I hate this.

Glenn said figure out how I felt about it, but this is torture. And for no good reason — ok well, it might be good but that doesn't mean it should be torturous.

Why can't I just get a straight answer out of myself of all people.

A hand clapped on my shoulder and I already know it's Glenn, but I looked over anyway.

"You still thinking about it?" No, I hit my head really hard and now have temporary amnesia and am enjoying not remembering something I'm sure has only brought me headaches and suuuper awkward hunting trips the last 4 days.

I sighed, nodding and rubbed my fingers into my eyes. Maybe I'll go blind and this'll be easier.

What —? How would that make things easier?

"What?" Glenn looked at me funny, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Like what? Was I making a face?

I shook it off and gave him a half-smile. We should just finish this run and get back.

I shoved the rest of the food cans from this house's basement into the plastic bin and looked over the shelves once more for the most nutritious stuff. There's too much here to take all at once — thank the gods — but that means they should take the best stuff first, just in case.

Glenn heaved his crate up, straining to carry it and I took a breath before doing the same. Heaving might not be the right word, this is far worse. The bin dug into my fingers like there's a magnet in the bottom and the floor is made of steel.

Getting up the creaky wooden stairs is even worse. Every time my foot makes it up another step, it feels like the box is getting heavier.

My bones of my arms felt like they were trying to pull apart but I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. Don't ask me why, it's just funny to me.

Glenn started laughing too, only 3 steps higher than me, struggling to keep his own box above his knees so he can actually take steps.

"I know I should probably start working out or something, but what's your excuse? You started doing all that strength training like every day. What gives?" he jerked his chin at me, smiling from ear to ear.

"Not great diet. Too much canned food."

Glenn burst out laughing, me along with him. He almost had to set his box down just to catch his breath.

It took us longer to get up the stairs than it probably should have but we made it; giggling like idiots, almost all the way to the top.

Glenn dropped his box as soon as it was high enough to clear the final step and panted, "Finally."

"Move your butt." I readjusted my slipping grip for the 8th time, tempted to lift my leg and actually kick him in the butt but if I do that, I will fall backwards and be crushed by this 3000 lbs box.

Glenn hurried out of the way and I shoved this box onto the ground same as he had.

Glenn glanced to his side and smiled all of a sudden. "Ey Daryl, why don't you come carry this and let Eve take guard duty, it's too heavy for her."

My jaw dropped, eyes bulging out of my skull.

'You slime.'

He dragged his own box back into the air with a cheeky grin, nevermind the red started to crop up in his face and neck from barely being able to carry his own box.

My mouth snapped shut the moment Daryl came over, and dropped again — indignantly — as he put his crossbow on his back and picked up the box like it isn't a big deal.

He smirked at my face and I flipped him off.

"Stop flirting you two, we gotta get back."

Oh that's it.

Glenn yelped as I slipped past Daryl and bolted around the corner after him.

I caught him in the lesser part of 4 strides and got him by the back of his shirt just before he reached the door.

I shoved him behind me and threw my leg out at the same time, somewhat using him to maintain my balance as my foot slammed into the walkers side right as it stumbled through the doorway and barrelled it straight into the coat closet next to the front door.

I pulled my knife and checked outside the door while it struggled to get up, tangled in jackets. Looks like it's just the one.

I turned around and stepped on it's back, between the shoulder blades before stabbing it in the back of the head, under the jaw and skull, behind the head.

It occurred to me the other day that I should be more careful about my kills when I can. These blades are nice but they won't last forever, and they're starting to show it.

It either chip, I'll have to find new ones.

"Thanks." Glenn breathed, watching me pull it out with a squishy 'slick'. I gave him a thumbs up before heading out first.

I took a walk around the car just to clear it and get a look down both ends of the road before heading to the driver seat.

The boxes were put in the back and Daryl took the passenger side while Glenn took the backseat and off we were.

I flicked on the car heater, my shoulders becoming earrings. 'I can't wait for it to be warm again.'

I glanced at Daryl when checking the side mirror out of habit and stared for maybe just a little too long while he picked at a hangnail (which of course he tried to chew off when he couldn't get it with his fingers).

My brain is gonna explode. I sagged into the seat, getting more comfortable.

I feel like I'm just going in circles. 'Figure out how I feel about it.'

Feelings? What are those? I'll give you a feeling, confusing.

There figured it out. Next step please.

I made a right turn and headed down the street to the house.

Well … I wouldn't say it was bad. I'm glad it wasn't someone else. That would've been way worse.

Daryl hasn't said anything about it. But that doesn't exactly make me feel better, and I don't know why.

I don't wanna talk about it, but I know we probably should. Even just to clarify that it's not a big deal if it isn't. I wanna know what he thinks about it because maybe then I can sort out what I do.

For some reason though I feel like we're playing chicken but there's no train or anything to put pressure so we're just standing on the tracks awkwardly staring at each other.

And I'm hoping he'll break first and bring it up, so I won't have to. But he's Daryl Dixon. If he can get away with ignoring it forever, he probably will. And I'm me. Personally I'm a big fan of ignoring a personal problem until it goes away, solves itself, or finally gets annoying enough to deal with.

Based on track record, I know it's gonna be me who cracks first. I don't do well with not knowing something when I could find out.

I'd like it to not be me for a change. That'd be nice.

I pulled up to the house and Glenn got out of the car like it was on fire, running to open the gate.

"What's the matter with 'im?" Daryl shared a look with me and I shrugged.

Glenn got the gate open and I pulled the car into the driveway, parking next to my truck and the other line up of vehicles.

I got the doors while the boys got the boxes and as soon as I walked in, Carl came down the stairs and called, "They're back!" into the living room.

It's amazing how fast he's adjusted to being able to raise his voice a little in the house.

Can't be quiet all the time. Trust me.

I gasped.

Maggie.

I should talk to Maggie.

Maggie might know. Glenn's a guy but Maggie's a girl and maybe it's like — I don't know different for girls? Maybe there's a way to know that he doesn't know about.

I gotta find Maggie.

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