So this chapter happened a little earlier than I had planned, but it seemed to flow pretty naturally. I hope you all agree. I want to thank everyone who reads and reviews my story, but especially Narnian at Heart and zombieslayer5. I just want you all to know how much it means to me that you are enjoying my story; I love reading your comments! Thanks & Enjoy!
****Carol****
They'd been sitting there for a while and Carol was starting to feel a little light headed. Soon after her flirtatious comment about their night together, Daryl had pulled a flask out of his boot. She'd been thankful for something to do to take the attention away from what she'd said. Why did I say that? We just made up and now I'm going to drive him away again. They'd sat in silence for a bit, sharing the bitterest drink she'd ever had. He informed her, after her coughing fit was over, that whisky was his drink of choice, but this stuff was bottom shelf quality. "Still, it'll do in a pinch." He'd shrugged, taking another gulp and handing the flask back to her.
Carol had never been a drinker. She'd had a few beers now and then back in college, but after she'd met Ed he'd made it clear that she was not to imbibe. It had been one of his rules that she didn't mind obeying. Even now, the only reason she drank the awful stuff was because Daryl had offered it to her. She was determined to show him that she could be his friend on his terms. She wouldn't push him, she'd decided, but she would continue to be there whether he liked it or not. She knew, based on his past actions towards her, Sophia, and most of the others in the group, that he was changing. He was capable of friendship, compassion, and self-sacrifice. Aren't those the main things that make up a good man? She believed Daryl was a good man. He needed a soft hand. She had to be kind to him; she couldn't keep putting him in uncomfortable positions and then maybe he'd come around. But she couldn't seem to stop herself from shoving her gigantic foot in her mouth. To make it worse, she didn't understand what it was about him that made her like that. She'd always been careful with every word that came out of her mouth, with every glance, when it came to Ed. But with Daryl, she felt free to be herself to a degree she hadn't in years. He didn't always like it, but she knew he'd come around eventually.
The feel of pressure against her arm made her jump. She'd been leaning towards him, practically falling into his lap. At her startled movement, Daryl laughed. It was a real laugh, and it warmed her. Or maybe that was just the heat of the blush that crept up her neckline to her cheeks. "This stuff is really starting to get to me." She mumbled. He laughed again. "You sure as hell don't have the constitution for drinkin'." She laughed too, it sounded so loud to her ears and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Daryl put his arm around her to keep her steady and she leaned into him instantly. Putting her head on his shoulder she murmured, "I'll just lay here until the room stops spinning." She didn't see his rueful smile as he looked down at her.
Carol was in and out; she had no idea how much time had passed and her head hurt and her mouth felt dry. But she realized that she was standing, sort of, held up by an arm around her waist. She looked up, coming face to face with Daryl. She grinned. "Well, well, if it isn't Daryl Dixon himself. What are you doing here, honey?" She could tell her words were a little slurred, but she didn't really care. "I'm taking you back to your room. You're drunk." His voice sounded harsh, but she thought she could tell that he was amused.
"I am not!" She cried indignantly. Carol tried to cross her arms over her chest, but realized that one of her arms was around his neck and she was crushed against him as he half carried her. "I ain't arguin' with a drunk. Never gets nowhere." She pulled her best pout and saw him smirk at her. "You like me Daryl Dixon. I can tell." Her mind told her to shut up, but her mouth just kept yapping. "That's ok though, 'cause I like you too!" By this time he had gotten her into her room and dropped her down on her bed, but she'd kept her arm around his neck, dragging him down with her. He would have fallen on top of her, but he caught himself on the bed, his arms on either side of her.
"Carol." His voice held a note of warning and she knew that she was crossing every line he'd laid between them. But she couldn't stop herself. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she was just tired of keeping it all inside. "It'd be easier if you'd just admit it." And with that she pulled herself up just enough to kiss him full on the mouth.
****Daryl****
Shit! In his surprise, Daryl's arms had buckled and he'd dropped down, half on top, half beside Carol. His hand came up to her shoulder, but he couldn't find the strength to push her away. Instead he found his hand had snaked up to grip her neck of its own accord. She breathed into his mouth and he felt the tip of her tongue trace over his bottom lip. His tongue met hers and their kiss increased in passion. He slid his hand down her back and gripped her ass. As if on cue, she brought up her leg and hooked it over his hip. It was the sudden movement that brought him back from the warmth of her body and the softness of her lips. He sprang up from the bed, away from her, as if he'd been stung. What the hell am I doin'? She's drunk an I'm takin' advantage?! Goddamnit! I'm no better than fuckin' Merle! He paced beside the bed, overcome with new emotions. In years past, he'd had women who may or may not have remembered their time with him. It had never bothered him, as long as they were willing. He knew that it was natural to want to have sex with a woman, but if he was honest with himself he wanted more than that and it scared the crap out of him. He had to admit that he had feelings for Carol. She was pretty, with her blue eyes that seemed to pierce through him. She was nice, but she had spunk. She wasn't afraid of him and it both enraged him and made him infinitely grateful. The question was, did she mean what she'd said or had it just been the whiskey talking? He realized she'd been quiet while he paced and he glanced over at her only to find her fast asleep.
He felt conflicted. Now that he'd felt what it was like to kiss her, to hold her in his arms for real, he wanted to do it again. I could just lay down with her. She'd never even know. And then it hit him. What if she didn't remember any of this in the morning? What if she woke up to find him next to her and order him out or demand to know what had happened? He absolutely could not handle that. No, if I ever do that it'll be because she wants me there for sure. It had been his lust that had allowed the kiss to escalate, but it was his genuine affection for Carol and his fear of her rejection that propelled him out of her room.
He got no sleep that night. Between replaying the feel of her body, how his hand had flowed over her curves, and berating himself for letting it happen to begin with, he tossed and turned. He got up, well before dawn, before she could possibly wake, and left to hunt.
****Carol****
The sun was shining brightly in through her window when Carol finally woke up. She squinted and brought the blanket up to cover her eyes. Her head was throbbing, and she distantly remembered drinking whiskey with Daryl and him bringing her to bed. Oh my God! I think I kissed Daryl! She sat up suddenly, only for her head to spin. But she didn't have time for that. Lifting the blanket, she noted that she was still completely clothed. She was actually laying on a fully made bed with the top blanket from the other bed over her. She must have passed out after the kiss and Daryl had covered her to keep her warm. Shit, shit, shit! What is he thinking? That I'm a slut, probably. Carol had never done anything like that. And with Daryl, it could have pushed him over the edge. Maybe he realized that I was drunk, that it didn't mean anything.
But Carol knew that wasn't true. She was very attracted to Daryl. Under the dirt and sweat he was handsome. He had a strong jaw and light blue eyes. His arms were muscular and she had felt the firmness of his chest, stomach, and back from the times she'd ridden behind him on the motorcycle. His angry exterior could definitely be intimidating, but he walked with purpose and confidence in himself and his abilities. She had felt herself respond to him, to his touch, many times over the past weeks. It was blatantly staring her in the face, she wanted him; physically and emotionally. But that may never happen. Daryl had changed so much in the year that they'd known each other, but he would never be a loving, affectionate man. Of that Carol was certain.
I realize that it ends abruptly, and I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to decide where to go from here. Hope you liked it!