I'm still so terribly nervous about writing Sophia and building her character so please feel free to review or PM me with your thoughts! I hope you enjoy the chapter, it was a fun one to write! And as always, thank you so much to everyone that reads/reviews/follows/favorites! I love you all! This chapter is dedicated to CheerfulB, the most dedicated Caryl fangirl I know!
Sophia knew she shouldn't be spying on them but she just couldn't help herself. She was curious, Daryl hadn't been anything like she'd expected. She was carefully leaning on the railing, looking down into the kitchen, watching her mother and this strange man together. It was the sound of her mom's laughter that had brought her to the staircase, she'd heard it all the way in her room. She tip-toed over to the stairs to peek through the wooden rungs, if she angled herself just right, she could see through the entryway of the kitchen. Carol was sitting on the edge of the countertop, wine glass in hand, laughing hysterically at something Daryl said. He was leaning on the opposite counter, cheeks flushed but looking pleased that he'd made her laugh.
Sophia watched their interaction with fascination, Ed had never made her mom laugh, he never talked to her or smiled at her. He'd just bark orders at her or make cruel comments, hurt her and make her cry. She saw her mother hop down from the kitchen island and place her wine glass in the sink before moving toward the quiet man. She couldn't see her mom's face but his was visible, he was smiling shyly, his eyes cast downward. He almost reminded Sophia of the boys she went to school with rather than some of the grown-ups she knew. She could see her mom's arms wind around his neck, pulling his strong body closer. He returned the affection, carefully wrapping his arms around her waist, his chin coming to rest on a thin shoulder, eyes closing. He was so gentle, so careful, like he thought she might break.
Sophia thought back to the hug she had given him earlier, his body had been rigid and unmoving, like he didn't know what to do. He was very odd, but he seemed kind. He had given her a birthday present and told her about the bow and arrows. He listened to her questions and answered all of them. He asked her what had she learned in camp and what she already knew. Ed had never done any of those things, he usually ignored her, focusing his attention on catching Carol doing something wrong. She noticed they were kissing now, her face got hot and she ran back to her room, she'd never seen her mom kiss anyone before. Hiding under her purple quilt, she was giggling wildly, she liked seeing her mom happy and laughing with the shy man. She eventually drifted off to sleep with a smile on her sweet face.
Carol's mouth was exploring his, her hands moving over his thick shoulders. He let out a soft grunt when she pulled away, not wanting the moment to end. She was smiling up at him, that wickedly sweet smile that let him know he was in for it. She turned to leave the kitchen, her hips swaying as she walked toward the living room, "She's asleep now."
Daryl swallowed hard, running a hand through wild hair, following her into the other room. Carol wasted no time in getting him onto the couch, her mouth finding his once more. Daryl's hands made their way to her sides, thumbs cautiously brushing the underside of a soft swell. She moaned approvingly, the action setting her off, she managed to pull him down on top of her.
Panic hit full force. Fuck, I'm on top of her, we're lying down. Fuck. Oh fuck. Her hips were moving nonstop, her pelvis rolling upward, desperate for friction. Her jean clad thighs came up to cradle him, her mouth never leaving his. This felt different than the time in his kitchen, he was in control now. He gave an experimental thrust against her, knowing she could feel his erection. Carol responded immediately, arms tightening around him, trying to pull him against her harder, her own hips working with his. His hands were moving frantically over her torso, occasionally finding her breasts. He felt her hand move down his side, sliding between them. He knew what she was doing, he intercepted before she could find his cock, his hand circling her tiny wrist and bringing it to rest against the couch near her head. Daryl sought out her eyes, hoping he wouldn't find any anger or disappointment. She met his gaze and gave a single nod of understanding before attacking his mouth once more. His rough hand still held hers, he left her mouth, giving his full attention to her neck. His mouth never leaving the soft skin, he made his way to her delicate collarbones, sucking and nipping at the freckled flesh.
Carol's mind was going a million miles a minute, the sensations overwhelming. The last man she had sex with was Ed, and it wasn't anything to write home about. She never took any pleasure from the event, she usually just prayed it was over quickly. Ed had stopped demanding her body almost a year before he died, claiming she just wasn't enough for him, that she was disgusting . She'd been relieved, happy to have him take his pleasure from whoever he found drunk enough or desperate enough for cash.
Their movements eventually slowed, becoming lazy, their breathing returning to normal. Daryl rolled to the side, his back to the edge. She turned to face him, her back against the couch, she found his eyes and gave him a soft smirk. Her hand coming up to rest against his scratchy cheek, she planted a chaste kiss on his lips. He returned the kiss and the smile, letting his hand find the dip of her waist. Both unknowingly drifted off to sleep, a smile on each of their faces.
Daryl felt warm and comfortable, he didn't want to wake up but the bright sunlight was hitting his face, making it impossible to sleep any longer. He reluctantly opened his eyes to find a sleeping Carol snuggled against him, her face buried in his chest. They had fallen asleep on her couch which was actually much more spacious than his bed. He carefully pulled himself up from the couch, wanting to let her sleep longer. He covered her with the throw from the back of the couch and smiled as she greedily pulled it tight around her shoulders. Daryl made his way into the kitchen, letting his joints crackle with movement. He was running a hand over his face roughly, letting out a yawn, when he heard a soft, "Good morning," from behind him.
Daryl Dixon was actually startled, he hadn't heard the girl enter the kitchen, "Jesus Christ! You too damn quiet, give a man a heart attack that way!
Sophia stood in her pajamas, giggling, "Sorry," Norman was sitting beside her. She moved to the cupboard, pulled out a box of cereal and retrieved the milk from the fridge. She set the items on the island before going to another cupboard and grabbing two bowls and two spoons. Sophia perched on one of the stools surrounding the island and poured cereal into the two bowls, she looked at Daryl and gave a hesitant smile, hoping he'd catch on. He did, the two sat in silence eating their cereal.
Carol walked into the kitchen to find Sophia and Daryl both seated at the island, a Lucky Charms box between them. Both were taking big spoonfuls of cereal, their hair sticking up at all angles, eyes still hazy with sleep. She smiled at the scene, moving to greet both, "Good morning, honey," she gave Sophia a kiss on the head, "Good morning, honey, " kissing Daryl's rough cheek. She received two Good Mornings garbled through bites of cereal. She just chuckled in response and went about making coffee and doing the dishes from last night.
Sophia had finished her cereal but didn't want to leave the kitchen just yet, she wanted to ask him but was nervous. She kept glancing over at him every few seconds, hoping he would notice and say something first. She eventually gave up on that tactic and chose to go the more direct route, chewing on her lip, fingers twisting each other, "Do…um… do you think that maybe, if you're not busy today, that you could help me with my bow…please?"
Daryl gave a grunt and a single nod. Sophia's eyes were still on him questioningly, she didn't entirely understand the answer. She looked to her mom, hoping she would know. Carol was sipping coffee, she gave her daughter a smile and a reassuring nod. Yes, Daryl will help you and yes, you will eventually learn to speak his language.
The man stood abruptly, stating that he needed to feed Norman and then would return shortly. Carol was leaning against the sink when he approached, waiting for her goodbye kiss. Looking back he found Sophia watching intently, he looked back at Carol nervously and then to Sophia again. He settled on awkwardly kissing her forehead and then quickly walking away, Norman trailing behind him.
Both watched the shy man bolt from their house, only turning to each other once the front door slammed shut. Carol moved to wrap her daughter up in a tight hug, "So, what do ya think?"
Sophia was still leaning against her, "I think I like him, he seems nice. He's just…" her big blue eyes sought out her mom's matching ones, she didn't want to hurt her feelings but she wanted to be honest, "…he's kinda weird."
Carol gave a breathy chuckle at her daughter's response. She could tell Sophia was trying to be diplomatic, searching for the best way to phrase it but falling short. She was a kind girl, she rarely said anything nasty about others but she was honest to a fault. Her wide blue eyes were full of worry, already feeling guilty for the comment.
"He can seem a little strange sometimes, but he's a good man. He just has a hard time with people, he…" How do you describe Daryl Dixon to an eleven year old? How do you explain all of his odd mannerisms and quirks? "Do you remember what Daddy was like?" Sophia gave a concerned nod, wondering what Ed had to do with this? "Well…Daryl's father was a lot like Daddy, he was a cruel man…do you understand?"
Sophia gave her mother another nod and leaned further into her side. She knew all too well what father's could do, what kind of marks they could leave. Her mom had shielded her from most of Ed's violence, taking most of his cruelty upon herself. That didn't stop her from flinching whenever a man raised his voice, or panicking when someone grabbed her arm too tightly. Sophia Peletier knew what father's could do.
Daryl had returned in less than hour with Norman in tow. The four of them made their way to the backyard where Carol tended her flowerbeds, pretending to not watch Sophia with the bow. Norman settled near her on the ground, supervising her weed-pulling. Daryl had created a target of sorts on the large tree at the edge of the backyard and was now going through the finer points of using this particular bow. He was surprisingly patient with Sophia, and the girl was a quick learner. She was taking this very seriously and Daryl appreciated the dedication.
"You wanna be in the Olympics or ya wanna kill shit?"
"Uhh…" Sophia's face was scrunched up, not sure how to answer.
"Alright, go with Olympics fer now," he launched into a lengthy lecture on distance and accuracy and what they would focus on.
From across the yard, Carol was giggling, watching the two interact. Daryl was sitting on the grass, legs crossed, his face serious. Sophia mirrored his position, eyes wide in awe as she took in everything the quiet hunter said, her chin resting on her little hands, her attention never wavering.
Daryl liked that the kid kept quiet and just listened, she wasn't constantly interrupting. She was serious too, she really wanted to learn from him. His nerves were gradually settling, this wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. He adjusted the bow string and got her lined up to take a shot, all the while reiterating everything they had just covered. He stood to her left, watching every movement, she had good form, seemed to take to the bow naturally. Her tiny arm pulled the string back and let go without hesitation, the arrow landed with a thud just two inches from the center of the target.
Sophia's eyes lit up in delight, grinning wide, she turned to him, "Did ya see it? I almost hit the bulls eye!"
Daryl was standing, hands on his hips, eyes squinting against the bright sun, "Yeah I saw. Now do it again," he couldn't help the little smile that formed. He wasn't sure if it was the result of her infectious joy or from the little bubble of pride that surfaced when that arrow sunk into the tree.