AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

He always had something to confess. The little things he thought and the little things he forgot. Any way it rolled, it almost always made Carol smile or laugh. It proved his affections for her in these little ways no one could understand. Perhaps it was because he had never had someone to call his own before, and because he struggled to say what he meant in words consciously, so in the subconscious moments he would always absently say something he didn't mean to say out loud, or sometimes did. He was like a meek little lamb, bashful when it came to love, but on the outside gritty and hardened. There was a softer man underneath, a man who still believed in the inherent good in the world.

"I liked you first."

This time it came from him and she turned to smirk and argue it, but before she could get a word out, he blurted, "I was an outcast but you were still so fucking beautiful that I wanted to knock Ed's lights out." She wanted to ask why, opening her mouth but no words came out, her eyes wide with awe and her cheeks pink despite herself. Seeming to get what she was try to say, he continued quickly, "But you were a married woman and I had to respect that because I respect women and, and now you... you should marry me, because... because I... and I know I'll be shit at it, but..."

He fumbled on his words like a total idiot and he wanted to kick himself. He was a man of few words so this was hard for him, when he confessed like this. Nevertheless, he boldly stepped toward her in the building they were scouting, putting on his best brave face. They had dated for a little while now after recovering from the trauma of the hospital, which still bothered them both but he was glad she was alright at the same time. He was never happier than the moment she suddenly squealed and threw her arms around him.

"You look so hot with that sniper rifle, baby."

Another one of those times, when they were alone together on watch. He was smirking at her devilishly from where he was seated on the log. She was surprised again, looking over at him uncertainly, finding herself doubting Daryl Dixon of all people had said that. He was slowly but surely less shy with the more physical aspects of their relationship. Then, she gave him that flirty smile, crooning, "Wanna repeat that, pookie?"

Daryl tilted his head, seeming to contemplate, smiling a little himself before resting his head on the butt of his crossbow. He didn't say anything, just gave her this sultry stare she was finding hard to resist. After a moment, he said, "God, you're just hot in general. Or maybe it's the heat. I dunno, it's making me pretty hot-"

Next thing he knew he was knocked to the ground and a certain queen was straddling him, working at removing his belt. Who knew Daryl could talk a little dirty.

"I missed you!"

The one she heard when he was in a good mood or gone for a few days, he would fly over to her and slam her into the ground like a lost puppy. If they were alone, he would treat her to being practically bathed in kisses, and he made it a tradition to bring her home a chocolate bar. He would smile crookedly and listen to her munch happily while he polished his crossbow, overjoyed he could keep a wife happy.

"I'm sorry."

The confession varied. If they were arguing, once his temper passed, he would shrink and back up. She would recognize herself in him and know she had gone too far if he recoiled like a kicked puppy, looking at the ground and whispering the words in an almost inaudible tone. She could never stay mad at him purely because of it, and they would both end up apologizing profusely to each other, trying to fix it, trying to make it better.

Other times he would say it as a joke, smirking and saying it very sarcastically. If he was angry, the tone would become even more sarcastic and there would no doubt be a hurtful comment that followed. The times he came back to camp late, it would be spoken crawling into bed and breathing against her neck. The time he had accidentally shot her in the arm with an arrow, there were tender, loving words that followed the apology. The one she had to say she favored the most was when she had the control over him in bed and he knew it.

"I like it when you keep me company."

He was always absent-minded when it came to comments now that he was more accustomed to speaking his mind. He looked over at her with his big, blue eyes, searching hers before skipping pebbles along the water while they walked to set up some traps. Over time, he had begun to take her on some of his hunting expeditions, proving just how far his affection extended. She had never heard him speak the words out loud until now, and she had to admit that it made her happy to know.

He chuckled then, scuffing the dirt with his shoes that were beginning to wear down. "Everything's always better with two," he continued, for once, rather than shutting down the thought and going on his way, walking closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist, fiddling with the strap to his crossbow, "Even the others get annoying sometimes. You don't. You're fun. And you're mine."

She just smiled a little and accepted to comments, unsure if she should break the positive mood by making a joke. Every morning he would outright say he loved her and every night as she fell asleep, getting over the fact it was mushy out of acceptance this world they lived in might be cruel at any moment. During the time in between, he had his round about way of saying it unless it was a special occasion... for instance, every time she opened the door to let him in, he would be holding a dead squirrel out by the tail. It grossed her out a little but it was adorable. "Thank you, Daryl."

They shared a brief kiss and stepped into the woods.

"I forgot our anniversary!"

Sure, they couldn't really give gifts unless they took things from runs, and he couldn't give her anything huge and extravagant, but the fact he had forgotten without planning at least something small made her so angry his meek apology was ignored. The shriek had practically rung around camp, and Rick looked at Michonne, raising his eyebrows and saying, "Well, that spells trouble for any couple."

By the time his lecture was over, he was left looking like a sad, lost kitten and unsure what to say after she had hissed at him for a good time. He tried to crawl into bed with her but she kicked him out to sleep on the floor. They could barely keep track of the date anymore but it wasn't entirely impossible. He would remember not to forget next time. The next morning, he made her breakfast instead of going out to hunt after coming to Rick with his tail between his legs begging to take a day away, which he had smirked knowingly and granted. He even boiled water and made her coffee himself, letting her sleep in and placing the gift of a gold necklace with a ruby heart pendent with "Daryl loves Carol" harshly scratched into it as neatly as he could in peace offering. He was rewarded with her happy tears and being pinned to the floor.

However, her favorite confession came years and years later. After managing to forge a safe haven with everyone as a family and then deciding to raise a child, which ended up being two, a boy and girl, they were still content in their life together. Daryl would always love her and she knew it well. Carol had been especially worried over the girl but years of relative safety reassured her and he quieted the fears.

It was in the late autumn when the flowers had begun to recede for winter. He had collected the last bouquet full of them and come home holding them behind his back. He handed them to her when he came in, saying, "Happy anniversary."

She had stared at them in awe, inspecting every exotic flower he had managed to bundle up and looking up at him. Scurrying to put them in water, she then hugged him tightly, kissing him passionately, curling her fingers in his shirt after running her fingers through the dark brown hair that was beginning to get streaks of gray though he was still fit as a fiddle. He gently grasped her wrists, kissing her back and pulling back to lean his forehead against hers, whispering a confession that made her heart flutter and soar, one she cherished until the end of her days.

"I am still painting flowers for you."