Michonne knocks on the door just around sunset. There is something about the way she's standing that immediately puts Beth on edge.

"The supply run went bad."

Beth feels her stomach drop, her throat goes dry and she has to force her mouth to form words.

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah, they're briefing the counsel and telling the family. Daryl should be back in an hour or so."

"Who...?"

"The man from Kentucky, Roger?"

"He used to be a truck driver." She can picture his face, the teeth missing in his warm smile.

Beth invites her in, she stays for a bit. They talk about rationing for the winter and joke about living off of Maggie's canned tomatoes.

Michonne pauses at the door when she's leaving. They had both moved to the door when they heard the lock click open. Daryl stands on the small porch, nods and mumbles, yeah's and alright's. The entire time he's listening to her his eyes are on Beth. He runs his fingers over the thin leather cuff on his wrist and Beth can't hide the blush that rises up to her cheeks. She watches his brow furrow and his throat constrict as he swallows. He doesn't flinch when Michonne touches his arm as she walks down the stairs.

Two days. Two days away. Two days without her touch, her smile, her smell, her voice. The door clicks closed behind him and Beth immediately finds herself engulfed in him. Strong arms firmly wrapped around her, her face pressed into his chest, his breath warm on her neck.

"I missed you too, Daryl."

Beth can feel the small huff, something almost like a laugh, as he pulls back.

"Are you hungry? I can make something."

"Nah, just tired. Only slept a couple hours." He touches her shoulder. "I'm gonna go upstairs."

"Okay, I'll be up soon." She kisses him and watches him climb the stairs.

Even though Michonne had told her that they were alright, Beth can finally let out the breath she had been holding in. She hears his footsteps above her head as she finishes cleaning the old canning jars and setting them to dry before going up to him.

She opens the bedroom door and Daryl is there in front of her. He's kneeling at the foot of the bed. Beth bites her lip. He's naked, hands crossed behind his back, running his thumb over the bracelet. His head is resting on the comforter, eyes closed.

She closes the door, drops her jeans to the foor and sits on the bed next to where he is, gently pushes his hair back from his eyes. "Come up here."

He moves, just a little, enough to rest his head on her thigh.

"Daryl,"

He nudges at the inside of her thigh with his face.

Beth tangles a hand in his hair and leans over him to run the other down his back.

"Please, Beth." His voice is soft, "I wanna make you feel good. I need to be good for you."

She looks at him, his strong body folded around her, eyes closed, head down and pressed into her.

"You are so gorgeous like this, Daryl."

His response is just to nudge at her thigh again and shake his head.

"You are, you look so perfect." She rubs across the top of his shoulders and laces her fingers through his hair.

"Missed you, Beth." His voice is rough, the way it sounds when he hasn't used it much. She shudders when he drags his tongue against the warmth of her inner thigh. "Missed the way you taste."

"You need sleep."

"Please?"

She can feel his breath, warm against her leg. Beth watches him for a minute before she says anything.

"Keep your hands behind your back."

He nods as she shimmies out of her panties and spreads her legs in invitation.

Daryl's breath on her patch of curls is enough to make her moan, he listens to what she said and nudges her open with his nose before licking along the length of her slit. He goes slowly, lets his bottom lip drag behind his tongue and when he reaches her clit begins a rythym of fast, fast, slow, while he watches her bite her lip.

He takes his time working her up, changing pace, flicking and sucking at her and then practically fucking her with his tongue, his scruff rubbing roughly on her skin while he reaches as far into her as he can. His chin is soaked with her wetness and his nose is filled with her scent while her hands fist in his hair and he's drowning in the sounds and motions of her orgasm.

He rubs his face on the comforter and watches her come back to herself. Stretching herself out only to curl back up in another position.

"Come up on the bed."

He means to move, to listen, but she looks so beautiful laid out before him. He feels at home, rough carpet under his knees and looking up at her.

"Daryl, come up on the bed." Her voice is stronger this time and he listens, stretches himself out next to her. He starting to feel the exhaustion setting in. His dick twitches but he'll ignore it, at least until she tells him not to.

She touches the band of leather on his wrist, "You don't have to wear it all the time."

He nods, "I know. I like wearin' it, just reminds me that I'm yours." Daryl glances up at her, "Makes it easier knowing I can come back to this, to you."

She smiles and it beckons him to move closer, resting his head on her outstretched arm. Daryl tucks his face against her breast. He's warm and comfortable and not even the slightest bit embarrassed to curl his legs up against hers, his breath hitches as his body finally relaxes and his eyes fall shut. He feels her hand rub gentle circles on his shoulder and hears her hum softly into his hair as he falls asleep.


He stands in front of the mirror the next morning, wipes away the fog and leaves streaks of his fingerprints. She's finishing up in the shower, making good use of the rationed hot water.

Her words are still sitting with him.

"You're so gorgeous like this."

"You look so perfect."

He can't see it.

He sees too long hair and the graying streaks against his face and on his chin. His ears stick too much. His jaw is set in a rough line.

There are more wrinkles around his eyes, the shadows underneath them aren't as deep but they're still there, camaflouging the blue, the blue that matched his mom's. His skin is sun-worn. There's a new scare on his lip, the older ones are faded on his temple, hidden beneath the hair on his chin, separating his eyebrow into two parts.

He's rubbing his chin when she steps out of the shower and comes up behind him.

She smiles and he sees her pupils dilate as she looks him over. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"I ain't nothing to look at, Beth."

She just sighs, "You've never been able to see yourself. Not the way I do, Daryl. Staring into a foggy mirror isn't gonna help."