Carol swore she could still feel her lips tingling when she woke up the next morning. She wondered if Daryl's kiss had branded her somehow, if she'd ever feel the same. All she knew was that she needed more, that one soft, brief kiss would never be enough. She hoped it was the same for him.
The house was quiet and still a bit dark, so she knew it must be rather early. Daryl still lay sleeping on the floor next to the couch, close enough for her to reach out and touch his face. She lightly ran her fingertips over his cheekbone and jawline, hoping he wouldn't wake up but unable to resist touching him. He looked so peaceful, and Daryl Dixon rarely looked peaceful. She smiled, hoping their kiss was a part of what gave him that expression. Then she remembered what Daryl had said last night about Merle. He was bitten, and Daryl didn't want to talk about it. It must have been so awful. Had Daryl put him down after the bite? Was Merle already bitten when Daryl found him? Maybe Daryl's look of peace came from finally having a resolution, finally knowing where Merle was and not having to wonder about his fate. She could understand that feeling. As much as Carol missed Sophia, she was definitely more at peace now than when Sophia was lost in the woods and she didn't know what had happened to her.
Carol wished she hadn't pushed Daryl to talk about what happened with Merle, even though she knew he would eventually have to tell her and everyone else. She couldn't help wondering what might have happened if she hadn't brought it up, if she'd simply continued kissing Daryl back and letting him hold her. What was the next step for them? She knew she would probably be the one who had to take that step, even though he had initiated the kiss last night. Once they broke their connection in some way, Carol always had to be the one to pull them back together. She understood that Daryl wasn't great with people, with social connections, but neither was she, at least not with romance. This was a struggle for both of them, but somehow they kept coming back together, so perhaps it was meant to be. She smiled again at that thought, and started lightly stroking his face again. She couldn't help touching him, and she wondered how long she would get away with it before he woke up. Her answer came quickly, when his hand reached up to hold hers and his eyes slowly opened. He turned his head to look at her, saying nothing. He held her gaze for what felt like forever, neither of them speaking or moving, his hand on hers.
"Daryl, are you—oh." T-Dog had come in, unnoticed by either Daryl or Carol. "Sorry," he muttered.
Daryl quickly moved his hand and shot up from the floor. "What do you want?" he asked T-Dog, irritation in his voice.
"Rick asked me to come over and get you." T-Dog glanced at Carol with a curious look on his face. "He wants you to head to the mall with him today, check things out."
"I thought y'all had already been out there a few times," Daryl said, picking up his crossbow.
"We have," said T-Dog, "but you haven't." Daryl just looked at him. Carol knew that it was hard for Daryl to accept how valuable he was to the group, how much they trusted his instincts over anyone else's. The whole group, not just Carol, had felt considerably less secure in his absence for the past few weeks.
After they left, Carol spent some time organizing the supplies Maggie and Glenn had brought back from their last run. She had already cleaned out the cabinets and established a system in the kitchen. She would've given anything for electricity to power the stove so she could cook a proper dinner for the group, but she knew they would have to settle for using the fireplace to heat up whatever cans of food they could find and to cook whatever animals Daryl could find on his hunts. While he was gone, T-Dog and Glenn tried to hunt but they'd only managed to get a couple of squirrels. Carol hoped Daryl could get a deer soon; everyone was in desperate need of some protein. She paused in her work, thinking about just how much everyone depended on Daryl. If he hadn't come back, they would've made it somehow. Everyone would've figured out how to survive, as they always seemed to. But Carol was beginning to think she couldn't survive without him, and not because of his hunting. She closed her eyes and put her fingers to her lips, again reliving the kiss.
"Are you ok?" Maggie had entered the kitchen and was eyeing Carol, amused.
Carol chuckled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"About Daryl?"
"What?"
"Everybody's so glad he's back, but he hasn't told us what happened," Maggie said. "He's probably told you, though, right?"
"Why do you think he would've told me?" Carol looked away, busying herself with stacking soup cans in a cabinet.
"Well, obviously you two are close."
Carol turned to Maggie. "Sort of," she said, trying not to smile.
"There's a story there," Maggie said, grinning, "and I'm gonna get it out of you."
"There's no story," Carol said, chuckling, and went back to her work. She felt completely silly joking around about being close to Daryl. Were they really close? Or did he just need someone to protect? Carol had the impression that he'd pretty much been on his own all his life except for whatever relationship he'd had with Merle, and that seemed utterly toxic. She knew he liked having a place in the group, even if he would never admit it. But the kissing, the holding – was that just another way for him to feel needed? Was she really just the only woman available, and that's all it was? Daryl may be lacking in social skills and refinement, but there was no question that he was an attractive man. She never imagined she'd be kissed or touched by someone so sexy. If the world hadn't gone crazy, would he have even given her a second look? Carol hadn't felt beautiful in a long time, certainly not in the years she was with Ed. Not until Daryl looked at her.
"Somethin' just don't feel right," Daryl was saying as he walked into the living room with Rick later. Carol looked up from her sewing, her heart pounding as soon as she heard his voice. She felt like a silly teenager.
"We cleared the whole place, Daryl," Rick said. "It's safe. For now, anyway. And you saw how much stuff is there – camping supplies, food, clothes. What are the chances of us finding a place like that again?"
"We're fine here," Daryl said. "You wanna go window shoppin' with your woman, you go on ahead. I ain't movin' in there."
Rick set his jaw and stared at Daryl. "I know you're your own man and you'll do what you need to do, but if you're going to stay with this group—"
"Yeah, I get it," said Daryl. "Your way or the highway." He sat down next to Carol and laid his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted, drained. Carol imagined it was more mental exhaustion than physical, the strain of arguing with Rick all day.
"You think about it then," Rick said lamely, then walked out.
"Shit," Daryl muttered.
"What is it about the mall that bothers you?" Carol asked.
He looked up then, noticing how close they were on the couch, and then looked away quickly. "I don't know, it just don't feel right to me. Can't explain it."
She reached toward him and put her hand on his shoulder, noticing that he still flinched slightly whenever someone touched him. Even her. "I trust you. I know Rick's supposed to be the leader here and I trust him too, but I'm not going anywhere that you don't think is safe." He gave a barely perceptible nod, then looked away again.
Carol decided to let him off the hook and talk about something light. "This is your shirt, by the way," she said, indicating the shirt she was sewing.
"What're you doin' to it?"
"I'm sewing the sleeves back on," she said, laughing. "You ripped them off the other day, like you do with all your shirts. Luckily I found the sleeves out on the porch. It's getting colder, Daryl, you might want to keep a few shirts with sleeves. Not that I mind looking at your arms," she couldn't resist adding.
He had dropped his head back again and closed his eyes. She thought she saw a small smile on his lips and she desperately wanted to press her mouth against his. Instead she reached out one fingertip and lightly brushed it over his bottom lip. He flinched again, jerking his hand up to catch hers.
She flushed, looking down. "I'm sorry, I –"
He shook his head. He kept her hand in his and sat up, moving closer to her. With his other hand, he cupped her chin and lifted her face slightly. She was ready for the kiss, was aching for it. When he brushed his lips against hers, she moved closer to him, pressing her body against his. She parted her lips slightly and felt his tongue pushing into her mouth. He released her hand to wrap his arms around her, stroking her back as he deepened the kiss. She heard a slight moan escape his lips, and it was almost too much for her. She moved around to slide into his lap, straddling him as his tongue stroked hers. His hands slid down to grip her hips and pull her closer to him. She pulled away to catch her breath. When she looked down at him, his eyes were half closed and he was panting. She'd never felt so powerful in her life.
"Should we be doing this here?" she asked, smiling.
"Don't know if I can stop," he murmured, pulling her face down to his again.
She kissed him more, reveling in the feeling of his arms around her and his mouth devouring hers, then reluctantly pulled away. "Anyone could come in. Let's wait until everyone's asleep," she whispered, lifting her body away from his. He nodded, and just as they separated, Andrea walked in. Carol wondered if she could sense what had just happened. She wasn't ready for everyone to know yet, and she knew that Daryl would be more comfortable if they kept it between themselves. But she was on fire, and she felt like the flame of her desire was lighting her from within. This wouldn't be a secret for long.
