3rd Person POV

"Why me?" It's about time he got an answer to this question. "I ain't exactly sunshine and rainbows."

Eve looked at him, blinking in surprise. "True but if you were listening, you'd remember I said, I like the dark."

Daryl blinked, and an amused smile parted the woman's lips before contentment took its place. "I don't really know why. It was just kinda… there, one day."

Daryl could understand that. The same had happened to him.

He remembers just looking at 'er one day and realizing he trusted 'er(more like their dynamic was pointed out by a 3rd party, and he put the pieces together later).

"As hotheaded as you can be—" Daryl's eye twitched but he couldn't deny it, because he knew it was true. "—you're honest."

That took him by surprise. He'd never thought of himself as honest before.

"You don't try to hide stuff. I mean as far as I can tell." Eve eyed him with playful suspicion, and earned herself an eye roll and shoulder knock.

"Maybe that's why." A thoughtful look crossed her face, pursing her lips. "I never have liked being out of the loop, or things being kept from me. Secrets."

"Yeah you ain't too good at keepin 'em. As soon as ya open your mouth it's out." Daryl snorted at the whack on the arm. But he had a point.

Eve doesn't open her mouth often but when she does, ohhhh lordie-poo. And here she thought she was a vault.

Turns out it's really easy to keep a secret when you don't talk to anyone but as soon as someone's listening, there goes the floodgate.

She's gotta work on that.

Fire light glinted off amber eyes; never having looked more aflame than now, when she stares into a fire with a smile. But it was a warm flame. The kind that doesn't burn, yet keeps you from freezing.

Eve yawned, stretching stiff shoulders as she stood; trying to restore blood flow to pretty much her entire lower body.

"Should get some sleep." Daryl stood, wiping the dust from his hands on his jeans.

Eve nodded in wholehearted agreement, trying to stifle another yawn. She was beat. It's amazing how exhausting emotions are. Feeling stuff really takes its toll.

"Night, Eve" Daryl went to his tent as Eve started her trek back to camp

"Night, Daryl" Eve gave a halfhearted wave, stepping over uneven ground, as they parted ways for the night.

To some it may have seemed abrupt or felt off but for them, the interaction felt natural; on it's way to becoming something of a routine in recent days.

Eve's POV

I woke up the next morning and as usual, had trouble pulling myself out of bed. But eventually I managed to wrangle my half-asleep mind into auto-pilot.

Getting up, putting on my shoes, tying back my rats nest of a mane, and went out into the morning sunlight, rubbing my tired eyes with a yawn.

Thank goodness Carol & Lori haven't started cooking breakfast yet, because if I smelled those eggs —or anything else those goddesses throw in a pan— before my run, I would not be able to make myself do it before eating.

And running on a full stomach is not the greatest idea. I learned that lesson the hard way a long, long time ago.

I stretched, warming up, and did 3 or 4 laps around the farm before others started peeling themselves from their cozy tents and getting up for the day, but my endurance is much lower than it used to be.

I don't remember why I stopped running but it feels nice to get back into the routine.

However, I think I'm going to switch to running at night. Because 1) it's too early for this. 2) Dragging myself out of bed is harder than I remember. And 3) exhausting myself before the day even begins seems counter intuitive. Tiring myself out before sleep instead of after, seems like a better idea.

It's a bit of a bummer realizing how rusty I've gotten in such a short amount of time. I didn't think you get rusty at running but apparently it's possible. That or I'm still half asleep. Which is entirely possible.

It's coming back quick though, so I guess I'll just have to be patient and stick it out before I can push myself like I used to.

Which reminds me, I should see if I can find a way to practice MMA again.

I mean, I use it all the time to take walkers down but I'm always using knives or kill moves.

I haven't used it on a living, cognitively functioning person in a long time.

I don't want to get used to my opponent's moves being predictable and then not being able to disarm someone, much less without killing them.

Ideally I'd like a sparring partner but no one else here knows martial arts of any kind, from what I know.

The officers might be my best bet there, they probably know some sort of physical combat. They were law enforcement. I could try my luck but Rick's pretty busy these days, and I don't think I could keep it to just sparring if I asked Shane.

Maybe a few weeks ago I could have, but not now. I don't fancy having another panic attack, and let's be honest, I could hurt someone if I'm armed with so much as a stick, in that state.

For now I might be able to just practice on my own. Starting with the strength training I used to do. I can probably pick up from where I left off. I know I haven't lost my muscle mass. If anything, I've gained some.

It's my lungs that seem to have fallen behind. They need to get used to working hard again so I don't run out of breath so quick.

The smell of food caught my nostrils and my eyes drew straight to camp. I can't see who all is up yet, but that is definitely Carol by the smoking fire, and if I'm not mistaken that's Glenn by the tree, eating something.

My stomach grumbled as I licked my lips, my foot already moving to take me that way but I stopped myself mid-step.

No. Strength training first, then I can eat.

Another lung full of the sweet smell of food made my mouth water.

Oh gosh, this is gonna be hard.

The rest of the week went by quick, with pretty much the same routine I'd laid out for myself.

I woke up, did my strength training to grant myself food (glorious food~), then hung out with Carl for a bit while Lori did stuff, then Daryl & I went hunting, brought something back for dinner. Camp drama declined a little but we (or should I say they) still got on each other's nerves like annoying neighbors. I spent most of my time avoiding all that, talking or sitting in comfortable late at night with Daryl. Took my run, and dropped like the dead to sleep. Cue cycle repeat.

Dare I say, the boring routine was bliss.

Pure bliss.

I've missed boring routines so much I could cry. But nothing lasts forever, and today it came to an unfortunate end.

I've had a bad feeling ever since I woke up this morning, and finding out Rick & Shane have already taken Randall out, to cut him loose didn't help.

"Jesus will ya sit down already." Daryl grabbed my elbow from the porch railing where he sat, and I stumbled as he pulled me down into the chair next to his knee.

Carl snickered from where he was playing chess with Glenn at the small round table a few feet from us, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"What are you so worked up about anyway?" Glenn readjusted his cap, glancing over from the board.

I shook my head as my leg started bouncing, my fingers drumming on the chair arm; much to Daryl's annoyance.

I don't even know, myself. Something just feels… off, today.

I chewed on my lip, taking a passing glance over the chessboard. "Check"

"Wha?" Glenn breathed, scrunching his face before double taking at the board.

Carl smiled that cheeky evil grin he's been mastering and Daryl scoffed under his breath; messing with his crossbow.

Anxiety ran rampant as I turned my eyes towards the edge of the property.

"How did you do that?" Glenn finally found the trap Carl's been setting for the last 6 moves.

The kid giggled mischievously, refusing to tell and I fist bumped him, with my own proud smirk.

I don't know where the kid learned to play so well but you just got served by a 10 year old, Ace.

"Oh haha" Glenn rolled his eyes, sporting a salty smile, and got up. "Let's see you play him."

That's not a bad idea actually. I need a distraction.

I traded seats with Glenn as Carl reset the board, and spun it so I could play black; Or in this case silver.

I gestured for him to make the first move, letting my chin rest in my palm, and the game begun.

Within four moves, I placed my bishop on a4 (or Bishop to Rook's 5) and announced, "Checkmate"

I laughed at the state of pure slack-jawed shock from both Glenn & Carl. And this time, I leaned over to fist bump Daryl, who held his knuckles out.

Carl got competitive and we played four more times. The longest game lasting about half an hour. Glenn played me twice before he switched back with Carl, and Dale came over at one point to watch.

I semi-taught Glenn & Carl a few strategies that I myself was taught by Jackson; The kid two grades above me in school, who taught me how to play chess when I was a little younger than Carl is now.

We used to play at lunch in the cafeteria sometimes, but usually he came to the house to hang out with the older boys.

Unlike Jackson the Jerk who never once let me win when I was a kid, I let— helped, Carl win the final round by not letting him make silly mistakes.

I took my first chess win against JTJ by force, when I was in high school. So I guess it worked out in the end.

There isn't much time for playing chess nowadays, but I have a different lesson to teach Carl than Jackson did for me.

"Checkmate!" Carl beamed like the sun, shooting up from his seat in triumph.

I held my hand out over the board, like at the end of every round we've played and humbly accepted defeat with a handshake.

Seems my work here is done, because I found no trace of smugness in Carl's excitement after he shook my hand and got up, running into the house shouting, "Mom! Mom! I beat Eve!"

Daryl & Dale both smirked knowingly at me.

"You could have moved your bishop there and beat him like 4 moves ago." Glenn pointed at the board with a confused suspicious smile.

I smiled, shrugging like and laced my fingers together behind my head.

"Yes. She could have." Dale pat Glenn on the shoulder as he got up and wandered back to camp.

I pulled the deck of cards from my pocket as T-Dog roamed up with a lazy "Sup".

I shook the cards, raising an inviting eyebrow at the 3 left on the porch with me and Daryl scoffed, coming off the railing to take up a seat between me & Glenn.

"Blackjack or poker. We ain't playin' go fish."

Glenn & T looked between us with confused laughs and I just smiled, taking the deck out and shuffled all fancy-like before dealing.