Author's Notes: As I promised! Another update! This idea started out so simply in my head… and then it kind of just evolved in its own. I do hope you enjoy the emotions I try to evoke here, and the hurt and comfort element that I always try to insert in their story. I love you guys! Thank you for sticking through this ride with me… and all of my ups and downs! Enjoy and note the M rating.
Benediction
Is it war if you fight it?
Is it love when you don't?
There is more when you let go
Of the fear that you can't
As we burn in the fire
Slowly learning to breathe
Just keep calm in the falling
Always looking for an underneath
Imagine it's a warning sign
I don't wanna lose more time
Darling, don't you close your eyes
Keep listening - are you listening?
I'm sorry we don't have forever
Ooh... but come die with me
There's a knock in the silence
I see death at the door
But I know we'll be alright
Cause your hands are still warm
The day the smoke starts rising
And all the bombs fall down
Don't wanna be the ones caught hiding
Wanna see the sky when it hits the ground
Imagine it's a warning sign
I don't wanna lose more time
Darling, don't you close your eyes
Keep listening - are you listening?
I'm sorry we don't have forever
Ooh... but come die with me
-Luke Sital-Singh
Time passed between the two lovers, in a haze of need and relief, only to have that burning need rise up repeatedly, higher and more demanding than before. They ate when their bodies demanded sustenance and slept when they had come so many times that the angel's body was exhausted, only to be woken up once again by scorching hot kisses and tenderly grasping palms.
The hours passed, and then nights followed; each second of its torrent spent in a tantric cycle of need and carnal longing— with her husband taking her in the bed, on the floor, up against the wall, in the kitchen… everywhere… again and again and again. They explored each other's bodies and desires in the dim light of the chamber, her name was constantly on his lips, just as his taste was in her mouth. Sweat or cum, she licked it off his body like it was the sweetest wine, flowing down on hallowed veins. His fingers knew just where to touch her, his mouth and tongue unlocking pleasure hidden deep within her body higher than ever before… Until there was nothing beyond the four walls of their room, beyond their bed, their bodies joined in euphoric ecstasy of consummate fire that healed him miraculously, with his every angel's divine and fevered touch.
Daryl stroked his fingers down Beth's back as she rocked above him, the water in their tub sloshing onto the stone floor as they bathed together, her legs wrapped around his waist, his rigid flesh buried deep inside her body while they breathed in the intoxicating steam and mist of honeysuckle and rain colliding in the air. Bolts of exhilarating delirium coursed in their bodies as he guided her, in and out, giving in more daringly the hunger growing inside them, building the intensity of each sensation until every dive inwards was met with an outwards rush of blinding ecstasy .
"I- I can't…" she murmured, her expression pained and tortured as she swiveled her hips in an exquisite roll while the electricity building inside her threatened to explode. Her lips were trembling, along with the rest of her…. Begging… begging… for release or for salvation… she did not know.
"Yea… you can…" he grunted, tightening his grip around her hipbones while he slammed inside her harder while her knees began to buckle. "I know you can…" her growled against her neck, biting it ever so gently while her nails scraped crimson trails across the scars on his back.
"it—it's too much! I can't!" Beth insistently whimpered, fearing that she just might break into a million shattered fragments if he made her succumb to yet another climax. (This would be her sixth—or seventh- or was it eighth—since they had woken up, though she actually had no idea how many hours have passed since then.) All she could do was absorb their converging pleasure as she relinquished all control over to her ravenous husband while she rode him in sweet, sweet agony.
He made no reply to her, only groaning loudly as he pulled her, thrusting deep again and again, over and over until all her words were lost in her tongue and the angel helplessly succumbed to the ravaging storm of their desires. His teeth scraped over her collarbones, up her throat then her ear, sending hot breaths crashing against her vermillion skin. "Come for me, baby…" he growled, and she couldn't stop herself from shivering, before complete rapture consumed her and set her aflame.
"Oh n-no, oh.. no, Oh no! " Beth cried, screaming loudly as her carnal rhapsody ripped her apart, scorching through her like wildfire and wringing her ragged around him in violent waves. It was exhausting torture… it was crashing bliss. It was harrowing hell… it was riveting heaven. It was too much… It was never enough. The seraph gripped his shoulders, her nails scouring his skin as her name fell from his lips in platitudes of pleas to the heavens.
God, she was glorious. Her aurulent hair draping around her body like a halo of fire, her lush curves so soft and pliable, molded perfectly for him. His head fell back, eyes closed as his release burned through his veins ruthlessly, and she feels him. Actually feels every course of his pleasure fill her from inside, while he drowned in the sensation of their combined cosmic spasms. Her head fell forward, resting against his shoulder as she breathed deeply and her beloved held her close, his arms wrapping around her back as they rode out the waves of their undulating euphoria.
The moment stretched on, and Daryl found himself enjoying the intimacy of simply holding her to him, sated and satisfied, until Beth lifted herself up from his lap so that she can place herself between his muscular thighs. The water on the tub was cold now, yet still so deliciously fragrant with the aroma of their sweat pervading the sultry air.
"Mmmm…" the seraph murmured, out of breath yet smiling as she lied between Daryl's legs, her back to his front with his chin resting on top of her head. "That… was…."
Mind-blowing? Earth-Shattering? Life-Altering? The angel wrecked her brain to find out the right words to convey her thoughts.
"…. Not enough." he breathed, twisting her head sideways to salaciously lick the bottom of her lips. Beth couldn't help but giggle at the insatiability of her lover, returning his kisses but making no move to leave their comfortable position just yet.
"Slow down.." the blonde softly laughed, pushing his cheeks an inch away from hers so that their silver-blue gazes would meet. "Believe me, I want more as much as you do… but…." She pouted slightly, gaining Daryl's concern and distracting him from his unrelenting lust.
"But what?" he stuttered, suddenly alert for any discomfort in her head. He swept her face and searched for pain in her eyes, wondering if he had pushed her too far that her brain might swell again. "Is it your head?" he hissed, his fingers tenderly scraping her damp scalp but avoiding that tender zone that refused to completely heal.
"No… that's not it." She replied, pressing his insistent hand down to her lap. "I'm cold… I'm sore… and I'm pruny." She smiled, showing him the state of her alabaster skin, slightly shrunken around her fingers and toes from staying in the water too long.
In a split second, the archer rose from the tub, his heart constricting with slight guilt for having neglected his duties to his beloved miracle. He stepped on the cold stone bathroom floor and shook the water of his hair, before reaching for a pair of yellow cotton towels- one to tie around his waist and the other, for her. She reached for his outstretched arm and he lifted her up to him, before accepting his offered towel and drying herself off as well.
Beth wrapped the towel around her chest and reached out for Daryl, motioning him to lean against the counter so she could rub his towel around his soft, dripping, brown hair. The hunter couldn't help but hum low with approval, relishing the tender way her nimble fingers deftly rubbed languid circles around his scalp. "Keep doing tha'…" he requested, his knuckles white against the marble sink while he leaned in to her touch. A low rumble escaped his throat, a sort of low and contented sound.
The angel smiled at his lupine satisfaction, and threaded her fingers torturously slower around his head. "Your hair's getting too long…" she whispered lazily, as she caressed her fingers through the wet tendrils and ran her nails through his scalp. The archer grunted, agreeing with her yet finding no need to explain. He wasn't known for his vanity after all, and there were many other things he had been focusing on instead of the length of his mane.
"Can you even see through it anymore?" she raised her eyebrows, tugging at the damp strands just to see how far it truly reached over his eyes.
Daryl scoffed at her with a smirk, replying steadily though not leaving her grasp. "I see just fine. It don't get in the way much." This did nothing to comfort her however. Slight worry still roiled inside her at his reply, wondering if this would impede his vision in combat and cause him a fatal mistake. Her eyes softened in a moment after… upon realizing that the predicament had an easy fix.
"What if I cut it? Would you let me?" Beth asked him sweetly, giving him her most beguilingly innocent smile while she batted her lashes, wide and doe-eyed and strikingly cerulean in a way that she knew he could never oppose. Not that she needed to anyway… he bore no attachment to his hair, and he wouldn't refuse a request as simple as hers.
" 'Course…." He muttered, gliding one thumb over the faintest scar on her cheek before resuming his task of drying him and his angel off. "If that's what y' want…"
"Really?" she gasped. He replied with a slow, thoughtful nod. "Just don't make me look like I did before the turn…." He muttered low and rough.
"That ain't who I am anymore…" the archer whispered, but made no actual sound.
"Wait right here." Beth squealed in delight, suddenly excited at the prospect of grooming her brutish protector. She was so giddy with his approval that she couldn't help but clap her palms together before leaving the bathroom in a haste to find the supplies she needed. The angel disappeared before his eyes through the door, and he waited for her return patiently with an amused expression on his lips. It was so easy to make her happy sometimes, finding elation in otherwise simple and menial gestures such as when he would kiss her knuckles, or when they shared a meal or a bath together, and apparently, when he allowed her to take reign over the state of his hair. If only life were as simple as it had seemingly been for the past few days of their time together, then he would be able to spend all of his time discovering every single way to make his wife keep smiling with joy in her eyes.
"Hey! What's taking so long?" Daryl teased, calling out for her from the bathroom while he put on his boxers and his pants. Draping the towel over his head and rippling shoulders, he pulled the door open, only to find himself breathless and crumbling to the ground in terror at the vision before him.
"Stop! Daryl, what are you doing?!"
She was screaming at him, screaming at the top of her lungs yet her voice never echoed in the air. Her heard her clear as day however, yet chose to ignore her, only pressing the embers of his cigarette even deeper down the skin of his hand.
"Stop it! Please! Stop it!" her phantom cried, trying her best to grab the searing stick of tobacco away from his fingers, but failing...the ghost of her only passing through his solid hands whenever their touch collided. She wept for him, heartbroken in his torment, as he continued to inflict himself the pain that he thought he deserved. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" she whimpered, her ghostly fingers reaching for his brows, though she knew that she was a mere mirage.
"Because…" he replied to her, a hollow whisper leaving his lips as he spoke to the hallucination of her.
"I can't feel anything." It was a lie however, and they both knew it. He felt everything; felt the excruciating sorrow of her untimely death, felt the cold loneliness of her sudden absence, felt the gaping hole in his heart and soul that could never be filled by the ghost of her alone.
He was burning himself because it felt great— almost to a point of relief, because for once since the three weeks of his godforsaken life that he had spent drowning in the grief of her death, he felt something else, something less painful than the never-ending misery, wreaking havoc in his flimsy, battered heart.
""Please… stop doing this to yourself." she moaned, kneeling before him with blank, glassy grey eyes that had streams of silver tears cascading through her ethereal cheeks.
"You're hurting me…"
Even in her death… he could never bear to cause her pain. Slowly his fingers receded, taking with it the angry ashes that had branded his exquisite pain in his flesh. It was a vivid hole, angrily scorching with wisps of smoke that would leave a scar within him as permanent as the one that the angel had inflicted upon his soul. At least this way he would never forget…
Never forget the sensation of his existence disintegrating into nothing but sorrow… never forget the reminder that he had failed the only one he ever truly loved… never forget that he once held heaven in his arms only to have foolishly let it fade away…. Never forget the fact the he used to be somebody's, yet now he was just his own…
"Did you think about that… when you decided to leave me?" he whispered at her, though his lips never moved. She heard him anyway. "Did you think about how it would hurt me? Even for a second?" he continued. There was a foreign fluid running down his cheeks, which he didn't recognize at first. Then a sob broke through his chest and he realized that he too… was in tears.
"Of course, I did…" she replied. "You're always in my head."
"No you didn't." he cried. "You decided to leave me.. for nothing… for no one…"
There was no stopping his tears now, not that he was finally able to break the ever present dam in his heart that refused to buckle despite the anguish in his soul.
How could she do that to him? Leave him… just like that. He knew he never would.
But then again… he always knew he loved her more than she was ever capable of loving him.
"I don't think I'm gonna make it Beth…" he whimpered, reaching for her cheeks, only to have his heart lurch when he felt nothing but air in his fingers and her face flickered in a transparent mist.
" I told you… I don't think I can live without you anymore…"
"Don't say that…" the angel wept, flinging her arms around his shoulders, though no warmth nor sensation passed through their skins. It was almost too cruel… to see her like this. To see her vibrant and pink and shivering before him… as if she was real… as if she was actually alive…
"You have to survive for me, Daryl… No matter what." The phantom begged him, though he only shook his head in vehemence.
"I – I don't know how… " he spoke to her in silence, his shoulders rising and ebbing in the heaviness of his breath. What was the point of fighting anymore, when he had lost all that he had been living for?
All he had ever wanted was to share a life with her…
He didn't think he would be able to live another day if he had to feel this incessant sorrow for another second… if he had to fill his lungs yet another breath of white-hot fire.
She trembled around him, sweeping his brows so that he may look up at her lightless eyes, though no sensation passed his skin. "… If- If you have to forget about me to live with yourself… then do it. If it's the only way…" The vision of her would go away, along with all memories of their time together, if only he so chose. Though the last remaining part of her would die in his heart… it would give him the relief that he has been yearning for.
He only needed to ask.
"I can't." He huffed, not even considering her suggestion for a second. How could she even ask that of him? How could he possibly bury the only memories in his mind that had given him true happiness? Forget how heaven felt in his arms… forget what an angel's lips tasted like… forget what it was to actually feel and give love for once in his life?
He would bitterly choose eternal torment that ever live a second, without the memory of her in his heart.
"You have to." She wailed, trying to shake his shoulders yet making to difference as a mere mirage.
"Or—or it kills you... here." the seraph grimaced as she pressed her fingers to his achingly thunderous heart, banging against his protesting ribs.
Of course she would say that. Repeat those damned words that had convinced him to burn down a moonshine shack and marry her in the process, damning his soul unwittingly for all eternity. Those words had marked the beginning of their nuptials… and if he heeded her ghost's advice… then those words would mark the end of it as well.
And maybe he could finally be free.
"NO." he replied, allowing his tears to accompany the burden of his curse. "I promised… I won't forget you." The archer croaked. "Not a single thing about you…"
It was an easy decision, though its consequences would be unlivable. He would suffer the loss of her love, until his dying breath. Forever would be a long time in his lonesome… but he did vow his complete devotion to her until his death and forever after that. He would never break his oath, no matter how high the price was to pay.
"Then put all the bad memories away… put away the rings, put away the car, put away the hospital and everything else after that." she replied, "Just… bury it all, bury it until its gone…"
"Wou- would that be alright?" he begged her, reaching for her wild flaxen strands floating in the air. "Would y'forgive me if I did that?" He would do anything, anything not to see the last seconds of her life every time he closed his eyes.
"I do.." she cried, kissing him without warmth on his sweat mottled brows.
"… I will."
"Do whatever you need to, to survive…" the angel whimpered, crying in his arms. Though she was nothing but a mere replication of the woman he adored so fervently, she still longed for his salvation as equally as the seraph who truly possessed the slivers of his broken heart.
"As long as you keep yourself breathing, then the rest of me will stay alive in your heart…"
"Daryl! Daryl! Tell me what's wrong!"
Beth was running to the archer, who had suddenly dropped to his knees before her, his azure eyes ghosting with a chilling shade of gray while he stared at her paralyzed with sordid angst. The sound of a metal pair of scissors clanged on the floor as she dropped it from her grasp, leaving the chair she was dragging toppling down the ground along with the silver shears.
It was a terrifying and sobering sight to behold… her beloved, always so strong and collected… supplicated at her feet with utmost terror on his eyes while he peered up at her… as if he was looking at a ghost. The happiness bubbling in her chest evaporated in an instant, replaced by a violent prickling in her skin as the blood drained from his face.
The sensation of his very own memories crashing down on him creeped through the capillaries of his body, sending him quaking before her as he stared at his beloved, her hair gathered up in the same way that she had always worn it until the day of her death. But it wasn't that which sent him over the edge, but the sight of a pair of scissors tight on her grip while a yellow fabric wrapped around her body. It was all too much, too quickly, and all of a sudden, the poor desolated man could not differentiate reality between the vivid nightmare of her demise ghosting in his eyes.
Tears begin to prickle in his lids.
"Too late. Always too late. Too late. Too late. Too late." He mumbled again and again, not moving as he stared at her impassively with dread in his heart. The frantic blonde shook him, wondering what had triggered him so far into his despair in a matter of seconds.
"Daryl, please! Talk to me!" she calls out to him in desperation, lightly slapping his face to no avail. She falls to her knees before him, prostrated in the same helpless position as her beloved while she held him pathetically in her arms.
He blinks at her once, brushing his fingers through the sunken arches of her cheeks, though the light didn't pass his gaze. "Are you real?" he murmurs, softly but without emotion. It was almost a relief to hear him talking to her once again, but there was no life in his voice but a shallow rasp. He caresses her by her ponytail and finds himself wondering if the sensation on his fingers was just a figment of his cruel imagination.
Heartbreak, loss and despair swelled in her heart and she began to choke on his grief. She yanked the rubber band that tied up her strands of silk and ripped it off, sending her wild aurulent mane cascading down to her shoulders in wondrous waves and curls. "Yes! It's me, Daryl… It's me."
It was too much to see him like this, too much to catch a glimpse of his misery that was coming down on him in a traumatizing flashback. This image of her strong protector… who was really still trying to put the pieces of himself together, abused and loveless all his life… only to be haunted again and again by the demons he had tried to bury in the recesses of his bones. He looked so lost as he gazed at her… so forlorn and exhausted… carrying a secret curse as he fell apart like a wounded bird with a punctured lung.
Beth pressed Daryl against her ribs and laid his head on her chest, beseeching her beloved to snap out of his trance. She felt the rawness of his wounds, ones that persisted inside him that mere needle and thread would never close. She would have to fight to bring him back… would have to use whatever powers she held inside her to save him from himself.
"Come back to me… please come back to me.." she whispered, gliding her lips through the expanse of eyes and cheeks and lips, sweeping her fingers through his overgrown fringes to swipe away the remnants of his horrors. "I'm alive… and so are you."
She wouldn't need to try much harder though, as his pulse simmered lower while her warmth seeped into his skin and anchored him once again back to earth. She fought the bile in her throat as nausea crashed on her and he found himself blinking, once.. twice… followed by a flurry of concern as he grazed his palms and cupped her cheeks.
His expression softens, vaguely realizing that she had caught him in his rare moments when his trauma would overcome all his senses beyond comprehension. He had been doing so well in keeping his flashbacks in control, yet one moment of weakness had sent him crumpling to the ground. He never meant to share with her his distress.
The archer cleared his throat and apologized to her, his voice soft and meek as he cradled her frightened body in his arms. Beth refused to accept his apology, crooning him back to life as she kissed him again and again. "We're okay.." she mumbled, repeating her words softly in his ears until the two of them have shuddered their fright away. The yellow towel covering her body had slipped away from her, revealing alabaster, translucent skin, marred with the faintest most beautiful scars that reminded him that she was strong… that she was alive.
His gaze drifted from her to the scissors forgotten on the floor, and he cursed the damned thing for triggering him so hard. "Don't ever hold those fucking things ever again." He huffed, almost jokingly as he wringed his arms around her waist to pull her, staring at the metal shears like it was a snake coiled and ready to snap at his beloved wife. He never knew he could possess so much hatred for an inanimate object until now, and as idiotic as it seemed to the rest of the world, he didn't think he would ever bear to use those tools again. Not after the sight of it had signified her reckless death.
She flung her limbs around his neck and sobbed, this time apologizing on her behalf for thoughtlessly giving him a flashback of that fateful day at Grady. "I'm so sorry." She moaned, burying her nose to the crook of his throat to breath in the scent of her in his skin. "I wasn't thinking." She admitted, though in her defense, he didn't think that such a trivial matter would suffuse such a terrorized reaction inside him either.
"I'm fine, angel." He murmured, gliding his lips to the crown of her head, reveling at the way she filled his lungs with the breath of life. "I'm fine now…"
"I was so scared…" she whimpered, unwilling to let him go as a fresh bout of tears threatened to overflow again. "I've never seen you like that before…"
"Sorry.." Daryl replied, palming his face in shame for putting herself in the difficult position of yanking him from his trance. "Thought I got that shit under control." He mumbled, referring to the aftermath of all his trauma that had embedded itself on his brain despite his earnest attempts at burying his ghosts to the ground.
"You mean… you've been like that before?" Beth rasped, her voice trailing at the horrific thought of his suffering all along. He nodded slowly, confirming her darkest fears in the simplest of motions, and she found herself silently weeping for her beloved, weathered and spent in her tender hold. She wondered if that was what was going to happen to her, days, weeks, maybe months from now if she was lucky, when she finds herself facing an unknown trigger that would remind her of her own personal grief at the sight of almost losing him. Would that be another curse that the two of them would share?
The past had always been an inescapable prison for tainted souls such as theirs.
"It's gotten better though." The hunter relented, consoling her to abate the worry creased in her brows. "I ain't had one since you've been back… didn't think I'd have another one t'tell ya the truth." He spoke softly, brushing her hair from her chest to behind her smooth, pearlescent shoulders. "Y' just caught me off-guard."
The rogue nodded hastily, making a mental note never to tie her hair up like that again, for his sake and her own. She stood from the floor where they laid and lifted him up with her, dragging him with his arms towards their bed while she kicked the scissors far away from their sight. "No yellow, no ponytail, no scissors. Got it." She huffed making sure that all was in order before she retreated back to his side.
The archer was staring at their reflection through the floor mirror that stood in front of them, and she couldn't help but notice the heaviness that he carried in his shoulders, and the gloominess in his eyes. He looked like he was carrying a thousand years' worth of burden, like he had crawled through a million miles of soot and ashes to find his way back to her.
Beth stared at him through the pristine pane of mirror, leaning her head against him while they stared at each other in profound silence. She broke the quite with her parted lips. "It's all the in past you know… it's all gone…"
"You don't have to hold on to it anymore…"
He scoffed at her involuntarily, somewhat bitter over how easily it was for her to let go of the past, especially since she had the gift and the curse of having amnesia that she fought so hard to overcome. "Easy for you t'say." Daryl muttered.
"You ain't never had any problem forgettin' bout me."
Initially, Beth would have been hurt at his accusation, but she had long been accustomed at the way her reticent lover lashed out with words whenever he was overcome with hurt. She paid no heed to his insensitivity, and instead rose from the bed, only to return to him with their ivory dagger at her hand.
The impassioned man raised his gaze at her in their reflection, his eyes raising in question at the blade that she grasped. The angel didn't smile at him, but peered at his ocean-gray irises with kindest of stares. She began to thread her fingers around the dampened strands of his hair, and sliced it deftly, in slow careful strokes.
He grabbed her by her hips and steadied her, his eyes never leaving her vision while she worked her way around reshaping his mane with their treasured blade. "What are you doin'?" he whispered, soft and guilt-wracked at the tenderness of her motions. Shouldn't she be yelling back at him right now? Yet here his wife stood, focused and endearing, as she snared inches off his overlong brown hair with the lightest of touch.
"Hush…" she hummed at him, decidedly working on her own without distractions. "I'm trying to show you something…" the angel breathed delicately. Wisps of his locks floated to the ground, and smoldering irises traced the willows of the seraphs curves upon their silver reflection.
Minutes passed and Beth was done, taking two steps backwards to admire her own handiwork. Her paramour looked so much younger this way, with his hair framing his face so perfectly, the same way that it had at the peak of their relationship beyond their life at the prison. "There." She sighed at him, directing his gaze from hers to his own likeness across from him.
"Now you look just like the man I married." She grinned, swiping her palms across his scalp to brush away the last of his nicked locks. He understood what his seraph was doing for him, understood the truth she was trying to tell:
He gets to start again with her. With a clean slate. With no shackles of their horrid past to stand in the way of the future they shared.
If only it were all that easy.
"But I'm not…" he spoke defeatedly, his eyes lowering but not leaving hers. "I'm really not…"
"I'm not the same man you married anymore." The archer whispered, broken and full of regret.
"Don't you think I know that?" the moonlit goddess replied. "It's not like I'm the same person I was a year and a half ago either… I know a lot of things have changed."
"But you still love me right? And I still love you…" she whispered, kissing him on his brows while she stared at him through the mirror. "All the broken, dark, twisted pieces of you… that you try to hide away from me."
"I think that's all I am now'days." He huffed, lowering his elbows to lean upon his lap. She had only began to witness the depravity within him. Beth had no idea how further into the darkness he would be willing to succumb, to treasure her.
"Hey…" she murmured, cupping his jaws to raise his face towards her. Not her reflection upon the mirror— but her, in her utmost adoration and ardor that seeped through his every pore. "For better or for worse, remember?"
"We'll heal together… somehow. We always have." Her voice was cracking with the sincerest pain. She leaned against his forehead, her sweat mingling with his while they suffered the same torment. He held on to her placing chaste kisses on her lips again and again while the last of his tears faded away.
"I don't need to heal Beth…" Daryl murmured, breathing her in between the syllables on his tongue. "I just need t'make sure I never lose you again." He was used to having to endure this amount of misery. The fervid archer just didn't think he would be able to handle any more.
"How about I make you a promise?" the seraph answered, reaching for his palms in hers. "Another… addition… to our vows."
He held her gaze ardently this time, curiosity getting the best of him as his heart thrummed against the cages of his ribs. She had promised him everything already… what more could he possibly ask? There would be nothing that he could offer back to her in return.
"I promise to you… Daryl Dixon… that from now on, whatever our future has in store for us, I will spend every minute of it by your side. I will never leave you… no matter what... If we live, then we'll live together…"
He knew what she was going to say, yet he didn't want to hear to price he had to pay. Only one could be selfless in this relationship, and it would always be him. Even though he never wanted to lose her… the distraught hunter would ache to know that his miracle would choose to perish along with him. He couldn't possibly allow her to emblaze it in their vows.
She finished her words before he was able to stop her, however; uttering the last of her eternal oath before he could even release a single breath. Lightning struck his heart as his angel sealed her promise with a kiss, forever embedding the course of their destinies, weaving the threads of her fate along the tapestry of his.
"But you promised me once before that you would follow me in my death … so it's only fair that I promise you this too… I will follow you in yours Daryl... in heaven, in hell, even if nothing waited for us outside this life…"
"Nothing will ever tear us apart ever again… not walkers, not Negan, not even god himself… will ever keep me away from you. You will never lose me ever again." Beth solemnly swore.
And though Daryl felt the immediate consecrating relief from the depth of her vows… a part of him wondered if it was wise to challenge the will of the universe… and whoever created it in its immense power, whom overlooked among the star-crossed lovers with utmost attention.
It didn't matter however. At least… not right now.
Instead, the archer swung his wife's body, and pinned her to their bed. He claimed the soft petals of her lips uttering beatified whispers in rolling symphonies. She was the earth, bounteous as the spring, and for now… it would be enough to delve into the wells of her moonlit warmth from which he drank. His hands, like bird wings, brushed her the waterfalls of her hair, and her birdsong rose in answer to his sweetest prayers, a melody that calmed his tattered soul even as the fiery flames of their sorrow beat down them like the hot summer of his desire. The hunter prayed, and the angel answered… this Giving Goddess of the Moon and Hunt. He tasted her nectar is everlasting sips and spread himself over her like wings unfurling for flight, and wondered if maybe… he had wings of his own.
Daryl sank to her core, to the Earth's core and reveled at it's heat. Her magmatic flow that brought ecstatic flood and rain stirring from within him. If she was the Earth, then he was her Sky. They would eternally ever be One, by the mercy and benediction of God upon their souls.
And they both deserved a little mercy for their love… didn't they?
End Notes: I had so many butterflies writing this. I hope you had them too. I will make an effort to bring some lightheartedness sometime soon but I just follow where my muse goes. I hope you guys liked this chapter and the many more to come.
