A/N at end of .
Thump!
Her eyes flashed open.
Thump!
Paige sat up slowly. What the hell was that? she wondered. Another thump drew her attention to the window.
She glanced at her alarm clock. It was well past midnight and she should be deeply asleep.
Thump!
Problem was, there was someone or something outside her window.
She got up and walked towards it, grabbing a *Hurley stick* as she went which, she guessed, was the equivalent of an American grabbing a baseball bat to defend themselves.
She slowly twisted the handle of the door leading out to her balcony, cursing herself for leaving it unlocked.
Outside, she shivered in the cold and squinted through the darkness.
"Hello?" she whispered.
"Paige?" A gruff voice answered her and she almost fell off the balcony in surprise. She grabbed the railing and leaned on her hurl to stop herself toppling.
"Daryl?" Her voice was surprised, then angry. "What the hell are you doing here? It's two in the morning and if you think you can just show up here and-"
"Paige, shut up" he said, interrupting her whisper-yelling. "I need to talk to you."
"And you couldn't have done this in-Oh I don't know, the day time?" she asked, still mad.
"Please?" was the only response she got.
She stood there, fuming and Daryl waited anxiously. But finally-
"Well, alright. I'll get the door. You just wait there for a few minutes and try not to- AAARRGGHH!"
She had to remind herself to keep her voice down as Daryl appeared suddenly on her railing. He grinned. She huffed, unsmiling and moved to let him in.
He walked into her room and plunked himself down on the floor by the sofa. He took out an unmarked bottle. After taking a swig he offered it to Paige who still hadn't moved from the doorway. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring at him.
"Is this what this is, Daryl? A drunken prank?"
He sighed, putting the bottle down.
"No. I need to talk to you."
"You're bleeding" she realized suddenly, moving forward instinctively. She stopped still a few feet away, cursing herself. She hated herself for caring about him, worrying about him after everything he'd done. She huffed again, from embarrassment this time.
"I'll, um, I'll go get the first aid box."
He started to stop her, to tell her to leave it but she slinked past him and out the door silently. He decided she probably needed some time to think.
After a few minutes he stood up. He wandered to her bed, looking at the posters there. He smiled at a pair of her trademark tights hanging off the end of the bed and another two pairs on the floor. He was right about the stash she had, then.
He went to her desk next. It was cluttered with papers and unsurprisingly, twizzler wrappers. Paige had become addicted to them since Merle had offered her one a few weeks back.
He turned his attention to the rest of the desk. He picked up a hair clip and accidentally knocked over a packet of pictures.
Daryl hesitated. He didn't want to pry. He had just decided to leave them back untouched when one of the pictures which had fallen onto the floor caught his eye. He leaned down and picked it up. He realized why it was familiar to him. It was the picture Paige had convinced him to take of the two of them. He felt a twinge at his happy face, remembering again how much he had missed her.
"Hey."
He spun around to see Paige staring at him.
"Uh…sorry. I didn't mean…"
She shook her head and smiled slightly.
"It's okay." She gestured to the sofa and he sat down. She began dabbing at his face.
"So…you gonna tell me what happened?"
Daryl was silent.
"You get in a fight?" she guessed. He shrugged.
"Just with Merle."
She tried to contain her curiosity and failed.
"What about? Or are you gonna lie about that too?" She stopped and looked away.
"I'm sorry" she whispered. She had decided, while in the kitchen that she didn't want to fight with him right now.
"Don't be. You're right." Daryl took a deep breath. "Tha's what we were fightin' bout." He glanced up at her confused face. "He told me I hadda get my head outta my ass and talk to you. He knocked some sense into me. Literally."
She smiled. That sounded like Merle, alright. But then her smile faded.
"I don't want you arguing because of me" she told him.
"Naw. He was right." Another deep breath and he was suddenly looking right into her hazel eyes.
"I'm sorry, Paige. I thought if I told you the truth, you'd be freaked out, ignore me. And I really didn't want that. I didn't want you ta pity me. I still don't."
She took his hand.
"Tell me what, Daryl?" she asked quietly.
He sighed, pulling away from her and she was hurt for a second before she realized he was pulling up his shirt. His back was to her and she gasped when his pale skin came into view.
"Daryl, I…" She reached out and gently touched one of the long jagged scars, littered on his back. He flinched at her touch but didn't pull away.
The marks contrasted wildly against his pale skin. They were all different shapes and sizes. Long, short. Some were thin and others deep enough to make her flinch.
She grabbed his face and turned him to face her.
"What happened to you?" she asked fiercely.
And he told her. He talked and talked. He told her everything. He told her about his fathers fits of rage and his fights with Merle. About how everything got worse after his mother had left.
When he was finished, he waited for her to say something. She didn't.
He started to feel that awkward regretful feeling he knew would come. He refused to look at her.
"Uh…Paige…I'm, um"
He was interrupted as she crushed her lips to his. It was a few seconds before he realized what was happening.
Her hands were on his arms. Hesitantly he placed his on her waist.
After a few seconds he pulled away.
"I'm sorry Daryl. For everything. I'm so so sorry" she whispered. He shook his head.
"Not your fault. But I don't want to be away from you, so I won't." He smirked. "Just sorry it took so long to figure that out."
It was only after Daryl had left through the window and her heart rate had calmed a little that she realized what had just happened. She could've kicked herself. Daryl was her friend, her best friend. And she'd just kissed him. Could they be friends after that? Was that what she wanted? Was that what he wanted? It had been a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, she hadn't really thought about it.
Questions flooded through her mind but it didn't take long to forget them. She rolled over onto her stomach and smiled sleepily. She and Daryl were talking again and that was all that mattered.
Right. Question. Relying on YOU guys now so don't let me down.
I was thinking that, in maybe two chapters, I should skip forward a few years, do a couple of chapters of Paige-Daryl in their twenties, then go into the zombie apocalypse. Please tell me if you think this is a bad idea, too soon, whatever because I'M not even sure.
Also, just so you know, this is NOT the start of Daryl-Paige romance. The messages I'm getting right now are basically telling me people want this (Again, if you don't agree I'd love to hear) But unfortunately, not yet. Too soon, I feel and remember
Daryl is still going through a lot.
Just so you know, I don't do smut. I can't write it. I'm sorry if you're disappointed. There are a lot of stories that do it, and do it well, but I can't. I hope this doesn't lose me too many viewers!
*Hurley (or camóge for girls) is an Irish sport using, obviously a hurley stick or a "hurl" Just thought I'd put it in, in case anyone was confused.
I've never eaten a twizzler. I just wanted an American sweet and I heard it on TV. Sorry. Any other American "candies" you think I should use? HaHa!
So…yeah. Sorry for rambling! Byyyyeeeeee,
JAGWALFF
