
"We have all the time in the world, Daryl. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me or anything." Beth stole another kiss from him, not giving him a chance to dwell. Instead she tried to vanish all space between them, fusing their molecules together by sheer force of will. She kissed him as though it was the only thing that mattered, the way their tongues met and the way he opened up. He may not have been good with words but Daryl was a man of action and he communicated as such. She found herself pressed against the wall of the bar with his hands incapable of staying still. They tangled themselves in her hair, stroked along her sides and up under the curve of her breast, dropping down to her hips. By the time his lips focused on her neck she was breathless and dizzy and clinging to him under an onslaught of sensory input. She'd been kissed, of course. She hadn't exactly come to college as a virgin but nobody had ever kissed her like this. As though she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. As though she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Daryl nipped at her earlobe, his voice a quiet mumble as his hands stilled on her hips.
"I like you, Beth. I like whatever it is we got goin' on. I just don't know how..." His voice choked off and suddenly she was soothing him, stroking his hair.
"That's it. That's all I need for now, Daryl. That's all I gotta know." Beth cradled his face in her hands. "Besides, you owe me breakfast, remember?" She felt him leaning his head into her hands, laying a kiss against the inside of her wrist.
A palpable relief washed over him and he sank into her arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She understood. She wasn't asking for anything he couldn't give. Beth was accepting him with his faults, giving him time to sort out his complex emotions and offering him kindness and care and stability while he figured everything out. She was willing to wait on him, to allow whatever it was between them to grow at it's own pace. He didn't know what he had done to deserve this, to deserve her, to have a partner who thought of others before she thought of herself. He may not have deserved this; she was too good for him but he was going to make sure that he was worthy of her from now until she left him. Daryl realized, pressed against her neck and inhaling her scent with her fingers stroking across his hair, that he would never leave her of his own will. His voice was a rough mumble into her ear. "I'll call us a cab and text Rick. You should let Amy know."
Beth tipped his head up and lay another kiss on his lips. "Somehow I think she already knows."
