So this took an age because I wrote and rewrote (x 100) this chapter just trying to get their heads right, trying to convey what I think is going on internally for them. And I don't know if I got there (and I'm not sure I will ever know, or get there), but at some point I just have to let go and move on, or this story never will! If you're still reading, you are a saint for your patience and dedication and I love you :D


Chapter 13 - Better

Daryl felt like shit.

And it wasn't because of his hangover - although his dry mouth and thumping head really weren't helping matters.

He could've played things so differently last night. There were so many choices he could've made that wouldn't have ended up with him here.

But here he was, and he felt like shit.

As the grey early morning light filtered through the trees, Daryl sat folded up on the armchair out on the Dixon porch, the bite of dawn a welcome relief on his clammy skin, although not enough of a distraction from the rickety reel of half-memories from the previous night that were bumping through his brain.

Most were thankfully hazy – a vague recollection of throwing a punch at Dwight for trying to take a drink off him (he'd have to apologize for that at some point); a snippet of falling over a barstool out in the courtyard. But some of it uncomfortably clear – the sting of seeing the pictures of Tahlia and Shane; the mess he'd made with Amber.

God, Amber.

He'd fucked her. Hard. Made her scream his name. But it hadn't felt right, good; not at all, not in the physical way sex usually did, and he couldn't come. Couldn't really be bothered trying after she was done. She'd persuaded him to try again, but it was even worse the second time, and he just wasn't into it. That was a first. Sex had always been an outlet or an escape for him, like fighting or drinking. Wasn't always great, but he felt better afterwards, one way or another. It always cleared his head.

Except this time, it didn't.

His head was full to bursting with Tahlia and that had thrown him. And then he'd started to feel sick. Like, properly sick, and he'd rolled away from Amber and walked straight out of the room, straight out of the house, butt naked. Puked all over the rosemary (he'd need to remember to clean that up or Merle would kill him. Merle loved cooking with rosemary).

Then suddenly, like a switch flicked, he'd realized he was a fucking idiot and wanted Amber gone, but when he went back to the bedroom, she was already passed out and snoring. So instead, he went to the bathroom, turned the shower up to scalding and scrubbed until his skin was red and raw, until the feel of her had been purged from his cells, then dressed and curled up on the couch where he fell into a restless sleep.

And although now it wasn't long dawn, he was sitting outside and wondering if it was too early to wake Amber up and kick her out because it was making him so fucking uncomfortable to have one girl in his bed and another in his head. Maybe he should just leave and let her figure it out when she woke.

Fuck.

He was such an asshole.

He'd always been comfortably halfway to asshole at least, but this was the first time it had really fucking bothered him. He shouldn't have gone near Amber. He knew that. He knew how she felt about him, and he'd used her to try and make himself feel better, feel something that wasn't gut-twisting anguish, though it hadn't even goddamned worked. He was going to have to apologize, set things straight - even though what he really wanted was just to never speak to her again.

And his remorse over that whole situation hung heavy, but the really disconcerting thing was this unfamiliar, drenching sense of guilt, like by hooking up with Amber he'd ruined things with Tahlia, like he'd cheated on her, which was agonizing but also confusing because they weren't anything and he wasn't goddamned beholden to her – to anyone – yet it was this that had him all on edge and knotted up and hollowed out.

Because, maybe they could've been. Something. Wasn't sure what that something was, but it had felt kinda possible, for a little while at least.

He didn't date or do relationships because he'd never wanted to; because he'd always thought it was a fucking stupid concept - choosing some random person to attach yourself to until one of you lost interest or fucked up, and then you disengaged and started again with someone else.

The thing he hadn't known until recently, though, was that this whole relationship concept was kinda like fitting puzzle pieces together – yeah, course it was real stupid to try and jam together pieces that obviously didn't fit, but when you found two that slotted into each other perfectly and made a clearer picture together than when they were on their own? Then it made all the damn sense in the world.

And though he hadn't spent a lot of time with Tahlia, it was just so easy when they were together that he imagined that's what it would feel like to fit with someone.

The thing about puzzles though, is that each piece can usually fit with more than one other.

And because Daryl had fucked up and gotten all chicken shit and let his insecurities get the better of him, Tahlia had ended up with Shane.

And Daryl only had himself to blame for that.

God, that was a thought with serrated edges.

Fucking Shane.

What had Andrea said? Great guy. Perfect for Tahlia.

Daryl's insides churned at the thought of him with her and he wanted to fucking explode even though – and God, he hated to admit it – maybe Andrea was right. Least Shane hadn't let her down.

Daryl pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

There was a torrent of emotion swirling inside him, a gallon of regret and a deep pool of self-loathing. It was a lot for him to process, complex and weighty and unfamiliar, and his natural inclination was to escape; put distance between himself and the everyday world and let time and space untangle his thoughts, ease the ache. And normally, he would do exactly that. Head for the cabin, let the tranquility of the wilderness recalibrate him.

But his urge to run was overridden by a new, fiercer desire.

He had to see Tahlia.

He had to make things right; make sure they were ok.


Heading for his bedroom, Daryl found that Amber was still sleeping – looking far too comfortable for his liking – so he made sure to bang the door and stomp in before dropping down onto the bed next to her, firmly shaking her awake.

"Daryl!" she murmured with a lazy smile, rolling onto her back and tucking one hand behind her head.

Averting his eyes, Daryl quickly reached out and pulled the sheet up over her chest, covering her up.

"Hey. Sorry 'bout last night." he said, getting straight to it. "'Bout… things happenin' between us."

"Sorry?! Why? Don't be," Amber purred, arching a brow, "I had a great time. I always do, with you."

"Naw." said Daryl firmly. "Naw. Shouldn'ta done that. Coz I don't… I just don't… look, last night? Was outta my head and it weren't right for me to do nothin' with you. Need ya to know it ain't gonna happen again."

Amber batted her lashes and ran her fingers down his forearm. "You've said that before… but here we are."

Carefully moving just out of her reach, Daryl shook his head. "Mean it, Amber. Mean it this time. Coz it ain't fair on you when I know there ain't never gonna be nothin' more in this for me."

She shot him a sassy smile. "I'm more than happy for you to keep being… unfair to me."

Daryl sighed. "Get dressed, 'kay? Take you home."

"Aw," pouted Amber, rolling onto her side and patting the space next to her seductively. "It's so early. Why don't you come back to bed for a bit? If this isn't going to happen again, like you say, then we should really make the most of it, don't you think?"

Quickly standing up, Daryl shook his head. "Get dressed. I'ma wait outside."

Not discouraged in the least, Amber called to his retreating form, "Will you at least take me home on your bike?"

And because Daryl still felt bad about the whole situation, he did end up taking her home on his motorbike as an olive branch – but regretted the decision immediately because (although it was illogical) it just felt like another betrayal to Tahlia: someone else sitting in her spot, someone else's body pressed against his, someone else's arms wrapped around his waist; and he drove as fast as he could to get Amber home, resenting her all the way, then feeling like crap for resenting her because she didn't deserve that. But when he finally made it back through his front door and realized that he could smell Amber all over him, feel the imprint of her body on his, that resentment returned in full force and he made straight for the shower where he scrubbed himself once again then dug out a fresh set of clothes.

Glad that Merle and Andrea were still in bed, Daryl headed out onto the porch. He didn't need the shit he knew he'd get from them. Not right now. Had enough shit inside his head as it was.

So, he smoked a cigarette.

Stared at his phone.

Made a coffee.

Drank it too fast.

Burned his mouth.

Chewed his thumbnail.

Lit cigarette number two.

Then, finally, he dialed Tahlia's number.

She answered on the fifth ring.

"Daryl? Hi… is everything ok?"

Course her first question would be one of concern for him. Hollowed him out even more.

"Mornin'. Yeah, just callin' coz… shit. Didn't wake ya, did I?"

"No, I've been awake for a while. Still in bed though, feeling sorry for myself. Hit the open bar a little too hard."

Her voice was low and rough around the edges like it was just warming up. Sent tingles down his spine.

"Oh. Are you…?"

Alone? Daryl wanted to ask. With Shane?

But he had no right.

"...this a bad time?"

A pause.

Then she laughed, a velvety, butterfly-winged sound. "A bad time for what, exactly? It's 8 o'clock on a Saturday morning and I'm in bed hungover, so it's a great time for a phone call, but like… a big, loopy rollercoaster would be out of the question."

"Uh…" Sometimes caught off guard with the weird tangents she careened down, Daryl squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment and concentrated on why he was calling her. "Just… meant to be lookin' at cars this mornin'. Still wanna do that?"

Another pause.

Then her voice, quietly serious. "That's right, we were… but honestly, I just didn't expect to hear from you today. You know, after last night."

Last Night.

Like it was a defining moment in their relationship that everything would now be classified by: Before Last Night, when things were pure and possible, and After Last Night, when things just weren't anymore.

Daryl huffed out a loud breath. "Wanna look at cars or not?" He didn't mean to sound so tetchy, but he wanted to shut down any avenue into the matter of Last Night because it was a conversation he couldn't bear to have over the phone - he needed to see her.

"Um…" Tahlia's voice had shrunk, gone all small from his gruffness. "It's totally fine, we don't have to do that. I know you think you owe me because I helped you, but you don't. You really don't have to –"

"Silver!" growled Daryl, interrupting her because this was hard enough for him without her giving him an out, but he immediately softened. "Wanna. Wanna help ya. Wanna… goddamn. Can I just come get ya? Go get food or somethin'? Don't gotta do the car thing if y'ain't up to it, but… shit, Tahly. Wanna see ya."

"You do?" she asked, her voice even tinier, fragile, disbelieving.

Of course he did. He always wanted to see her. And Daryl's gut contracted sharply, although whether it was because of that realization or because he wanted her to know that or because actually, maybe he didn't want her to know that, he really wasn't sure, so just awkwardly muttered, "Yeah. Course."

Then the silence stretched for so long that panic started to mushroom inside him until he heard it. Heard her smile starting, stretching, reaching down the line like the soft ripple of the sun's rays breaking through morning cloud.

"Ok, sure!" So warm. "That would be nice."


Less than an hour later, Daryl was leaning against the side of his truck as he waited outside Tahlia's apartment. Eventually he caught sight of her shoving through the outer door, and he couldn't help but hang his head.

"Hi! Oh God, it's so bright out." she complained lightly, jamming her sunglasses onto her face as she made her way over to him. "I'm glad you brought the truck. Don't think I could've coped with wearing a helmet and concentrating on not falling off a motorbike today. But you've got a sick bag in there, right? Maybe two?"

Daryl peeked up at her, surprised by her breezy tone and easy smile. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting – she wasn't particularly fiery by nature, so, frostiness, maybe? A demand for an apology and sullenness for a while at least. But she just seemed… normal, like everything was totally fine, like he could even get away without apologizing if he wanted. That made him feel both better and worse, but he pulled a half smile and tried to match her lightness.

"You sick in my truck, and I'll kill ya." he retorted, badly wanting to grab her in his arms and squeeze tight, but he didn't know how, so instead he opened the passenger door for her.

Tahlia grinned lazily at him as she climbed in. "Promise I'll try and hold it down."

"You really that bad?"

"Nah, not that bad, just moderately wrecked. Headache, tired. Nothing a gallon of coffee won't fix."

"Coffee comin' right up, then." promised Daryl as he gunned the engine and pulled out onto the road. "Take ya to the diner just down from the dealership, then you can decide if you feel like lookin' at cars." Drumming his fingers on the wheel, Daryl could feel the matter of Last Night pressing down on him, suffocating, and he wouldn't be able to breathe until he addressed it. "So, uh… how was the casino thing?"

Tahlia shot him a side glance and shrugged. "Yeah, it was good, fun. But still, you know, worky."

"Get the hamper?"

"No!" she lamented pressing her palm to her forehead. "Lost all my chips in minutes! Went home empty handed. And my hamper went home with Martha from accounts."

Daryl snorted. "Fuckin' Martha." Then his smile faded, and he sighed. Best just to get this part out of the way. He needed air. "I'm real sorry I bailed on ya."

"Oh, don't be." Tahlia waved a hand at him dismissively. "It's my fault, really. I knew it wasn't your scene, I knew that you didn't want to come, so, yeah. I shouldn't have pushed it."

He frowned. Did she have to be so goddamned understanding? So nice? It'd be so much easier if she'd get mad, shout, call him names. Felt like that was the least he deserved. But here she was, letting him straight off the hook. Taking the blame. Made him feel like he had to wrestle it off her. Claim it back.

"Course it ain't your fault. At all."

She just gave a pleasant shrug.

He had only planned on an apology, not an explanation, but now he had an urge to tell her what had happened, make her understand.

"I did wanna go. With you, I mean. Was ready and all, then Merle… said somethin'. Threw me off, y'know?"

Turning to face him, Tahlia pushed her sunglasses onto her head. "What did he say?" she asked softly.

Daryl shook his head. "Don't matter. Shouldn'ta let it get to me, and I'm sorry for it." The words ached more than he'd expected, so he tried to wrap it up quickly and leave them behind. "So… uh… we good?"

"Of course." affirmed Tahlia sincerely. "We'll always be good."

And that made Daryl's chest ache even more and he wanted to reach for her hand, seek atonement that way, but he didn't, and instead cleared his throat and mumbled, "Saw a picture of ya. Looked real pretty."

Tahlia smiled even though the compliment didn't hit the mark. She had wanted to look pretty for him.

"And… looked like you had a good time with Shane. Glad he was there for ya." The words were dry and dusty on Daryl's tongue, but he tried his best to make them sound sincere.

"Oh, God," Tahlia gave a humorless laugh. "I didn't want him there. I didn't ask him to come. That was all Michonne and Rick."

Daryl glanced at her in surprise.

"Don't get me wrong," she continued, dropping her head back against the head rest, "It was fine, we had fun, but you know, it's Shane."

No, Daryl didn't know and needed her to clarify what she meant by that immediately because Andrea had implied that something was going on there now, and maybe his look conveyed all that because she eyed him up for a moment, then let out a little laugh and shook her head.

"I just… no. Not him. Not for me. We're friends and he's a good guy, but that's as far as it goes – will ever go - no matter how much he flirts or how many cocktails I have."

Relief flooded Daryl, but that was quickly followed by a wave of self-disgust at the fact that he hadn't upheld the same standards.

"Anyway, enough about me. Let's talk about you. Heard you had a pretty good night." remarked Tahlia, a teasing lilt to her tone as she flicked her sunglasses back down. "Sounds like it was a much better time than hanging out with a bunch of damn lawyers."

Fuck. Daryl grimaced, his grip tightening on the wheel. She already knew about Amber. Goddamned Andrea.

"That's also why I was surprised to hear from you this morning. Thought you would've been wanting to stay in bed." Tahlia added with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. "Meant to be a good hangover cure, you know." Then a light tinge rose on her cheeks, like maybe she regretted saying that, and she turned to look out her window.

Meant that she didn't see the anguish on Daryl's face as he quickly rubbed a hand over his mouth.

"Tahly, that was… that was a mistake, with her. Ain't never happenin' again, honest, I don't –"

Her laugh sounded a little forced as she held a hand up to quiet him. "Oh my gosh, I'm just teasing. It's totally none of my business."

But it is. He desperately wanted to say. It is.

Instead, he said nothing and in his silence she launched into a retelling of some antics from the casino night just in that regular, easy way of hers, like all that other stuff was wrapped up now; behind them.

He'd felt it from her though, heard it in her voice – a slight dimming, a muted melancholy, a faint hint that he'd hurt her but she was trying her best not to let it show. Daryl wanted to pull over, take her hands in his and go over it all again until he was certain that she knew he'd fucked up and how sorry he was, but she'd already brightened just by changing the subject and Daryl realized that she wanted to move on from Last Night as much as he did, wanted to turn away from it and settle back into the comfy spot where'd they left off before.

And if that's what she wanted, then he'd work to get them back there as fast as possible.


Isn't this better? thought Tahlia when Daryl ushered her into a corner booth of a cute little diner, then promptly made her swap seats so that she was facing away from the morning sun because earlier, she'd briefly complained about brightness.

Isn't this better? thought Tahlia when she'd tried to order 'just coffee' and Daryl rolled his eyes and ordered bacon, eggs and grits on her behalf, assuring her it would make her feel brand new, then later laughed at her when she complained she was too full and it was his fault.

Isn't this better? thought Tahlia when Daryl coaxed her out of the truck at the dealer's lot with the promise of looking at 'no more than three cars' and a further promise of more coffee as soon as they were done, grinning at her half-hearted protests and fondly declaring that she was absolutely hopeless.

It was, wasn't it?

Better.

To have him like this, as a friend.

Well, she wouldn't get more than that from him, so she'd best make her peace with it.

From first meeting Daryl she'd experienced a skin-searing, belly-flipping attraction that had only intensified over time, but that she'd been able to ringfence, keep to one side. Her unraveling had begun with getting to know him, in breaking through that tough outer layer and discovering the sweet, considerate, playful, protective soul that lay beneath; in knowing that very few people had been granted access to this side of him.

Add to that the thoughtful things he'd done for her; the ease of how – after he'd stopped resisting her efforts – they'd fallen into an effortless friendship; the way they'd soaked each other's company up so naturally; those looks she sometimes imagined he gave her; the intensity of that charge she thought she felt between them; the fact that she was an idiotic, hopeless romantic… and perhaps she could be forgiven for letting her imagination bloom and her heart skip ahead to a place where she thought that maybe, they could be a them.

And even though she knew not only he didn't do relationships, but that he held people he'd been intimate with at arm's length; didn't let anyone who'd been in his bed get close to him outside of it; she'd still been stupid enough, conceited enough, to think that maybe she'd be different for him.

And though she'd told him that the invite to her work thing was just as friends, he could read her like a book, so it had probably been pretty obvious that she'd been all heart-eyed and hopeful that really, it might be the gateway to long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners and anniversary cards.

So, of course he'd cancelled on her.

And like the idiot she was, she couldn't leave well enough alone, and instead had left him that stupid message about how she'd ditch the function and they could hang out together instead, which had probably scared the bejesus out of him and had possibly even triggered his desire to scoop Amber into his arms (someone he apparently didn't even like, and thanks for all the details on that coupling, Andrea) just to make sure Tahlia got the message, loud and clear, that she was quite steadfastly in his friend-zone (and that message had resulted in a 2am booze-fueled ugly cry in the privacy of her bedroom that, in the cold, sober morning light, Tahlia was particularly mortified about).

Then he'd called her. Because he wanted to see her, he'd said. Hang out.

That's when she realized that this little friendship that was blossoming between them was far more meaningful than making it into his bed.

And though it was still hard for her to get her head around his separation of sex and intimacy; difficult for her to imagine how sex could ever not be completely tangled up in strings and feelings, she just had to accept that's how it was for him, and probably the most 'intimate' someone could get with Daryl would be through friendship.

So the fact that he'd reached out to her today told her that he cared about her and wanted to hold onto her (albeit, only platonically). And though it meant she'd had to collect up her burgeoning feelings for him and carefully pack them away and try and show him that she was on board with that, with being just friends (although she doubted she'd been able to pull off her attempt at cool and carefree when he was talking about Amber), she was feeling heartened already because she genuinely enjoyed his company, genuinely felt better just for seeing him.

And, as he draped an arm over her shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze as he led her across the lot, teasing that she didn't have to be scared because he'd be right next to her the whole time, she knew for sure that having him like this was so, so much better.


"'Kay." said Daryl, sweeping a hand around three cars in a corner of the dealer's lot. "Thinkin' of one of these for you. Already checked 'em over in the week, so just see what ya think."

"Ooh, eggshell blue." Tahlia remarked as she ran her fingers over the hood of the nearest car. "Dreamy. This is the one. I'll buy it."

Daryl immediately smacked at her hand. "Ain't gettin' outta this that easy. Take a look inside."

As Tahlia climbed in, Daryl leaned in the open driver's door and rattled off a few numbers that didn't mean anything to Tahlia, and she nodded along for a while, then flicked at the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

"Hmm. Pine scented. It's a no from me."

Knowing that, because she had zero interest in cars and was nursing a hangover, she was deliberately being a pain in the ass, Daryl refused to give her the satisfaction of a smile and instead punched her arm and dragged her out of the car, steering her towards the next one.

"Get in." he instructed as he directed her to the driver's side while he slid into the back behind her.

"Daryl! This is definitely the one!" declared Tahlia in sudden excitement, and Daryl leaned over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Yes! See? Look at this cupholder!" She pressed a panel on the dash and a large cupholder sprung out. "Perfect!"

"Gawd. You are hopeless." replied Daryl as he sat back again. Then, because there wasn't much room for his legs, he laid down on the back seat and tucked one hand behind his head. "Know this is news to you, but there's more to a car than just cupholders, girl. Gotta think 'bout the whole thing. Stuff like this – see? Ain't much room in the back."

Swiveling in her seat, Tahlia observed his reclined position and arched a brow. "And what would I be needing room in the back for, hmm?"

Taking in her quizzical amusement, Daryl's mouth went dry as he suddenly realized she thought he meant for sex, even though he hadn't meant that, but now he was thinking about it so he didn't even have the presence of mind to respond with something obvious like, 'passengers, dumbass' and instead had an urge to point a finger and tell her that he wasn't in the mood for sex-jokes because he couldn't come last night and it was on account of her. Or maybe he should just tell her to get her ass in the back and he'd show her he hadn't meant for sex, because there was plenty of room for that.

God, what was wrong with him? He shouldn't be thinking of her like that.

But that was the whole problem really, wasn't it? Thinking of her.

His cheeks must have been as red as they felt because she could barely contain her laughter, so he gave her his best withering look and flicked her shoulder as he got out of the car.

"C'mon. Last one over here. Then we should take 'em for a test drive."

And she gave such a theatrical groan that he couldn't help but chuckle as he pulled her to her feet.

"You can do it, Silver." he said teasingly, laying his hands on her shoulders. "You gotta. Gotta get a reliable car. Just imagine being up at that lake again in the middle of the night with a dead battery when I ain't there to save your ass."

For some reason that plummeted them both into seriousness and they stared at each other and Daryl wished he hadn't said anything because it was no accident that he'd been there for her that night and she didn't know that, and he hated the thought of her ever being in a situation like that again and damn he wouldn't let her be in a situation like that again if he could help it, and she didn't know that either.

Then Tahlia chuckled. "Guess that's why I need a car with room in the back, huh? So there's space for me to sleep when I get stranded."

And Daryl gave a little growl and tried to hide his smile.


Three test drives later, they were back standing in the lot and Daryl quickly ran through a comparison of the car specs then propped his hands on his hips.

"So? Any of 'em?"

Tahlia gave a non-committal shrug. "Um…"

"You even been listenin'?"

"Yes, I've been listening!" affirmed Tahlia, wide-eyed, "I just haven't understood a single word that you've said. Maybe I'll just go home and think about it and -"

"Gawd. Naw." Daryl shook his head. "Silver, you are gettin' a damn car today coz there ain't no way in hell I'm goin' through all this again with ya."

(They both knew he would).

Tahlia sighed. "Daryl, I really appreciate you trying to help me with this, but I don't… I just don't care that much, to be honest. All I want is something reliable that will get me from A to B and can hold my venti cappuccino from Starbucks. You know when you had all those documents, you just wanted me to read them and tell you where to sign?" She waved a hand around at the cars. "This is the same thing for me. It feels difficult." Then she took a step into him and fisted her hands in the front of his shirt and stuck her bottom lip out before dropping her forehead to his chest. "Daryl," she said, voice muffled, "Please can you just choose one and tell me where to sign."

God, Daryl couldn't help but love the fact that she was so effortlessly amazing in so many ways, but she was also fucking useless at a bunch of things and it just so happened that he was amazing at some of the things she was useless at and, perfect puzzle pieces! he thought, then quickly pushed that thought aside because, no. Not the time.

But, she was right there and endearingly needy so he chuckled as he put one hand on her waist and threaded the other through her hair, tugging gently to tilt her face up to his.

"'Kay. I'll decide. So quit your poutin'." he told her fondly. "Think you should go with the Focus. Good safety ratin', engine's in good nick, low mileage, and… great cupholders."

Tahlia beamed up at him and slipped her arms around his waist, giving him a happy squeeze.

"Thank you! Sounds perfect."


So she filled out the paperwork, then they shuffled the cars around so Tahlia's new car was at her apartment and her old car was at Daryl's work so he could tune it up then sell it for her, and then they were back in his truck, pulling up outside her apartment again and there came that moment where they both hesitated, clear in the knowledge that they'd completed the task they'd set out to do, so Tahlia scooped her bag up in one hand and put the other on the door and took a breath and Daryl panicked because he couldn't bear her to go, not yet, so he quickly killed the engine and spoke before she had a chance to.

"Whatchu wanna do now?"

And her impending goodbye disappeared into the air as she stared at him in surprise, then she smiled. One of those little smiles that was hardly any mouth but all eyes and deep as the goddamned ocean and filled him up and dredged him out all at once.

"Feel like walking into town?"

So, they did.

They strolled through the park and picked up coffee (for them) and pretzels (for the ducks) then carried on into the city center, walking slow and sticking close, and eventually ended up outside the movie theater.


And it was later, when they were sharing popcorn and rolling their eyes trying not to laugh at some lame comedy; and later still when they were lounging in a crummy burger joint booth like they had all the time in the world, picking at fries and talking shit while the night folded in around them, that Tahlia knew with absolute certainty that not only was it better, having him like this, it was damned near perfect.