Daryl returned to the house late in the evening, not necessarily being avoidant, but not in any hurry to return home. A detailed discussion with Rick about his poor luck filled up his afternoon. Rick reminded him yet again the foolishness of continuing to try and find Dwight and his men, especially on his own. He did not want to lose Daryl to this, but Daryl was like a dog with a bone. Dwight and his men had been wreaking havoc on the Alexandrians for weeks, interfering with their runs, taking hostages, and they were pretty well convinced they had something to do with the breach of the wall. Daryl had been trying to track them unsuccessfully and it was beginning to grate on his nerves that he could not catch these guys. It was clear they were being watched closely, that Dwight's team had some sort of intel on the group, but they were very careful about covering their tracks. More recent conversations between Daryl and Rick had them wondering if there was someone amongst them who was providing information, though neither of them were anxious to admit to that as a plausible reason.

He returned to the house tired, sore, and frustrated. All he wanted to do was wash up, grab a quick bite to eat, and then head out to the garage to work on his bike, and get some of that frustration out. He tried with great difficulty to ignore the voice in the back of his head that kept telling him to find Ellie and talk to her. She was patient, she wasn't going anywhere. It would probably be wise to be in a clearer mindset before he approached her, he thought. So he shook off that inner voice and pushed into the house, shedding his jacket stiffly and making his way to the kitchen where Eric and Aaron were eating dinner.

"Hey, you're back. How you feeling?" Aaron asked, scanning the stiff form that stood at the end of the table. His eyes widened as he saw the bloodied bandage on Daryl's arm. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just some scratches…I'm gonna grab a quick shower, save me some of that spaghetti?"

"Sure. What happened out there?"

"Just an accident is all. No big deal."

"Did you…?" Aaron asked, knowing of Daryl's mission, just as invested in catching Dwight after a tough run a couple of weeks ago where they lost a couple people.

"No," he said, shaking his head. He gestured upstairs and headed up to wash up. He had a quick shower, soaking his bandages to make it easier to take them off, then patched new bandages over top of his wounds, threw on some clean clothes and headed back downstairs. The guys were still at the table as he sat down beside them, grabbing a plate of now cold spaghetti and shoveled some in his mouth. Eric and Aaron watched him eat in silence, his body language clearly telling them not to probe too deeply. He had been staying at their place for some months now, and they were able to read him pretty easily by this point. His moods were pretty predictable, and they knew when to push and when to leave things be.

He continued to eat as Eric cleaned up the table, finishing off his meal with a swig of cola, before bringing his plate and glass over to the sink and dusting off his hands.

"Ellie eat already?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant, noticing she had not been at the table, but not wanting to draw attention to his awareness. Eric and Aaron shared a knowing glance that Daryl caught, looking at Aaron skeptically. "What?"

"Uh, nothing," he said, doing a poor job of trying to avoid the question.

"What nothing?" Daryl asked as Eric suddenly became very involved in the washing up of the dishes, avoiding Daryl's searching gaze. "What's up?" his brow furrowed in concern as his gaze traveled between the two.

"Ellie's gone," Aaron said, after a moment of hesitation, clearing his throat. He winced at the delivery, thinking it sounded a little cold, and unsure how to elaborate.

"What do you mean gone? Saw her earlier at the clinic," he commented, furrowing his brow in confusion. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and began to chew fervently as he tried to digest the information.

"She, uh…. Decided to find her own place," Eric said, briefly glancing at Daryl to judge his reaction before ducking his head back and turning his attention back to the dishes.

"What? When?" he asked, staring at Aaron, waiting for an answer.

"A couple days ago. She asked me to help her find a place for herself. Said she had taken advantage of our hospitality for too long and was feeling bad about it. I didn't think too much about it. Just sad to see her go. We like her a lot," he said, gesturing at Eric and himself.

"Oh," Daryl muttered, nodding, unable to think of anything to say. He didn't know how much the men knew about what had happened between him and Ellie, and didn't want to say any more than he had to on it. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and edged out of the kitchen, heading towards the garage.

"She took the townhouse beside Rosita and Spencer," Aaron added as he was heading out the door. Daryl paused, and nodded in acknowledgement before entering the garage. Aaron and Eric exchanged knowing looks as the familiar clattering rose up from the garage. The noise didn't last long, as both men expected. They could hear the outer door slam shut as Daryl headed out.

The two remained silent as they worked through the dinner dishes together in unison, until Eric broke the silence, laughing to himself.

"You owe me, the Carolina's, next run." Eric smirked at Aaron, referring to their license collection as he flung soapy water at him as Aaron picked up one of the dishes to dry. Aaron just laughed and shrugged in response.

"Yeah, yeah. You were right."


Daryl didn't even know what he was doing there. His legs had moved of their own accord, carrying him out of the garage and down the street before he could even decide whether he should be going. Before he could come up with a reason why he should or shouldn't go to her, he was outside her door, pacing on her porch. He chewed absently on a fingernail while he decided whether he was going to knock. There were a couple of lights on in the front of the house, giving him the impression she was still awake. The front door opened as he was mid-stride, startling him, as a warm glowing light cascaded from the opening.

Ellie peaked around the door, smiling subtly at his nervous stance, her eyes taking him in from head to toe. Her gaze stoked a flame in his gut that had never truly gone out from the other night. Her grey eyes were crystal clear in the reflection of the light, sparkling like a smoky quartz, and they lit up when the corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. Her long dark hair fell across her shoulders and down her back in loose curls, begging for him to reach out and grab a lock to wrap around his fingers.

"Hey. Everything okay?" she asked softly, leaning her head on the door frame.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's alright. What's up? You need me to look at your dressings?"

"Uh, no… no I put fresh ones on not too long ago," he said, avoiding her gaze as he rocked back on his heels, unable to be still.

"You wanna come in? Or you wanna hang out here all night?" she asked, smirking as she held the door open wider, casting more light onto the porch. His eyes were drawn to her, unavoidably, as the orange glow cast a warmth over her exposed skin. He looked her up and down, taking in her lean long legs, exposed to mid-thigh before cotton shorts blocked his view. A loose sweater hung off her curves, having slid down one shoulder. She crossed her arms below her chest, leaning against the door frame invitingly. He exhaled, and drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, chewing absently. He nodded a silent reply, and she backed up, holding the door open for him.

He hesitantly stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door behind him. Without directing him, she headed down the hall to a small living room, expecting he would follow her. Which of course he did, the sway of her hips like an anchor in a stormy sea. He walked through the unfinished front room and down the hall, where the kitchen opened into a small room with a couch, and a couple of chairs. He watched her, mesmerized by her graceful confidence as she moved with ease around him, grabbing him a drink from the kitchen and placing it on the coffee table before settling herself on the couch. She sat with her knees drawn up, and crossed her ankles. He stood in the doorway, studying her, taking her in from head to toes, before he eased into the room and sat at the other end of the sofa, putting a bit of space between them, though if he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her. Though he tried to, he could not rationalize the pull to be near her, the draw was instinctual. She gazed at him, her steel grey eyes penetrating his protective walls with ease, and he didn't even care.

"So what brings you here?"

"You left," he said, a statement, not a question, though she understood the implication.

"Yeah."

"Guess I wasn't the only one being avoidant," He quipped, throwing her earlier implication back at her.

"No, I guess not," she said, grinning sheepishly. "Wasn't sure how long you'd want space for, or if you'd even want to see me, so I thought I'd make it easier."

"Thanks?"

"No problem," She replied, laughing softly. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed, he noticed, their color lightening to an icy grey when she was joking. He lost himself in their depth for a moment, jarred back to reality as she stretched her legs out across the couch, her toes grazing his thigh. "It was time. I'm sure Aaron and Eric won't even miss me."

"They will. I will," He said, his voice gruff as his throat went dry at the admission.

Ellie smiled, a warm relaxed grin that washed over him like a warm bath. Any tenseness in his muscles eased and he relaxed into the sofa, draping his arm across the back. He closed his eyes as he leaned into the soft cushions, and let his mind wander momentarily.

When he opened them again, he found her studying him with that same grin on her face, and he felt suddenly vulnerable and uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and met her eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, to reassure himself or her, he wasn't sure.

"So."

"So."

"You wanna tell me about that knife wound?" she asked, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she focused on him. Her head tilted slightly as she examined him. He responded by drawing in his lower lip and chewing on it, his jaw ticking rhythmically.

"I was close. But not close enough," he said, breaking the silence, taking his time to respond. He was barely able to contain the edge of frustration on his voice.

"Doesn't look that way to me. Looks like you got too close," she commented, her eyes narrowing.

He looked down at where his wound was, hidden by dressings and his tee shirt, and shrugged dismissively.

"What were you looking for on your run?"

"A trail. Told you. Came close."

Truth was the guy that swung at him had gotten away before Daryl could grab him and question him. He didn't feel like admitting that though, as the failure was sour on his tongue.

Ellie shook her head, furrowing her brow in concern. She studied him carefully, looking for clues he wasn't giving her, before sighing and leaning into her hand. She subconsciously tucked her toes underneath his thigh, warming them as she felt the muscle tense, then relax.

"Is it a necessary risk? To keep looking for them?" she asked, surmising what his recent runs had been about. She had patched up the last few run crews with Denise, aware of what had been happening outside the walls. That supplies were beginning to thin was also an indication that runs had not been overly successful as of late. She had yet to tell him that her last inventory of the clinic was looking pretty grim. They would need meds soon, and suture supplies if things didn't change.

"Gotta. We need supplies."

"Maybe you need to change your tactic then," she suggested, shrugging her shoulders. He looked at her, furrowing his brow as he contemplated her suggestion, absently chewing his lower lip. "What does Rick think?"

"He thinks I should back off. Doesn't want me making any unnecessary risks. Thinks they will out themselves sooner or later. We just need to double up on our runs," he explained, chewing over it, making a face that said he didn't necessarily agree. "What you thinking?"

"Doesn't really matter, it's just an opinion," she said, shaking it off.

"Naw, let's hear it. You've been out there, you know what you're doing."

"You wanna catch them, you need bait," she said, shrugging. He looked at her, studying her face for a moment, considering her statement, as she fumbled with her hair, suddenly subconscious. He nodded as he mulled over her suggestion. "I do agree with Rick though," she added, causing him to pause, his eyes flashing at her. "You shouldn't be taking any unnecessary risks. Alexandria needs you," she said softly, her concern for his welfare evident in the softening of her voice.

"Alexandria, huh?" he asked, raising a brow as he grabbed her feet, which she had been unaware she was tapping rhythmically while her toes were tucked underneath his thigh. He pulled them into his lap and began massaging the soles gently. His thumbs dragged along the bottom of her feet, finding knots and gently working them until she relaxed under his touch. She sighed subtly, and sunk into the couch, her muscles loosening with the warmth from his skin on hers.

"Okay fine, not just Alexandria," she replied, after relishing in the attention for a few moments, her eyes narrowing as she caught his side glance at her. He watched her sink into the sofa, her muscles relaxing, her head leaning back into the cushion as her eyes closed, enjoying his touch. His hands worked their magic on her feet, and then traveled up her ankles to her calves. She could hardly stifle a moan as he kneaded her tight muscles. "Shit," she muttered, sinking down further on the couch, giving him more access to her legs as he worked. He worked silently for a few moments before his hands stopped moving, and she groaned. "Don't stop. You sure know what you're doing," she said, grinning. His deep blue eyes lit up with a mischievous spark as he looked at her.

"I wanna hear you say it," he said, suddenly confident as his gaze narrowed on her.

"Say what?"

"Why don't you want me going out there?"

"What?"

"You don't want me out there, looking for Dwight. Why?" he said, his drawl thick when he said the word 'why'. He squeezed her ankles, prodding her to answer.

"I don't want you to get hurt," she said simply.

He raised an eyebrow, challenging her to elaborate.

"Fine. I care about you, you ass. Happy? It kills me to see you put yourself at risk like that. If you didn't come back, I just… I'd have no reason to stay here," she ended softly.

"Well that's not true. You got plenty of reasons to stay here," he said, smirking as his hands began to move again, gently rubbing her calves, driving her crazy with his careful touch.

"It's not the same," she responded, her gaze wistful as she gave him a half grin. "Everyone here is nice, and I feel very welcomed… I'll stay, but it would always feel a little bit less than, you know?" he smiled at her, his hair covering his hooded gaze as his head dipped.

He knew what she meant, he felt it too. Couldn't name it, wouldn't name it, this inexplicable pull that made him feel supremely confident and incredibly nervous at the same time. After all he'd seen, all he'd been through, he finally had that feeling, that there were moments that you just had to go with, and take for what they were worth. You could only fight for so long, and he had fought, desperately at times. Maybe it was time to do something else. Time to look at living, again, and for the first time. He had never really had that option before all this, or during. Her gaze offered him something he never considered within his reach. For whatever reason, whether it was his gut, or animal instinct, or that voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like a stubborn blonde telling him to have faith, he was going to give it a try.

His hands made their way slowly up her legs, caressing her knees, gently grazing the soft skin underneath them, before travelling up to her thighs. Her gaze was far off in thought as he massaged her gently, his thumbs grazing over her skin with fleeting touches. His eyes darkened as he focused on his hands traveling up her thighs, reaching the hem of her shorts and grazing his fingers underneath them. Her gaze returned to his face, and her eyes narrowed as her mouth turned up at the corners. His hands rounded to the back of her thighs, where his touch changed to a firm grip as he pulled her towards him, yanking her down the couch. She yelped quietly at the movement, her arms landing above her head as she landed back on the couch, laid out for him as his eyes traveled the length of her body, greedily taking her in, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips. His gaze landed back on her legs as he worked slowly on the toned muscles, pushing the hem of her shorts up. His thumb grazed over a pink scar that traveled from the top of her thigh to her inner thigh, marring the soft delicate skin. His eyes darkened, a look she had seen glimpse of before, and again she had the thought that this look should give her pause, or strike fear, but it didn't. The fact that he was angry about what had happened to her brought her a strange measure of comfort.

"Tell me," he said, his voice gruff and tight. Something in his voice was commanding, yet carried with it the weight of the concern he had for her.

"Daryl…," she started, hesitating, biting her lip until it blanched.

"I need to know. You never need to tell me again. But I need to hear it. I need to know what you went through," he said, his grip on her thighs firm but reassuring, squeezing gently then stroking the length of her legs across his lap, his touch attempting to soothe her. As his hand traveled back up her leg, he traced the length of the scar repeatedly until she squirmed under his touch. She moved her hands from above her head, and covered her face, rubbing her temples in small circles before pushing her hair away from her face.

"It's been a long time. I went to counselling, moved across the country, changed my whole life. I didn't want it to define me, or be hostage to it." She added, her brow furrowed as her eyes met his hesitantly. She drew her legs from his lap and sat up, facing him, crossing her legs underneath her and leaning forward.

"It's just something that happened. I don't know why. He never said. Never spoke when it happened, never said anything at the trial. He never once said why. What I said, what I did. I will never know. That's the worst of it. Not the scars, ugly as they are. I want to know why he followed me home. Why he held a gun to my head and pushed me into my apartment. Why he beat me, tied me up, raped me. I asked. And asked. His parole hearing was why I came back. I wanted to know. I yelled and cried and he never said one thing. And when his parole got denied, that fucker hung himself. I will never know," she said, her face going red as she rubbed her neck. Her voice was low, and she avoided Daryl's intense gaze as he studied her. She struggled through pauses, taking her time to talk. He wanted to reach for her, touch her, sooth her, but she looked like a skittish animal that would bolt at his touch. So he waited.

"I worked really hard to let that go. I think that's why I wanted to be by myself after all this went down. I was trying to put it away, accept that you don't get answers to everything, and you gotta live with that. It will never be easy, and every day I look in the mirror and I think about it. Can't not. 12 stab wounds, 62 days in ICU, another 18 after that on the ward. 6 months of physio. That's all of it. It's ugly." She said, her voice cracking as she spoke, her voice cold and removed. She absently rubbed the back of her neck as she spoke. He looked at her, concern evident on his face.

"What do you want to hear Daryl? That he followed me home, attacked me at my door and dragged me into my apartment? That he stripped me, beat me, tortured me? How it felt when he touched me? That he forced himself on me, repeatedly? That when he came inside me he panicked and stabbed me so brutally I can never have kids? That I can still see him, when I close my eyes at night, after more than 9 years? I'm just grateful it's not every night anymore. At least I can sleep now, most nights. Like I said, ugly," she finished, cringing, turning her head to the side, and rubbing her chin on her shoulder. Her skin trembled and she brought both hands to her lap, methodically flexing her fingers.

As he had the other night, he reached for her hand, and grabbed her wrist. He gently drew his thumb across the delicate soft skin on the inside of her wrist. She furrowed her brow as she watched his thumb move back and forth across her skin, her composure beginning to crumble.

"Hey," he said softly, as tears welled up in her eyes and her breathing quickened. "Look at me." He said, tilting her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his. "There's all kinds of ugly in this world, there was then, there is now. Doesn't define any of us."

She nodded delicately, swallowing hard as she tried to reign in her emotions.

She shifted next to him on the couch, leaning into the cushion beside him, her head finding his shoulder. Her hair fell loosely between them, grazing the skin on his arm, and he reached over, grabbing a few strands and twirling them between his fingers, relishing in the softness before dropping the strands. Her knees were drawn up and she leaned into his side, comforted by his warmth and silence as he let her collect herself. He dropped his hand, landing it solidly on her knee, where he stroked her skin softly, trying to help ease the tremors that cascaded underneath her skin. His touch was soothing and incredibly gentle, despite rough, calloused fingers, rhythmic in their circling, helping her focus and regain her composure.

"I wish…," Daryl started, shifting uncomfortably next to her, his muscles stiffening up in their stillness.

Ellie held her hand up to his lips before he could finish his thought. Her brow furrowed as her head dipped, her eyes shaded by her dark lashes.

"There's nothing that can change it," she replied softly. "I'm okay, really." Daryl arched an eyebrow in reply, unsure if he believed her or not. "I swear. It's hard to talk about, I'll never be comfortable with that, ever. But it happened, I can't change it, you can't change it. I see it in your eyes. You want to hurt him, and I get it. I do to. But we don't get to," she said, caressing his cheek softly. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, and then her wrist, gently, before letting go. "Thank you, for caring enough to want to do something."

"El,…I would do anything for you," he admitted, his voice cracking with unspoken feeling. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her, before dipping his head.

"I know," she replied, her voice soft as a whisper. The weight of their admissions hit her hard, and she took a deep breath in, swallowing hard. She stared at him as she processed what they were saying, without actually having said it. She knew, this man would have her back, no questions asked, as she would his. This was it, this was what home felt like, something she had longed for since her grandfather had passed away, and long before that. Looking at him, looking at her, felt like coming home after a long journey. It was almost too much.

The moment was broken when Daryl shifted stiffly on the couch, wincing as he moved his left arm up. His shirt was clinging to his rib cage, blood seeping through the bandage. Ellie gasped when she saw it, swearing softly and jumping up off the couch. She grabbed Daryl's right hand and pulled him up off the couch, trying to be gentle, guiding him down the hall to a bathroom. She flicked on the light after opening the door and pulled him in behind her.

"Let me see," she said, lifting his shirt gingerly. When she exposed the bandage, she saw that it was saturated in fresh blood, but not dramatically so. "Can you take this off?" she asked, gesturing at the shirt.

Daryl hesitated, looking at her blankly for a moment while he contemplated. His throat got suddenly dry, and he swallowed a hard lump, as his gut sank. She had just been so vulnerable with him, exposed and raw, and here he was, standing in her bathroom, facing her, fighting the urge to keep covered. He felt like absolute shit for feeling that way, but years of self-consciousness were difficult to suppress. She had stripped his shirt off the other night, in the heat of the moment and he was so caught up in what she was offering him that he didn't even think about what he was exposing to her.

"You want me to help you?" she offered, misreading his reluctance. After a moment he nodded absently in response, and she grabbed the hem of his tee shirt, and gently guided it over his head, her fingertips gently grazing his skin, leaving a trail ablaze with heat in their wake. He stiffly shed the shirt onto the counter, and lifted up his left arm to look at the dressing, scrunching up his nose.

Ellie's brow was furrowed deeply as she looked at the bandage, her fingers feeling around it gently, prodding the skin and then laying her palm flat on his chest while he breathed raggedly, trying to control his body's reaction to her touch.

"I'll be right back," she whispered, jogging out of the bathroom and down the hall, collecting a small bag from the kitchen and coming back to the bathroom.

She pulled out a stethoscope, wrapping it around her neck, and a stack of gauze, placing the gauze on the counter. He watched her move clinically, with purpose as he stood in front of her. She popped the ear pieces in her ears and held the bell of the stethoscope up to his chest, listening carefully. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she assessed him, her brain working overtime thinking she had missed something earlier when she had patched him up.

"What…?" Daryl muttered, finally finding his voice.

"Sorry, I thought maybe I missed something," she whispered, dropping the stethoscope in the bag, and reaching for the tape holding his dressing down, her fingers trembling with fear. She peeled the tape back gently, pulling the dressing away from his skin. She inspected the stitches and noticed a small area where a trickle of blood flowed out of the wound, satisfied that everything else looked okay. She reinforced the area with extra gauze, and taped it down firmly. Her fingers continued to tremble as she pressed the tape down on his skin, wrapping it around his rib cage onto his back. Her fingers grazed one of the long jagged scars on his back, causing her to pause and look up at the mirror behind him. Daryl froze, looking away from her, chewing on his lower lip rhythmically. Her eyes widened as she saw the reflection of his thrashed back in the mirror. She gently traced the long scar as far as she could reach, as her eyes welled up. She drew in a ragged breath, and turned her gaze to his face, taking in his pained expression as he avoided her gaze.

"Hey," she said, reaching up and turning his face to hers, forcing him to look at her.

"I told you," he said, his voice ragged, "this world was as ugly before as it is now."

Ellie looked at him, concerned, before nodding in understanding. His body language and his pained, glazed expression told her he would not voice the source of his scars. She would not ask him, she decided. A darkness flashed over her grey eyes as she surmised the source, a look similar to the one he had given her. He saw it flash momentarily, and the fierceness behind it startled him. She shook her head as her fingers continued to gently caress the long scar, and composed herself. She finished taping the bandage, dragging her fingers over his skin, relishing the contact. Once she was finished, she reached up and caressed his cheek gently. Leaning up on her toes, she kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth, while her thumb stroked his cheek. He stood still while she touched him, unsure of what to do. She lowered herself back down, and looked up at him from under her dark lashes, and smiled softly.

"I'll be right back," she said softly. She gathered her bag and dropped it off in the kitchen before running up the stairs. He wandered out of the bathroom, following her up the stairs, his confidence wavering as he swallowed another hard lump. He found her in the biggest room upstairs, a large bed taking up most of the room. His throat went dry when he looked at the welcoming soft looking bed, as she surfaced from the closet, smiling at him, a dark grey tee shirt in her hands.

"Here, hope this fits. Whoever was here before left some stuff behind," she said softly. She helped him pull the soft cotton over his head and down his torso as he moved stiffly. The bulkier bandage on his rib cage made movement a bit more difficult. Her hands lingered on the smooth material, feeling the rapid heartbeat through his chest. She smiled softly, trying to ease his discomfort, as his hands eventually traveled around her torso to settle low on her back.

"You can stay, if you like," she whispered, breaking the silence as they stared at each other. She saw the nervousness flash over his gaze momentarily, before he nodded silently in response. His hands traveled absently up her spine, through her hair, and he pulled her towards him, holding her gently. She tucked her head under his chin, drawing in a deep breath, the smell of musk and pine and dirt and distinctively Daryl Dixon invading her senses. "Get comfy, I'll go lock up," she said, pulling her head away reluctantly and looking up at him. His eyebrow arched at the order, as he barely contained a smirk. He liked her bossiness, he decided, very much.

She disappeared briefly, setting the locks and turning out the lights, before returning to the bedroom with a couple of glasses of water. He had kicked off his boots and jeans, and sat on the edge of the bed in a tee shirt and boxers, unsure of what to do with himself. She smiled when she saw him, and he watched her walk gracefully into the room, mesmerized by the sway of her hips. She put the water on the side table and climbed into bed, taking an elastic and tying a loose braid in her hair. She settled into the soft mattress, and turned on her side, facing him. He remained sitting on the side of the bed awkwardly, before gaining a small burst of confidence, and laying down beside her. Smiling, she curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest and closing her eyes, breathing him in and settling into a relaxed state. After laying like that for a few minutes, his arm wrapped around her, pulling her tighter to him as he buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath of coconut and vanilla. Sleep overtook them both easily, easier than ever before.