SORRYYYYY. It's been four days. Four days! That's almost a week. And that's almost a month. A month! But I'll make it up to you with the next chapter, okay? Okay. My new 55-250mm lens arrived today (weeeeee 333), so I was really busy shooting pictures, and I had a lot of stuff to do for the past couple of days. This is a small chapter, but I really felt like finishing the kissing scene, hehe. The next one will be longer, so keep that in mind! Just be patient, because I really have a lot to do these days. Sigh! Oh, and last but not least: Please enjoy! :) Megan

Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or it's characters.

Oh god. She was kissing him. She was kissing Daryl Dixon. Carol could feel she overwhelmed him – hell, she overwhelmed herself. But he almost immediately cupped her face, and pulled her closer into him.

All the other sounds faded away as he trailed the warm tip of his tongue softly over her bottom lip, as if asking for entrance. She parted her lips and moaned softly as he deepened the kiss. She felt his hot, wet tongue slowly exploring her mouth, and she couldn't help but tremble as it met hers.

Then he abruptly broke the kiss, but kept brushing his thumbs over her cheeks, and looked at her for a second. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath. "Fuck, Carol."

She looked at him searchingly. Please don't stop. Please. But before she could say anything, he got up from the bed, pressed her down and places himself on top of her in the blink of an eye. She let out a small squeal in surprise, but it sounded muffled as his lips covered hers again.

Where he had been gentle and slightly hesitant before, it was now more rough, and she couldn't say she didn't like it. She let her fingers run through his hair, grasping it tighter as he suddenly grazed his teeth across her bottom lip before slowly starting to suck on it. The sudden movement caused her to moan, and she grinded herself against him, unaware of the fact that she was doing so until she received a low groan in response while he pressed himself harder onto her. He slowly slid his hand under her shirt, tracing his fingers over her stomach ever so lightly.

"Damnit woman," he moaned into her mouth. He pulled back just a little, brushing his lips against hers, "You'll be the death of me." Suddenly, far away, she heard footsteps on the metal stairs. Quickly she pushed him off of her and sat up, still panting while trying to pull a neutral face. Just seconds later, Carl stood in front of them.

"Oh, there you are," the boy said to Daryl. "My dad wants to talk to you, make plans for tomorrow and stuff."

Carol glanced at Daryl. His cheeks were slightly red, so were his lips, and his hair sticked out in different directions. She managed to stifle a giggle, and Daryl answered, "I'll be there in a sec."

Carl nodded, but shot them both a quizzical look before he turned around and left them. Daryl turned back to her and she immediately saw he was his old, slightly shy self again. "Thank god ya heard the kid," he grunted. She sent him a smile, and he slowly stood up, grabbing the stacked plates on his way up. "Well, I eh, I gotta get goi-"

"Wait!" She interrupted him, and stood up as well. She quickly brushed his hair down using her hands. "There. You looked kind of.. wild." She grinned. His lips curled up into a small, almost unnoticeable smile and gave her a quick nod before walking out the door.

"Ah, there you are. About tomorrow.."

Daryl put the plates on the pile of plates the others had made in a corner and sat down on the other side of the round table, facing Rick. He tried to listen, but his thoughts kept drifting towards Carol. Her lips were so soft, and they tasted delicious. He was surprised by his own reaction, but even more surprised that she never pushed him away. In fact, she pulled him even closer, like she wouldn't survive if there was any part of her body not covered by his own. He was never this confused in his life.

"And that is where you.. Daryl? Are you even listening?" Rick frowned. Daryl looked up to him.

"What? I, eh, sorry, I'm eh, tired! Yea, tired. Real tired." He said, continuing with an exaggerated yawn. What the hell was he doing? He knew by the look on his face that Rick was thinking the exact same thing, and he sighed. "Sorry. Didn't sleep very well last couple of nights. What were ya sayin'?"

Rick's eyes scanned his face, and Daryl involuntarily brushed his fingers past his still tingling lips before he repeated himself, a little more gruffly. "Rick, what were ya sayin'?"

"I was telling you about my plans for tomorrow," the sheriff said while scratching his chin. "When we clear out the next part of the prison. It's way too big to do all of it in just one day, so we'll clear it section by section. I found this map," he tapped on an emergency evacuation map, "and this is what we're gonna do. We take Glenn, Hershel and T-Dog, and go through here first." He said, tapping on the door that was nearest to the red dot with 'You are here' above it.

"Then we follow this path," his fingers traced a dashed line he had probably just drabbled on there, "until we get here." He said, now resting his finger on what appeared to be a storage room. "I think there's still plenty of food, supplies, medicines and ammo there, so it would be great if we found it. Is everything clear?"

"Clear." Daryl answered seriously. "When we leavin'?"

"Early. I'll let you know in the morning. You're always up early anyway, so don't worry about it."

Daryl inspected the map once more, before getting up. "Oh and Daryl?" he heard behind him. He turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Keep your wits about you."

A small crooked smile appeared on his lips, and he nodded before going back upstairs.

When he arrived at his cell, it was empty, and he found himself being kind of disappointed. He shook it off quickly, unbuttoned his shirt and his fingers fumbled with his belt as he was lost in thought once again. He grunted as he caught himself thinking about Carol.

Tonight I can think about her all I want, but tomorrow I need to focus, or she'll actually be the death of me, he thought to himself, before closing his door and crawling into bed.