~Author's Note: First and foremost I want to wish all of my wonderful readers a very Happy New Year! I hope that it is filled with all the joy and love you deserve. It has to be much better than 2020…yes, 2020, what a surreal and difficult year. Well, I don't want to dwell on the negativity but rather share some positivity. This year wrecked havoc on my creativity…no matter how much I wanted to dive into all sorts of creative pursuits to drown out the difficult world…it just didn't work. Honestly, for months, I struggled with a chapter for "Wasn't Born…" that did not want to cooperate with me, so finally I just nixed it and started fresh and new just a couple of days ago. I was quite pleased with the way it was going and I decided I would do my best to at least get a part of it out before the New Year, if only for myself to feel like I met a goal and accomplished something. It is a short chapter, much like my chapters when I first started writing fic, but at this point, I figured that it is sweet enough in content to share and set the stage for future sweetness to come next chapter. I want to thank any of you who came back to read this after such a long hiatus. Here's hoping that 2021 is a more creative and joyful year for each and every one of us!~


Please…

Daryl caught a whiff of an unfamiliar by totally recognizable smell…the day's bounty slung over his shoulder right along with his crossbow all but forgotten. Couldn't walk a straight line, forced to pick his way through a jumbled graveyard of the remnants of a bygone life…the things he'd left behind when he was a young man. Letting his bow and string of quail slip down his arm, disregarded to the floor, back slid up against the wall, Daryl inched towards the door. A little growl followed by a hmmph then a grrr coming from inside.

"Please…not pink…" This time whispering out loud, the heady scent of paint drifting from the bedroom overwhelming his senses and sense, appraising all the secondhand hodgepodge furniture Beth had somehow managed to drag out of his room into the living room.

He remembered loading cans of paint into the truck on the one and only run they'd undertaken since they officially got home, even carried 'em into the house. But everything that happened in between the start of that run and getting' back…meeting up with Wes and discovering a whole community living and thriving just like he hoped he and Beth would be able to…well, he didn't pay any mind to the paint or its color, observant as he claimed to be.

Cringing away from the screech…like nails on a chalkboard, Daryl peeked around the corner to find Beth dragging a chair across the floor. Climbing up on the rickety thing, precariously perched on her tiptoes, she stretched to reach what he always perceived as a low ceiling with her paintbrush to banish the dingy tint with fresh lightness. It was a silent sigh of relief, but a sigh of relief for Daryl all the same, knowing damn well if she'd painted everything pink 'cause that's what made her happy, he'd eventually be sleeping in a pink room and be happy for it. But…it wasn't pink, instead a faint wash of blue…just a hint, like the color of the summer sky showing through a layer of wispy white clouds.

She'd been more than productive since he'd been gone hunting…whole room was bright and immaculately clean, its darkness so easily covered by a simple coat of paint, the only reminder of what existed before was the last swath of dirty, naked ceiling Beth struggled to tackle.

"Careful now…" Daryl cautioned, moving in to steady her, worried, watching her toes attempt to curl into the slick wooden seat of the chair, placing a steadying hand on her hip just as she started at his voice.

A splash of paint spattered the side of his face…that he felt…but knew his hair took the brunt of the assault, Beth jerking the brush from the ceiling, no doubt an instinctive response to getting startled. Hadn't meant it that way, but…

She smiled down on him, a genuine smile just for him, then her lips widened, a little giggle escaping, appreciating her own artful work on his stubbly had been covered in far worse than paint before but feigned indignation with a furrowed brow and tight pressed lips when she tried to wipe away the splatters with equally coated fingers.

Beth widening her eyes, cheeks raised in amusement at the lost cause he was…nothin' more than a second rate Jackson Pollockpiece…

"C'mon. Shouldn't be up on your tippy-toes. It ain't safe." Catching her around the hips…a frozen moment…forget what he was doing….

Looking up at that beautiful girl…was it like looking at the sun, look too long and you lose your sight? Didn't matter; he couldn't look away…didn't need to see nothin' more in the world to be happy.

Paint-splattered fingers combing through his hair, Beth arched over him, suddenly so still and unassuming, lips parted where he reached up and met her kiss. It was one of those things that was startin' to feel natural, just when it came to him, when he wanted to kiss her for no reason at all, just 'cause he loved her. Just cause he needed the warmth of her soft lips touching his, ever so tenderly…tender…somethin' that used to be foreign to him in the entirety of his life 'til he met Beth.

Not awkward…at least not 'til one of 'em started to think on it too much…

Breaking away and lifting Beth off the chair so she could reach that one last spot of dinge that marred their perfect indoor sky of blue…lost some time in between 'cause…

"You can put me down now…" He'd been staring too long, Beth left soft of voice and self-conscious, like she was too much to bear. Little thing didn't weigh no more than a feather in his arms.

"I got you," Daryl promised, twirling around, Beth stiff and fearful until she finally gave in, tipping her head back, stretching her arms out and closing her eyes, paintbrush slipping free and clunking to the floor.

She was glorious like the sun, so wasn't it him supposed to be revolving 'round her?

Daryl felt it full in his stomach, rising up in his chest…laughter. Full-hearted joy that escaped as a chuckle…still restrained, but learning what it was and how it felt…to embrace joy.

Maybe it was the paint fumes getting to him that made him all dizzy, spinning 'round like an idiot…and it sure in the hell didn't help that the bed was pulled away from the wall…couldn't gauge where it was anymore. It wasn't a fall, more of a sudden trip as he let her slide down from his arms, Beth unsteady, grabbing his shoulders for dear life. He could've righted himself if she hadn't panicked, but crashing into the bed broke their fall. Caught himself hands on each side of Beth, knee driven between her legs nestled in the vee of her thighs, hovering just above her…fixated on her, her breasts heaving beneath the ratty grey t-shirt she wore…he was stilled by the moment. She was flushed, breathless for no reason, and her girlish giggle did nothin' to mask the more intimate possibilities, those sweet sweet lips parted again, full of anticipation …welcoming. Finally freeing his shoulder, Beth grasped the center of his flannel like she was gonna draw him down on her.

"Damn bed…" Shooting up and finding his feet, Daryl hmmphed in feigned amusement, convincing or not.

What in the fuck was he afraid of?

Regretted leaving her the moment he did…all too late, watching the sweet expectation drain from her angelic face.

"Jeez, Beth...need to open the window. Sniff anymore paint fumes and we're both gonna be higher than a kite." Daryl teased, covering his apprehension and anxiety.

At least she had the good grace to give him a small, breathy laugh, leaning up on her elbows and watching him walk away.

Throwing up the window, Daryl allowed the fresh autumn air to clear his mind.


Couldn't sleep. Wasn't no practical or purposeful reason behind it. Didn't feel like there was a need to set a watch. Wasn't insomnia neither…not in the way that left Daryl anxious, twitchy, insides with the queer, itchy feel in the desperate dark hours. It was just his mind wouldn't quiet down…maybe he didn't want it to neither. It was a full moon. Perhaps that had a hand his sleeplessness…the Mourning Moon. At least that's what his people…people 'round here called it when he was young, the November moon. It came from the old world…not the world before the turn, but the old world across an ocean he'd never seen. That tradition passed down to the old timers who never had one day in their life easy. Mourning 'cause of the darkening of the days…when the nights got colder, food got scarce, and losses always seemed to rack up in the winter months…seemed to be the same in the ancient world and the world Daryl grew up in. Didn't know what people called it now…well, the now before the turn…seems he might've heard it referred to as the Frost Moon, but people 'round about these parts kept on calling it what they had for generations. Even when life wasn't hard, it was a reminder. And calling this particular full moon something different didn't get anyone anyplace different now. Those who were alive were all under the same moon. Ironic how with the modern comforts ripped away, the ancient and the present somehow came full circle. Mourning Moon it may've been, but Daryl wasn't sad. Wasn't fearful for the most part. Definitely wasn't morning nothin'…but he honored and respected that past…wouldn't forget just how easy it was to lose something…lose everything. He was grateful for the gentle reminder that nothin' was ever assured.

Daryl sat on the floor, knees drawn up, sheltering in the shadow of the door, but Beth slumbering on the couch so soundly, so unafraid, was awash in the luminous light of the moon filtering through the windows. Pale, almost opalescent, like some otherworldly creature whose true nature was only revealed in the moonlight. So beautiful…

She was tryin' so hard to make this place beautiful too.

After he helped her drag all his furniture back into his…their bedroom…

After he watched her so lovingly make the bed with the new sheets she found for them, smoothing her hand over the wrinkleless surface, simply flipping over the camouflage sleeping bag he used as a comforter, solid khaki green side up…

Everything had a new perspective…a new light. He didn't even recognize it anymore.

It was calling to her…he knew it…the bed…but even though Beth might not know every facet of him, the reasons that sometimes were even a mystery to him…Beth understood, gracefully consigning herself to the couch with him for another night…because as she said, the paint fumes might still be too strong.

Becoming even more acutely aware of the dark shadow cast upon him by the solid panel door…

There was a door that briefly caught his eye back at the hardware store…a fancy, light-colored door with an intricate cut and leaded oval glass window at its center. Wasn't hard to close his eyes and imagine the moon's glow dancing through that. Maybe he…they could go back for it. Would she think it was beautiful? He could justify it…it was made of steel after all. That would be safer and sturdier than what they had hanging off the hinges now.

When in the hell did he come up with such fanciful notions?

Rolling up on his knees, twisting around to look out the window, it was so bright…sky must've been totally clear. Inching closer to Beth, she was still spattered in paint she'd forgotten to wipe away. A streak of blue across her cheek turned metallic in the moonlight, and the tiny spatters in her hair glinted like stardust. He didn't wanna wake her from the dream world holding her close and safe…

Reaching out to trace the silver moonbeam painted down her face…

He didn't wanna wake her, not really…but he couldn't not …


They always said candlelight was the most flattering light. Who they were, she didn't really know, and whether that was true or not, Beth really had no opinion before everything changed. But in these times, in the night, they lived by candle or they lived in the dark, flattery wasn't part of the equation.

There was a memory though that that tugged at her heart…

…she'd begun to understand love sitting at a table surrounded by tea-candles… …oh…

So, smiling softly to herself, Beth conceded that candles had their own special magic…a magic that was separate from the deceptive nature of flattery.

One thing of which she was certain, moonlight was the most beautiful. Seeing everything and nothing. Knowing who was beside you and what was all around you. Knowing in vivid detail what Daryl looked like…his sharply cut cheeks, his blunt nose, those piercing blue eyes that cut through the bullshit but sparkled and softened when he focused on her…even if now she could only see little facets of him. His silhouette or the glint in his eyes, the way the light caught his pearly teeth chewing at his lip. Or his skin…the flesh on the back of his hand when he swiped the hair out of his face, it appeared almost as pale as hers under the moon's gentle touch. Moonlight was like faith, the grace of not seeing everything but knowing what was right beside you.

Beth wondered if he could see her smile, or did he just know like faith, if he heard her small sigh at taking in the extraordinary beauty around them or just knew how special she felt every moment was? It wasn't cool…not at all…but the steam rose in hazy patches off the placid surface of the rock pool he'd led her to. And it was as if the moon poured its elegantlight just over their little clearing in the woods illuminating the crystal waters, the stars and moon reflecting back at themselves, a mirror of nature'sperfection. She stretched out her foot, crossing the threshold from where she sat…where Daryl placed the quilt on the border between light and shadow, moon and night, the very edge of darkness, kicking her boot off to be almost instantly joined by its mate, wiggling her toes in the cool grass that grew, although sparsely, almost up to the edge of the hot spring.

Their journey through a fallen world led them to their own Eden…perfect and inviolate; even the shadows of the…her past, no matter how recent, couldn't corrupt it.

"Wha…what are 'ya doin'…?"

Beth had been lost in the moments betweenshedding her boots, rising to her feet with the kind of feminine grace that so often escaped her and drawing her shirt over her head. Daryl's voice tethered her to reality, the small stammer in his question endeared him to her but amplified her own shyness just as his emerged.

"You didn't bring me all the way out here just to look at it, did you?" Beth could be bold, ask with brazen courage because she wasn't looking at him, instead her body yearning to immerse itself in the warm waters.