Electric. The atmosphere between them was electric. Subtle glances, shy smiles, little steps shifted closer. If Carla noticed the change, she didn't say anything. Their destination was a long hour drive away, and Beth was happy to stretch her legs once they got out of the rust-bucket of a truck. Her rucksack settled heavy on her shoulders, and the dense woods loomed around them. The car park was on the verge of the forest, and Carla nonchalantly said it was another half hours walk to the campsite. Beth filled her lungs with the crisp, fresh air. Cool, but not cold. That faint earthy smell that only a forest could have. Familiar noises of birds drifted into her ears, and the not-so familiar silence. It was a heavy silence that promised total isolation. That thought sent a thrill down her spine, and she wasn't sure if it was excitement or apprehension, or just the crisp air biting at her skin. She stopped to pull a jacket out of her rucksack. Daryl was doing the same, meaning they lagged behind the other two a little. He wasn't wearing his biker jacket; instead he pulled on a thick suede one with a woollen collar. It wrapped around his lithe form, and hung low over his cotton fingerless gloves. Already Beth was imagining twining her fingers through those gloves, burying her face in that woollen collar. She reigned those thoughts in; Carla and Merle were only a little ways ahead, and Beth wasn't ready for them to know how much her and Daryl's friendship had changed. Daryl lingered at the forest edge as she skipped to catch up. He offered her a smile, little more than an upwards twitch of his mouth.
"Ya like camping?" Daryl asked, casting his mellow eyes around the treeline. Probably out of habit, Beth realised, since his mind automatically catalogued every aspect of the natural setting. What way the wind was blowing, what animals might have passed by, the weather patterns of the next day or two. All little things like that, he just seemed to absorb without thinking too much about it.
"Yeah, I go camping with Maggie and Dad every once in a while," Beth smiled, glad he was taking the initiative to start the conversation.
"Didn't take your sister for much of a camper," he snorted. Beth laughed and agreed.
"She's not the best, that's for sure."
"She works at the chemist in town, yeah?" Daryl asked. Beth nodded, filling him in on Maggie's successful career she had landed because she was secretly a super nerd who enjoyed things like chemistry and reading scientific journals. Not that she'd ever let anyone else know that.
They chatted about not much in particular until they caught up with the other two, and then Carla's boisterous personality took command of the conversation as usual. Their feet crunched twigs underneath as they tramped through the underbrush, and their voices sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness of the trees. The light that managed to squeeze through the canopy fell over the path in dapples and patches. Beth joked and talked with Carla, but her mind was half distracted by Daryl. Was he intentionally teasing her, walking so close that their hand brushed together? Or was she just reading too much into it? As he strode ahead to catch up with Merle, Beth caught him throwing a sideways glance at her. That expression was full of mirth, the twinkle in his eye suggesting he knew exactly what he was doing. Beth blushed and tried to ignore him. She half wished he would act like his old normal self, that awkward and shy almost-friend, instead of this self-assured new attitude. At the same time, Beth found herself enjoying the subtle flirtations. It was obvious he found her bashfulness amusing and it seemed to give him a weird sort of confidence maybe because he was all too often the most shy one. But Beth silently worried that he was making this into a game which didn't mean that much to him, that he was just messing around. She liked him, sure, but she didn't want to be that naïve young girl who believed it when some silver-tongued mature man said he was truly interested in her. These reservations tickled the back of her mind, but she refused to think much about them. She was still captivated by his easy strides, so silent and precise, and the way his gloved hands deftly rolled a cigarette. Smoke curled from his lips. It slid around his face and drifted into the air, like a cloud rolling off a mountain. He caught her staring and smiled. Beth, heart fluttering, snapped her gaze away and cursed the ever-present heat in her cheeks.
The clearing was cluttered with branches and debris, obviously neglected for the past few months. They set to work clearing it out. Sharp twigs clawed at Beth's hands as she dragged them aside. Her breath grew laboured as she lifted one of the larger ones onto their firewood pile. The strain in her muscles lessened as another pair of hands grabbed the other end.
"Thanks," she huffed as Daryl helped her lift it atop the pile. "You gonna do some hunting?" she asked, noticing a crossbow slung across his back and a rifle leaning against a nearby tree.
"Yeah, might get some squirrel for dinner," he shrugged. His gloves caught on the branch and he took a moment to pry them off, flicking his eyes briefly at Beth as he did so.
"We brought food, you know," Beth reminded him.
"S'not the same as huntin' it yerself," he shrugged again. His posture changed as he leaned back to look at her, like he was critically evaluating a piece of art. Reservation seemed to fleet across his face before he pushed it away with a single cough. "Uh, I could show ya how to shoot, later…" he tailed off, his previous confidence temporarily gone. It was like he put up a wall of nonchalance whenever there was the slightest chance of rejection, as if he expected her to push him away. Beth smiled widely to dispel his apprehension.
"That's be great."
"Aw, shit," Merle suddenly cursed from beside the fire pit he and Carla were crafting. "I forgot the fuckin' matches in the truck." He kicked the dirt in frustration, the usual humour that permeated his personality retreating. "Gonna have to go back for 'em."
"I'll come too. Gotta make a call," Carla wiggled her phone at arm's length, obviously struggling to get a signel. "Ya wanna come, Beth?"
Beth glanced over her shoulder at Daryl, then back to her friend. "Nah, I'll stay an' help Daryl set up the tent," she said. Not really an excuse, they did need to set up the tent before it got dark, but she relished the little spark of adrenaline that coursed through her at the thought of being alone with Daryl, if only for a while.
"Suit yourself," Carla said cheerfully, handing Beth the rolled up tent. Apparently, it was big enough for four people, but looking at its minute size Beth seriously doubted that. Merle and Carla set off down the trail, bickering good-naturedly about something or other. Beth took a deep breath, savouring the peace of the silence. She loved Carla, loved her enthusiasm and joyful nature, but sometimes you just needed to stand in silence and look at the trees. They were old trees, some covered with moss, some with bark peeling off at intervals. The air was tangy with the smell of decaying leaves and it made Beth think of log cabins and bonfires.
"Ya pickin' me over Carla now?" Daryl grunted, a smug look badly disguised behind an expression of feigned indifference.
"No! Shut up. I just wanted to set up the tent," Beth hissed at him, swinging the bundled tent at his arm.
"Hm, 'kay. If ya say so," he mumbled under his breath as he knelt beside her to untangle the mess of canvas and ropes.
"What was that, Dixon?" Beth challenged him. Her curled golden hair drifted stubbornly across her face and she fixed him with a glare as she tied it back in a bun.
"Oh, nothin'," Daryl replied innocently, but he was no longer able to contain a satisfied smirk which instantly belied his casual attitude. "Ya hair looks nice like that."
"Don't think you can distract me with flattery, Daryl. Quit teasin' me or I'll get real mad," Beth countered, but any gravity her words might of held was lost as her lips curved up into an unwilling smile.
"Scary," Daryl commented sarcastically. Beth let out a half-hearted growl of annoyance at his incessant bantering and set to work untangling the tent. The canvas stuck to itself and there were missing pegs, but before long they had got it mostly erect. Beth brushed her hands over the mesh, hoping it was enough to keep out the dew and cold. The fabric brought back memories of past camping trips, memories saturated with contentedness and even happiness. She was so lost in her nostalgia that she didn't notice Daryl coming up behind her until his soft gloves were squeezing her shoulders. "You're pretty cute when yer angry," he mumbled into the back of her head.
Beth giggled and fidgeted out of his grip so she could spin to face him. "I'm not angry," she reassured him. Her hands found their way to the lapels of his coat and the woollen warmth was a relief from the chill of the late afternoon air. Daryl smiled and the light hit his face, highlighting the stubble around his jawline. Just then, it struck Beth how older he really was, how different from herself. She knew that not one person in her life would likely approve of this, but…but they didn't know how many emotions he filled her with. Joy, nervousness, solidarity, comfort. She didn't care for their opinions. They didn't know the whole story, couldn't possibly know how each of them felt in the presence of the other. "Not yet, anyway. Keep teasing me an' see what happens," she said quietly, their proximity placing a strange limit on her voice like she couldn't quite squeeze the words out. The warning sounded like a dare, like a challenge.
"I might do that," Daryl muttered softly, his eyes flashing with defiance as he wound his arms behind her back and pulled her closer. Beth could have let her legs collapse and she'd have stayed upright, that's how firmly he held her. But it wasn't territorial or constricting, it felt safe, like being strapped into a car seat. His knuckles brushed her back as he clutched handfuls of her oversize jacket. Beth unconsciously bit her lip in anticipation, but he refused to lower his head so she could reach it. He just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Perhaps he was lost in another train of thought, or perhaps he was just taking in the petite angelic form he held in his arms.
"You ever gonna kiss me?" Beth breathed quietly, almost scared of startling him. He smirked a little before complying. It was just how she remembered; soft, warm, consuming. She tried not to let her inexperience show as the kiss deepened and she found herself at a loss for how to respond. In the end, it seemed easier to let him lead on and just follow his example. It was different, this kiss, more breathless, more loaded with connotations than their previous drunken embraced. In the cold light of a sober day, it seemed more important. Daryl released her lips and moved his caressing grazes across her jaw, eliciting a giggle of surprise from Beth.
"Too damn cute for yer own good," Daryl whispered huskily into her ear, his stance more firm and a new sense of confidence underlying his grip. He moved one hand from her lower back up to her neck, using it to tilt her head sideways. The trail of kisses grew softer as he scraped across her neck, trying not to leave any obvious trace. The day-old stubble still scratched red lines down Beth's soft skin, and she pushed back against his controlling hand so she could kiss him properly again. Her shyness wore off amongst the cloud of new sensations, overtaken by a need to absorb as much of him at once as possible. Her persistence pushed back against him and he let her fiercely kiss him for a moment before he broke away with an apologetic smile. "Calm down, darlin'," he chuckled softly, amused by her sudden need for contact.
"Don't want to," she mumbled unclearly as she stepped closer, tugging him closer with hands firmly grasping at his collar. She echoed his earlier actions and grazed across his neck with tender lips, and it took all of his self-control to step back again. "Daryl," she huffed with annoyance, this time not an ounce of it faked.
"Listen, I know this is all new and exciting for ya,"- Oh god, she thought, here it comes. He's going to tell me that he was just fooling around, he doesn't really want this. Beth's negative thoughts and previous reservations pushed to the front of her mind before Daryl could continue. –"But…just slow down a little, 'kay?" Daryl finished with a sigh. Beth stepped back with a frown on her face.
"If you don't really want this, just tell me straight out," she snapped with a hurt expression on her face. Daryl shook his head, a comforting smile across his face.
"Don't be silly, Bethy," he reassured her. She crossed her arms, glaring at him with disbelief. "Look, would ya c'mere?" Daryl grunted softly, wrapping her back up in his warm embrace. "Of course I want this," he whispered. "But yer just a kid, Beth. I dunno, I just-"
"I'm not a kid," Beth grunted indignantly, cutting him off. "I'm eighteen in two weeks and I hate being treated like a dumb middle school brat," she growled.
"Okay, okay, but ya know what I mean," Daryl soothed her apologetically. "I don't wanna get you in trouble. I don't want ya to feel like ya have to act a certain way, just because I'm older. That's what people'll say you're doin'."
"I don't care what anyone else thinks. They don't even know," Beth whispered back in dismissal. His face was so close, his jaw clenching with unspoken words, and she couldn't resist leaning up to kiss the rough surface of his cheek. His entire demeanour softened under her touch and his frown melted off his face.
"Quit bein' cute when I'm tryna talk to ya," Daryl snorted with laughter. He pressed one last kiss to her temple before dropping his arms, turning away with a confident strut that made her follow him. "Let's go huntin' until the others get back," he said, looking at her with a raised eyebrow until she nodded. He picked up the crossbow and rifle and slung them easily over his shoulder. Beth liked being alone with him. It meant she could skip after him and grab his gloved hand in both of hers, inching her fingers through his, and cling to his arm possessively as they walked towards a smaller trail to the east. He didn't seem to mind her hanging off him like a baby monkey, and she didn't mind that he pulled her closer to his side as they brushed past overgrown bushed and low-hanging branches. It was like this whole forest was theirs, and there was no one in it to judge them, and Beth was free to behave like her true self; a self that was definitely not the well behaved girl everyone thought she was.
Beth picked up the rifle. It was heavier than she thought, the cold metal and steel a threatening weight in her arms. Daryl had set up a target not far off, nothing more than an old can on a log, because Beth had outright refused to shoot any animals. Not that she was against hunting, exactly; growing up on a farm had taught her the necessity of life, death, and the cycle of life. She just couldn't bring herself to shoot a critter that was just going about its day.
"Like this?" she asked, holding it in her arms the way she'd seen it done in movies.
"Uh, not really. More like-" Daryl paused to adjust her grip, his hands ghosting over hers and rising goose-bumps on her arms- "this." Beth felt completely clueless about guns, since she'd never been allowed to go near them before. It was kind of exhilarating, to hold the power of life and death in her own two hands. "And then aim down the sights, an' shoot," Daryl guided her towards the target. The smallest squeeze set off the rifle with a loud bang, and the recoil almost knocked Beth on her ass. She giggled with embarrassment; the bullet had hit a tree about five feet from the target. "Lemme try," Daryl took the gun from her and took a shot, but he was also fairly far from the target. "Nah, I'm better with the crossbow," he muttered, picking up the weird contraption of gears, pullies, and wire. One shot, and he'd pierced the can right through its label. Birds scattered from the trees at the metallic clang.
"Wicked!" Beth clapped her hand together excitedly, the noise echoing. "Can I try?" Daryl nodded and handed it to her; it was probably longer than her entire shoulder width. She raised it to her chin and glanced at Daryl to see if she was doing it right. Judging by his expression, she was most definitely not.
"Hold it looser. Looser. Nah, yer too tense," Daryl muttered, standing behind her to line the crossbow up with her shoulder. He laid a hand on her back, and it felt like his fingertips were burning through the thick fabric of her jacket and onto her skin. Beth shivered. The cold steel of the crossbow weighed down her arms but with Daryl's hand there, she was frozen in place. "Relax," he instructed softly, pushing her shoulder blades apart a little. That had the opposite effect, since Beth inadvertently tensed up under his touch and drew in a sharp breath. "C'mon, relax this part," Daryl grunted, digging his fingers in either side of her spine, not knowing or not caring the extent a simple movement would affect her. Beth concentrated and released her muscles, trying to resist begging him to keep his hand there. She almost whined when he removed it to adjust the loaded arrow. "Better," he commented. Beth held her breath as she aimed at a second can, hoping she'd at least get near it. The arrow released with a soft twang and whistled through the air, knocking off the can. It didn't pierce it, but it was close enough and Beth smirked with pride. "Ay, nice shot," Daryl whistled.
"I have a great instructor," Beth giggled, finally letting her arms release the heavy load as Daryl took back the weapon. He pshhd her compliment away with a wave of his hand. "Oh, c'mon, you're pretty damn good at this," Beth continued. "It's pretty hot, to be honest," she teased.
"Stop," Daryl grunted, leaning down to adjust the crossbow which conveniently let his hair flop over his face and cover it.
"Aw, he's blushing," Beth announced to no one in particular, giggling at Daryl's uncomfortable sidestep. "Ya gotta take what you give, Dixon. Ain't gonna forget your teasin' in a hurry."
"Aw, stop," Daryl repeated, ruffling her head good-naturedly to take the sting out of his grouchy words. Beth had seen him do the same with Carla on many occasions and it was kind of nice for him to treat her so casually with such ease. He gathered the weapons up and glanced up. "Ya go get those arrows for me?" he asked, jerking his head towards the forest. Beth nodded. She picked them up, taking a moment to run a finger across the pointed tips. Sharp, and would probably hurt like a bitch to be shot with. She laughed to herself at the absurd thought of her ever hurting something, and took one last look around for any stragglers. She turned back to the trail, but Daryl wasn't there anymore. A little pump of adrenaline surged through her veins but she supressed it.
"Daryl?" she called out, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. No answer. Okay, it was still okay, he couldn't have gone far. "Daryl, if this is a joke it ain't very funny," she yelled out a bit louder, using anger to drown out the apprehension in her tone. "Daryl?" she tried one last time. It was a bit quieter, as if her voice had noticed how her yells echoed and wanted to hide itself. No answer. Adrenaline began surging for real now, making her heart pound. No Daryl, no idea what way their camp was, and it was getting dark. Shit.