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Daryl didn't get up until mid-afternoon the next day. The trailer was empty which meant one of two things. Either Merle had left very early or the much more likely he hadn't come in at all. His father had been on a bender with some waitress all week.
He poured a bowl of cereal and sat on the old couch in front of the TV, chewing. He enjoyed having no one around to tell him what to do. He wasn't looking forward to the day his father came back. He usually hid out in the woods, sleeping there, depending on the old mans mood.
He knew it was stupid to be looking forward to seeing Paige again but he couldn't help himself. He liked talking to her. It was easy. He thought about what Merle would think of that and flinched.
He spent the afternoon watching TV and keeping an eye and an ear out for Merle or his old man. But the day went by peacefully, to his relief. Still, he left the trailer early just in case, walking the familiar path to the woods.
He didn't go directly to the place he'd been yesterday, not wanting to be too early and also not entirely sure she'd even turn up. He started to convince himself she wasn't going to come at all. He imagined her sitting around laughing at him and found himself growing angry. He stomped along the worn trail, grumbling and then veered suddenly off the trail and into the trees. The more he walked, the more wound up he became and when he found that he'd unthinkingly made his way to the stream he felt ready to punch something.
It was as he was clenching his fists, ready to take out his anger on a tree or something that he heard it. Soft music was playing, echoing through the trees. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, only that it was upstream. He hesitated for a second before following the sound.
As he walked he felt his anger seep away listening to the notes. The music was strange and he couldn't quite put a name on it. It was soft and sweet but also hauntingly sad. He also found that it was getting louder the farther he walked.
Eventually, he found the source of the sound.
Paige was leaning against the same tree he'd hit his head off the day before. She didn't notice him, concentrating instead on the guitar in her lap and her pale fingers picking out the chords. She was wearing shorts again, a t-shirt with writing on it and, he grinned as he saw she was still wearing her trademark Docs and stripy tights. She wore around thirty assorted bracelets on one arm and one, fingerless glove on the other.
She looked up as he came into her sight. The song trailed off as she grinned.
"Hey" she said, placing the instrument carefully against the tree. "I thought you'd stood me up."
He sat down beside her quickly and glanced again at her t-shirt. He laughed and she grinned with him, spreading her arms wide to show the red writing against the black background. The words "Don't Eat My Brains" was set above a picture of a zombie with pointed teeth and dripping blood.
"That's nice. I bet you scare kids in the street with that."
She shrugged.
"Irish schools are very into uniforms" she informed him. "I'm just taking advantage of this opportunity. And anyway, it pisses my mum off so…" she trailed off.
"I feel sorry for your mom" he laughed.
"Yeah right" she snorted. "If it were up to her I'd be wearing a whole load of pink crap" She shuddered at the thought and he laughed again.
"Your mom into all that stuff then?"
She nodded. "Uh-huh. Anything overly girly and my mums into it. She hates my clothes, my hair, the books I read, the music I listen to."
"Yeah. Heard ya' playin'. S'good" he said awkwardly. He wasn't used to talking about stuff like that, even if it was true.
"That's what she thinks I'm doing now. I told her I joined the school band and that we have rehearsals today" She rolled her eyes. "So long as she doesn't insist on coming to one of their performances, I should be fine."
"You ever done anything like that? Ya know, playing in front of people and stuff" he asked.
"Naw" She shook her head. "You might have guessed, I don't really fit in with people that well."
They stared at each other for another second and then burst into laughter at the idea of her playing hymns in the school band.
"So, Ireland? What's it like there?" he asked when they'd stifled their fits of laughter.
"Rainy" she informed him with a smile. "Beautiful, though" she said more seriously. "Everyone says so. Loads of green fields and animals. I mean, don't get me wrong." She laughed. "Much as you might think, it's not all farms and stone cottages. There are cities and all the modern stuff you get here. But, that's the thing. You can be in the city and then, after a ten-fifteen minute drive, be surrounded by fields. It's cool." She had a distant look on her face.
"You miss it?" he asked. She looked at him.
"Yeah, of course. But-" She batted her eyelashes at him. "America's got it's advantages too."
He shoved her playfully in the shoulder and she shoved him back. He poked her and she poked him back in the stomach. Seeing him move away, a look of realization came over her face.
"Daryl Dixon, are you ticklish?" she asked delightedly.
He scrambled to his feet and backed away, hands up.
"No. You stay away from me, girly." He warned.
"Don't you call me girly, Boo" she said as she stalked towards him. He backed farther away as she got closer."
"Hey, I keep telling you, don't call me B-" He was cut off when she leapt at him suddenly.
They fell to the ground and she started tickling him mercilessly. After a few seconds he came to his senses and started tickling her back. She squealed and giggled uncontrollably.
After a while, they stopped, exhausted.
"Truce" she gasped holding out a hand.
He stared at her for a second, red-faced and shaking with laughter.
Grabbing her hand, he grinned.
"Truce" he agreed.
Opinions are wanted so, please leave me a review. They make my day! Hope everyone is still enjoying this story. I've had all good responses so far, so… Thanks for that! I'm pretty sure that Daryl is around 15-16 in this story but don't hold me to that as I haven't completely decided yet and I have a tendency to change my mind… a lot!
JAGWALFF
