Not particularly fond of this one, but I'm posting it anyway.
Post season 2/the fall of Hershel's farm. Carol and Daryl talk about a few late-night cravings.
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Sometimes, when the growls of her empty stomach are louder than the growls of the dead, she plays a game, a silly one, and she makes him join in. Tonight, they've already made their way through the appetizers, the main course; she's dreaming up her favorite desserts, his arms wrapped tight around her (just for warmth, that's all), his mouth at her ear. "Death by Chocolate."
"Banana puddin'."
"Chocolate chip cookies."
"Warm apple pie."
"With ice cream?"
"Hell, yeah."
"Fudge."
"Chocolate pudding?"
She nods, thinks of her girl, meets Carl's sleepy blue eyes across the way.
"Save some for me."
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