Chapter 7 -

The knocking on the door came to Daryl in a dream. It got progressively louder as he fought his way out of sleep. Harley was still laying between his legs, her head on his chest, fast asleep. He moved off the couch trying his best not to disturb her and went to open the door.

Rick and Jesus stood on the other side, both looked tired.

"Hey, can we come in?" Rick asked, looking around.

Daryl rubbed sleep out his eyes. "Uh, yeah, I guess. We have to go to the kitchen and keep quiet, Harley's asleep on the couch."

They leaned against the kitchen counters, Daryl still half asleep.

"We met with Ezekiel," Rick began. "He's the leader of a group called the Kingdom and they're willing to fight with us. We're gonna take a group out there, I was thinking after Negan comes to collect in a few days. We need to assess these guys, get a sense of what they can do and if possible, provide some basic training. We'll be gone about two nights. Three at the most."

Daryl nodded, darting his eyes between Rick and Jesus. This was happening. They were building an army to take on Negan.

"What kind of setup they got?"

Rick shook his head, "it's uh, it's interesting. Like nothing you'd expect. They're in a high school and it's secure. They look to have a good amount of able bodied people."

"Okay, so who's going?"

"We're taking Sasha, Abraham, Michonne, Rosita and you. We'll leave Heath, Tara and Father Gabriel to coordinate security here while we're gone. I may also leave Carl. I'll see."

"Harley can stay too, to keep watch," Daryl said, not really wanting to leave her so long but she was capable, even without a gun.

"No," Rick said quickly.

"You don't trust her?" Daryl glared at Rick, ready to fight him on this.

"Truth be told, I still don't really feel comfortable with her, but Rosita said she did a good job today. Mostly though I want her to train the Kingdom men with archery. They have the equipment but Ezekiel says they never really used it. You think she'd be good with that?"

"Yeah, she'll do it."

"Will she fight with us?"

"I can't say. I know she'll protect Alexandria and the people inside, but to go out and fight," Daryl shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't even sure if he wanted her out there fighting. "What about the Hilltop?"

"I'm going to see who I can convince to fight with us. It won't be much. Maybe as little as fifteen." Jesus answered. "When I get them together we'll meet you at the Kingdom."

Rick began running his hand through his hair. "I think I should tell Abraham what's going on. He seems ready to blow, wouldn't do for him to rage out on Negan when he comes to collect."

Daryl nodded, "yeah, seems good. Can't believe he's held on this long to be honest."

Rick didn't say anything. He and Jesus kept passing glances at each other before Jesus finally nodded his head in Daryl's direction. Rick walked close to Daryl, a worried look on his face. "I have to tell you something:"

Daryl stared at Rick, at the sweat starting to form on Rick's forehead, his eyes darting all over Daryl's face. Daryl couldn't think what Rick would want to tell him that would make him so nervous. "Tell me."

Rick took a deep breath and exchanged a look with Jesus. "We have an ally from the Saviors. He came to the Kingdom with an offer and is helping us with intel."

Daryl scowled. Rick didn't need to continue, he already knew who it was. He clenched his fist against the counter. "Dwight."

Rick nodded. "He wants this to end as much as we do."

"FUCKING DWIGHT," Daryl was screaming before he realised. "Are you fucking serious. He should be dead. FUCKING DEAD."

"I know, it's not..." Rick began.

"He gonna be there when we go?" Daryl's breathing became heavy. He wouldn't let go of the counter. If he did he was certain he would beat the shit out of both Rick and Jesus.

"No," Jesus said. "He'll feed info to Ezekiel and work to sabotage Negan from the inside."

"Why? Why is he helping us?" Daryl could only speak through clenched teeth.

"That woman you met him with was Dwight's wife. Negan takes women he likes for his own," Jesus said as Rick looked on, worried. "When they left, Negan saw it as Dwight stealing and as punishment for both leaving and taking his wife, Negan put an iron to his face."

"Good," Daryl said. "I'm gonna take a fucking hatchet to his face next. Even up the sides"

"I don't like it anymore than you do, but sometimes you have to..." Rick looked past Daryl, not finishing his sentence.

Daryl turned around and saw Harley watching them from the staircase. He must have woken her up with his yelling. He turned back to Rick, "Go on, tell me."

Rick looked between Harley and Daryl, not wanting to go on.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Harley spoke up. "He's telling you you need to put aside your hatred for one to take out the other. Negan is the greater threat. Dwight is personal and killing him doesn't make you safe."

Daryl's eyes flashed anger her. "You're taking sides with a man who don't even want you here," Daryl spat at her.

She glanced at Rick before turning back to Daryl. She moved to the kitchen counter behind him and sat on a stool. "I know Dwight took away something from within you. You no longer trust your own judgement. You no longer feel good about helping others."

Daryl face contorted into a look heavy with contempt. Harley held firm and continued on. "If this guy can make it go easier, lets you know Negan's weakness, helps you take out his people, you're going to have to let them work with him. When this is all over, put an arrow in him and be done with it. Until then, you need to keep to the plan and the plan is kill Negan and take out the Saviors."

He was furious. She knew he felt like she was betraying him but she had to tell him the truth. Daryl was being emotional not logical. His emotions would make this fight harder than it already was. She would explain it to him when the others left but for now she would just sit in his disappointment for her.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Rick said. Jesus nodded in agreement.

Daryl glared at her, his chest heaving up and down. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side," she told him calmly. "Being on your side sometimes means I tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear."

Daryl slammed his fist on the counter making her jump and marched angrily out the room and up the stairs. Harley rubbed her head, weary at the thought of having to get him not to hate her.

She looked at Rick and Jesus. "I'll talk to him."

Rick nodded and they began to leave. Rick turned back to her, "thank you," he told her.

Harley nodded at him and watched them go.


Daryl fumed as he sat on the edge of the bed. Harley's words played in his head. Work with Dwight? The man who killed Denise, took Eugene, demanded entry into Alexandria to take what he wanted, who he wanted?

Negan is the greater threat. She was right about that. These men worked on Negan's orders. He could kill Dwight and another one would be there to take his place. He wouldn't have to face Dwight, speak to him, fight next to him.

He lay back running it all through his head. She told him her honest feeling knowing it would infuriate him. Maybe even cause him to change his feelings for her. It didn't. He felt more strongly now than before. She was straightforward and truthful. Unafraid. He needed time to calm down, get his feelings together, remember what the bigger picture was then he'd go to her, apologize for his outburst.

Harley leaned over the railing of the balcony staring into the darkness beyond the wall smoking a cigarette, trying to work out how she would talk to Daryl when a light from inside came on and he walked out to join her.

He stood facing her, his waist pressing in the the bar on the railing. He lit his own cigarette and stuffed his other hand into his pocket to stop himself from touching her.

"I know it's hard," she began. "I know you regret not killing him when you first met him, feel foolish for helping him but you shouldn't. Never regret being good. Not being heartless."

"Sometimes you gotta be heartless. I helped him and he tried to kill me in return. That's the most fucking heartless thing you can do. He's a coward and when this is over he'll get what's coming to him. Imma make sure of that."

Harley turned to him and nodded.

"You're right though," Daryl blew smoke out, "Negan is the head of the snake. Without Dwight we could end up getting a lot of our people killed unnecessarily. I don't like it but I can live with it. For now."

"I was worried I'd have to make my way back out there."

"Never. I respect you for telling me what you did. I was really pissed though."

"You were. " She smiled faintly before stubbing her cigarette out and turning back to the darkness beyond.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, taking a draw off his cigarette.

"Strange."

"Good strange, bad strange?"

"Different strange."

"I get that. Lately I haven't been myself." Especially since I met you. He stared at her neck, wanting to kiss her there.

"Me either. I find myself doing things I would never do."

"Like trusting me?"

She turned to lean her back against the rail and looked up at him. "Among other things."

He removed his hand from his pocket. "Other things? Like what I did yesterday? Or at the farmhouse?"

Her skin pricked at his words. She had played those scenes over in her mind throughout the day, getting rushes of excitement remembering. She knew he wasn't the type to become intimate with someone. Even with his group he didn't say more than what had to be said. He kept them at a distance.

"Yes," she answered him quietly.

He nodded. "It was wrong."

"No. It was nice."

He stroked her arm with a finger. He didn't know what it was. He wasn't this man who casually touched and kissed women. He thought back to the woman Merle had pushed on him in a bar months before the outbreak. They were in the dark, her bent over, him drunk. He didn't like it. He didn't like her. He had been fine alone and had stayed alone. Yet here he was with this woman he barely knew, who made him want to give his everything to her.

She turned to him and stepped closer. She needed to make contact. To feel the warmth of another person. To be connected. Her arms circled around his waist and he held her to him.

She felt good in his arms. Warm and secure. Their arms tightened around each other and they held together for long while, neither wanting to let go. Both wanting to get lost in it. To be a part of something, someone.

Daryl pulled free first, holding on to her upper arms. He looked down on her, into her gentle doe eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the soft lips of her downturned mouth.

Her entire body tingled and softened at the touch of his lips to hers. She fell into his kiss. Gentle and slow and sweet. The only sound was the soft smacking of their lips as they made contact and the quiet moans their kissing elicited.

He pulled back and took her hand and led her off the balcony, past the kitchen and dining room and up the stairs.

She would follow him wherever he took her. Do whatever he wanted. She was done being in control. Tonight she was at his mercy and she felt no fear in that.

They walked into the bedroom and Daryl pulled the top sheet back on the bed. Harley stepped silently out of her pants and got in. He took off his pants and shirt and stood naked in the darkness. His heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't planning on making love to her but if it came to that he would without hesitation. He just wanted to be close to her.

He got into the bed next to her and scooted close to her. He felt her warm naked legs next to him. He kissed her lightly again and stroked her face.

"I just want to hold you tonight," he said. "And fall asleep with you in my arms. Nothing more."

She nodded. "Okay." She turned on her side, her back to him and he put his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes and for the first time in a long time he didn't dread going to sleep.


It was still dark outside when Daryl awoke, Harley's bottom pressed against his lower abdomen, the back of her thigh against his penis. He moved closer to her, feeling her body rise and fall with her soft breaths. Wrapping his arm around her waist he pushed his face into the back of her neck. Laying with her was the most intimate thing he had ever done.

She grabbed his hand and held it tight to her, "good morning," she mumbled.

"Morning," he spoke into her neck, feeling a jolt, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

Harley could feel him stiffening against her legs and it made her uneasy. Last night she would have let him touch her anywhere, spread her legs and enter her, but this morning it had changed. The way she felt drawn to him, the way she wanted to always be wrapped in his embrace didn't seem right. She didn't know him but wanted to give so much of herself to him, do for him, protect him and it scared her.

"Are you hungry?" He asked and she nodded her head. "What would you like?"

"Eggs, bacon, some toast with butter and blueberry jam, a cup of coffee."

He smiled and found himself kissing her neck. "How about some apple sauce and water?"

She didn't answer, she bit her bottom lip trying not to moan as he brushed his lips against her skin, sending chills through her, making her want to turn to him and slip her leg around his waist and pull him into her.

A soft sigh escaped her mouth and Daryl's semi erection became full. He untangled himself from her and rolled on his back, suddenly on edge. He got out of bed and put his pants on and went to the kitchen. He came back to find the lamp next to the bed on and Harley sitting up. He sat next to her and handed her a glass of water and a jar of applesauce with a spoon. She drank down half the water and handed it back to him to place on the nightstand and began eating.

"Did you have a lot of girls before?" Her soft eyes fell on him, her look guarded.

He shook his head, "no. I was never good with girls. Merle was worried about me and would push girls on me. We never talked, just...you know."

She looked at him as he sat stirring his spoon in his jar. "You don't act like a man who's no good with girls."

Avoiding her stare he wondered what she meant by that. Did she think he was self assured or knew what he was doing while he was with her? "Like I said, I don't feel much like myself anymore."

"How would you have been with me before?"

This was becoming uncomfortable for him. He didn't know what she was looking for, he didn't know what the answer was. He looked over at her, at her big brown eyes that he was coming to love, at the look of a need for something on her face. "I don't know. I don't know how I'm with you now."

They ate their food silently, scraping the edges of the jars to get the last bits, to prolong the silence. She didn't know what answers she was looking for from Daryl. Perhaps she was searching for her own reason for her actions, her desires, her wants.

She handed her empty jar to him and he set it aside along with his own. "I like you," she blurted out and he froze. "There is something happening here. Between you and me. There's no use pretending there isn't." He simply stared, not quite able to meet her gaze.

"It's not easy for me either. I keep going back and forth, not sure why I feel the way I do or if it's right or makes sense or..." She started to feel foolish, pushing him towards something he obviously didn't want. "I guess I'll just shut up then."

"I never had a girlfriend," his voice was barely audible. "Thought I'd spend the rest of my life hanging with degenerates then escaping to the woods on occasion. Never saw myself with someone. Especially not someone like you."

"Like me?" Her heart was pounding, excited and nervous by his meaning.

"A good girl. Smart and nice," he watched a blush come over her face. "Why would you want me? Women only look at me different after I do something for them, like save them."

"I don't need saving." Her voice was quiet.

"Do you need me to protect you?"

Harley shook her head. "I don't need your protection."

"No. You don't." All the things he did that drew other women to him, made them ponder the possibility of being with him, didn't matter to her. She had saved him. She had protected him. She was good to him, kind to him, comforting.

Daryl didn't feel good enough to be wanted. He could understand needed but not wanted. He looked over at her. "I just don't understand why me?"

"I feel...good with you." She moved closer to him, "safe, sure, unafraid. You get me. You accept me as I am." She stroked his beard and moved her face closer to his. "Do you feel good with me?"

"Yes."

"Do those feelings scare you too?"

"Yes," he said weakly, moving forward and kissing her gently on the mouth, playing his tongue against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his hand grabbed her leg and pulled it over his and rubbed her thigh.

His desire for her burned through him, the taste of her sweet in his mouth. Their tongues massaged each other and the air was filled with moans and sighs. Daryl took her bottom lip between his and sucked it for a moment before slowly letting it go.

They stared into each other's eyes, she bit her bottom lip, shy in her wanting for him. He slipped his hand under her shirt and he caressed the smooth skin of her stomach, feeling it quiver under his touch. She leaned forward to take his mouth again and he gave it to her. He was weak for her.

He stroked her face, looking at her tranquil expression. "I don't want you to regret anything, ever, with me." He looked directly at her, making sure she understood. He also needed to protect himself. The way he felt, she could easily hurt him.

He removed his hands from her and took a deep breath and put some distance between them. He began to unzip his pants and he caught the look on her face. "I just want to get comfortable, I can't lay in the bed with my pants on. I'm not planning anything."

She nodded and turned her back to him, "don't you own any underwear?"

He paused, "I think I might have one pair. I'll see if I can find it." He got up and rifled through his dresser until he found a pair of boxer-shorts. He went to the other side of the bed and changed into them and got in next to her.

They both lay on their back, staring at the ceiling as light began to filter through the windows. He reached down and took her hand, feeling the cloth of her wrist guards.

"What are you hiding under these things? There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with your hands."

She let go of his hand. She removed her wrist guards, tossed them to the ground. She knew she would be exposing herself to him so he could see her pain. He would now see what made her vulnerable, what made her fall apart. She turned to him, holding her arms out so he could see. Wrapped around her wrists were proof of being tied. Tightly tied. The scars were ragged and thick.

He stared at them, a fury coming alive in him. "What happened?"

"The last group I was with was raided. They took our possessions. They took lives. They took me and another woman from the camp." Her voice was quiet. "They tied us up and beat us. Laughed as they touched us, making sport of our fear. They left us alone in a room for hours, bleeding, crying and waiting for them to come back to do more damage."

He turned on his side and watched her, tracing her scars with his fingers.

"I had spent my time pulling against my ropes trying to get free. They took her from the room first and I was able to free my hands. I grabbed my things that they had thrown in the corner and escaped. I didn't go after her."

The woman's name was April. She was crying, her whole body shaking, as the smiling men took her from the room. She had screamed as the door closed behind her. It was piercing and full of fear. Harley still woke up sometimes after hearing those sobs in her dreams. "I try not to think about it because I can only imagine what they did to her."

"That's why you stay alone now?"

She nodded. "I felt drawn to you out in the field. I understood." She pulled her hands away from him. "Now you're not the only one who's exposed."

"You didn't have to show me this. I'm not entitled to your pain. I'm sorry I asked."

"I needed someone to know."

He longed to kiss her again, but he couldn't, not after knowing what happened to her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you like that."

She looked at him. "Don't be sorry. You're not like other men Daryl. You don't do things to hurt people. I need to feel the touch of someone again. Of someone who cares."

A hush fell over the room. Daryl thought back to the kid Randall at Herschel's farm whose group would rape women as they terrorized the roads of Georgia. They had fought over whether or not to kill the boy as he was tied in Hershel's barn. Daryl knew he would not hesitate to kill those that did this to her.

"I will always have your back Harley. Always fight for you. Protect you." He meant it. "As long as I'm alive, no one will ever be able to do anything to hurt you."

"I know."


The 9mm in her hand felt good, Daryl had told her to keep it on her, make it her personal weapon. They had traveled from field to field shooting various weapons, moving on when they drew the dead to them. He was a good teacher, showing her the difference between various guns, how to stand, aim, shoot, load, and take apart different weapons.

It was exhilarating, all that power in the palm of her hand, but she still preferred the quiet of her bow. Her constant companion, security.

Her shoulder ached from where the rifle had recoiled against it, the worst her bow did was give her callouses on her fingertips where she drew the string.

They made their way back behind the gates of Alexandria and returned the truck to Tobin's yard. He hadn't bothered moving it since Daryl brought it to him. Harley took his crossbow back to the townhouse with her and he went to drop the guns back to the armory.

Daryl waited for Olivia to check all the guns and bullets back in, letting her know that he was keeping one gun, a clip and a box of ammo. When he got outside he ran into Aaron coming back from the farm. He had taken over the field with Eric since Maggie left. They had put a halt on active recruitment and Aaron seemed happier, still being able to work with Eric without worrying about his safety.

Daryl missed going out with Aaron. He had liked their conversations and the easy way Aaron carried himself. He clapped Aaron on the shoulder when they greeted.

"Long time man," Daryl said looking at the sunburned skin of his old friend.

"Well, when you're trying to feed two communities...," Aaron's voice trailed off. "Listen, Eric is making his special spaghetti tonight and between you and me, I know he's dying to get a look at your mystery lady. How 'bout it? Say in two hours you both come by?"

"Um," Daryl wavered. He wasn't sure how Harley would take being cross examined by them. "I'll see. We've been out all day and she might be tired."

"Sure, no pressure. Two hours and if you're not there no harm no foul."

"Thanks man," Daryl said before he headed home.

Harley sat on the kitchen counter in only her sports bra pressing ice wrapped in a cloth against her shoulder, her face still flushed from being in the sun all day. He could tell she enjoyed shooting. Her mouth had gaped in awe when she shot the .45, sending her arm flying up. He had to help her control it at first but after a short time she was shooting steady, hitting her targets more times than not.

He went to her, trying not to look at her taut stomach or cleavage above her bra's collar line and moved the cloth away from her shoulder. "Let me get a look." The bruise was red and spread across her shoulder like an ink spot. "Does it hurt bad?"

"Not too much. I'll take a hot shower in a bit, that should also help." She recognized the look he had on his face. It was the same one he had when he kissed her chest the other day. His eyes did a quick glance down at her body then moved back to her face. He stood quiet as he stared into her eyes before stepping back away from her. She slipped silently off the counter and walked past him. There had been something off about his reaction to being near her all day. It was her scars. They made him pity her. Lose his desire for her.

"Hey, you want to have dinner with some friends of mine? Aaron and his boyfriend invited us over. It'll be good, spaghetti with fresh pasta sauce?"

"Sure," her voice was flat. "When?"

He watched her as she dug through her bag and pulled out a straight razor. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, but every time he looked at her he remembered her story of being taken and touched by those men. Then he would feel guilt and unease. He didn't know how to be alone with her now.

"In about two hours," he answered. She nodded her head and went upstairs.


They sat at the table with finished plates of spaghetti. They all had glasses of wine except Daryl who drank whisky and water. Harley had stuffed a napkin through Daryl's collar, telling him watching him eat was like watching her young nephew who would have more food in his hair than his belly. Laughter came easy at Aaron and Eric's table. They told stories of before, carefully sidestepping any mention of panic, of tragedy, of death.

Daryl sat back and watched her and Eric talk about characters in books like they were real people. She would smile gently at the man and smack him lightly in disagreement with him. Daryl thought this was what she must have been like before. Easy and relaxed, always with her sweet smile and quick wit. Eric choked on his wine when Harley told him some woman called Jane Austen was a dusty vagina having hag who could take her pride and prejudice and ram 'em up Mr. Darcy's puckered asshole.

Aaron caught Daryl's eyes and they both laughed, their bodies shaking. Eric sat indignant.

"So, how are you liking it here?" Aaron asked, taking a drink.

"It's good. I never thought I'd see a place like this again. This place is special."

"How do you like your accommodations? It must be crowded at Daryl's place," Eric said giving a knowing look to Aaron. "Are you thinking of getting a place of your own?"

Harley glanced quickly at Daryl who was slouching in his chair watching her from behind his hair. "Well, I'm small so a closet would be fine for me. Are there many available places?"

Eric looked at Daryl. "Jess and Pete's place is almost restored. Maybe the two of you could move in there, give you more room. It's a good home to raise a family."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Aaron shot Eric a reproachful glance.

"I don't think we'll need all that," Harley's voice was casual. The way Daryl had backed off her though, maybe they should see about larger accommodations. Or she could look for something just for herself so he could have his space back.

Eric stood and held his hand out to Harley. "Come, I have a ton of books you can borrow if you want. I even have a few Jane Austens."

Harley got up and followed him to the overstuffed bookshelf in the other room. Daryl nursed his drink as he watched her scan the bookcase, pulling out books and speaking to Eric. She had worn her hair in two afro puffs tonight and Eric squeezed one of them and said something to her before they both started laughing. Daryl wished he could be that easy with her, touch her freely. He sighed and drained his glass.

"You really like her don't you?" Aaron was watching him as he watched her.

"Can I be honest with you?" Aaron nodded. "She told me something. About what happened to her out there," Daryl gave Aaron a pointed look, hoping the man caught his meaning, "and it makes me feel..." Daryl grappled with the next words.

"Different towards her?" Aaron offered.

"No. Guilty for how I feel." Harley wanted someone who cared, and he did, but also wanted her sexually. Desperately. Every moment next to her made his skin hot and his groin tingle. He constantly wanted to lay her down and pull her clothes off and touch her everywhere but knowing she had been tied, beaten, and molested made him feel wrong for having those feelings.

"Do you trust her?" Daryl looked at Aaron, confused by his question. "Do you think she'd lie to you?"

"No."

"Then if she acts fine you have to believe she is fine. If she's not pulling away, if she's receptive, you have to believe it and not have fear for things you think she should be feeling but accept how she really feels. Does that make sense?"

Daryl watched Harley laughing with Eric in the other room. "Somewhat. Thing is, I'm not sure if she's fine. I can't tell."

"Then move slow but make sure she knows what you want. Last thing you need is for her to think you're just her friend. She's attractive, smart and funny. Some other guy's not going to hesitate while you back off and you may end up watching her with someone else."

Daryl stared at Aaron. He was no good at this, he never pursued anyone and had no clue what to do. "Fuck," he said and Aaron gave him a sympathetic look.

"Relationships can be scarier than a herd of roamers."

Daryl nodded. Then a thought hit him. "Hey, you got any sweatpants or pajama bottoms I could have?"

Aaron gave him an amused look, "I think I can rustle something up, give me a minute." Aaron got up and went upstairs.

Harley and Daryl walked back to the townhouse. Harley held several books in her hands and Daryl had two pairs of pajama bottoms from Aaron. They sat together on the couch and she pulled out a book and held it up to him. "Thought you'd like this." The book was 'the Outsiders'.

Daryl took it and laughed. "I saw the movie. Me and my friends called ourselves greasers after that. Even tried to do flips off of cars and stupid shit like that. Almost broke my neck a few times," he smiled at the memory.

She put the book down in front of him and stood up, "well, I'm gonna head up to bed. Gotta a long day tomorrow."

He nodded, not knowing if he was supposed to join her or stay down there on the couch. He decided to stay. He slipped on one of the pajama bottoms and lay down. Picking up one of the picture books she had got him he flipped through the pages, seeing nothing, only feeling the tug of her silently calling to him. He got up and walked up the stairs. He could hold her and nothing more. He could control his other urges, let her know he was there for her.

He stepped in the room and found her reading on her stomach. She looked over at him, then without a word, closed her book, turned off the light and made space for him in the bed. He got in and pulled her close to him, his arm around her, his face buried in her neck.

His heart was racing. He took a few deep breaths and said nervously, "I feel something for you Harley. I don't know exactly what it is, but I feel it and it's strong."

She listened quietly, knowing this wasn't easy for him. Understanding his hesitation at his feelings for her. Glad he still desired her.

"I get it," she said. "Being alone is easier especially when you've been alone for so long. But I don't want to ignore this. I think it can be good. We just have to fight our natural instinct to push back against it."

She took his hand and pulled it to her mouth and gave it a kiss and felt his body relax.

"I'll try," he mumbled into her neck and squeezed her tighter.