A/N- Well here we go, my first Walking Dead fiction. Honestly I am hoping to make this a multi chapter. Thanks so much to those who have reviewed my work thus far, you guys are awesome. I hope you guys enjoy. Most of this will be in the first person, I am trying something a bit new, so bare with me. Rated M for Violence, Adult Themes, Abuse & because I like to say "Fuck" a lot. :)
"Murph..." the rough voice of Daryl Dixon whispered.
I feel his arms tighten around me, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. I sleep facing him, burrowed down in the blankets. His arms have become my sanctuary, my escape. In them I feel like I can face this hellish new world. He gives me the strength I need to carry on, to not give up hope in this time of terror and uncertainty. I gently rub Daryl's back as my arm rests over his side, he must be dreaming of me, you know since he has been whispering my name for the last five minutes. Not that I mind.
I know you may be wondering who I am, well let me tell you. My name is Murphy O'Connor. Twenty six year old daughter of an alcoholic and a crack whore. I know, harsh, right? But in this day and age, one has to be blunt, don't you agree? I'm not your average blue eyed, blonde haired, petite beauty. No, I'm damaged and scared. My long waist length black hair is dirty and frizzy, my lips are pale and cracked, my body has a bit of "pudge" on it, which is melting away from the lack of actual food. I have a rare genetic disorder called Heterochromia Iridum, which gives me one hazel eye and one green eye and to top it all off, scars litter my tanned skin.
I snuggle down against Daryl, the rain from this morning brought a bit of a cold front in. Daryl is like a human heater, he is always emitting some sort of warmth. I lay with my eyes closed, getting lost in my thoughts. I wonder what Daryl sees in me. I look at women like Andrea and Maggie, they could be models. I have nothing against them, they have always been so sweet to me. When I got to the CDC Andrea helped me clean my wounds. When we first arrived on Hershel's farm, Maggie was the first to greet me. So no, I have nothing against them, but I wonder, why me? You know, when Daryl could have his pick. Yeah, Maggie had Glenn, but Andrea was a sweet single girl. No, he chose me, chose to love me and I am grateful for him.
"Murph..." Daryl whispered again.
This time I feel Daryl shift a bit, his arms loosen their hold on me. I tilt my head up and meet deep blue eyes, eyes that seemed to stare into my soul. I smile and kiss his scruffy chin, crinkling my nose as his "whiskers" tickle my face a bit. I feel his warm breath on my forehead before I move up a bit to be eye level with him. I let my lips form a small smile as I look at him apologetically.
"Sorry if I woke you up." I say softly.
"It's ok, I wasn't sleepin' much anyways." Daryl whispered back in a soft tone.
"I could tell." I smirk a bit.
"Oh?" Daryl inquired.
"You kept whispering, Murph." I laughed a bit.
"Oh, sorry bout that." Daryl looked down.
He does that a lot, I could tell from the moment I met him he seems to carry the heaviest of weights on his shoulders. I gently lift his chin and smile before I kiss his nose. He smirks at me a bit, he has the prettiest smile. Ugh! There I go again. I seem like some fan girl, you know, like the ones who are either Team Edward or Team Jacob. I digress though.
"Don't be sorry. Though makes me curious about your dream Mr. Dixon" I laugh a bit more.
"I um...I don' remember." Daryl shied away a bit.
I look at him and then it hits me, I giggle and bury my face against his chest. I now notice what wasn't his flashlight, poking my in the stomach. I hear a low rumble in Daryl's throat, he hates when I tease him, but I couldn't just let this go. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let my boyfriend off easy? I move my head a bit and smirk as I speak.
"Why, Daryl Dixon, were you having one of those sex dreams bout lil ole me?" I teased.
"Don't know whatcha talkin' bout, woman." Daryl spoke as he glared at me.
"Well then, is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are ya just happy to see me?" I spoke, in between giggles.
"I'm always happy to see ya, even if yer crazy." Daryl continued to glare.
I couldn't help it, I buried my face in the crook of his neck and laughed harder. I feel him tilt his head and bury his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel him laughing as well, we both needed it. After the last few days, we defiantly need it. Then I felt his lips press against my neck. I go to protest, but all that comes out is a whimper. Damn him for knowing my neck was a sensitive place. Then I felt it, his tongue snaking out from behind his lips and licking a trail up my neck.
"Damn you, Daryl Dixon, you dirty redneck." I manage to moan out.
"Nows that any way to be talkin to daddy?" Daryl growled into my neck as he went back to his slow torture.
I giggle as I tilt my head, letting him have even more access to my neck. I couldn't help but think I'm a lucky, lucky girl. Not only have I managed to survive the apocalypse thus far, but I have a real family now, a man who loves me and a reason to keep fighting on. I feel Daryl move and lay me on my back before he hovers above me. I look up at him and place my hands on his cheeks. It's hard to believe I pushed him away at first. I admit, my last boyfriend, was what you'd call a backwoods hick. I'm ashamed to say I judged Daryl by his cover. Never would I have imagined that months later, he would be the man, who at the moment, had me like putty in his hands. I saw him and chalked him up to be another hick like my ex.
Oh how I was wrong. I go to moan, but Daryl remedies that as his lips crash against mine. His rough, calloused hands gently poke and trace their way down my side, inching the dingy white tank top I have on, up. I wrap my arms around him and deepen the kiss. I never thought I could feel the way I do about Daryl. Slowly the kiss breaks and I look up once more at Daryl. He was rough and ragged on the outside, looks like one wrong move and it means a shot to the jaw, maybe a cracked rib if you really pissed him off. But inside, inside Daryl Dixon was a good man with a good heart. Though I would never say that out loud, would ruin his rep I would tease.
"You look worried." Daryl asked softly.
"Huh?" I ask, snapping out of my thoughts.
"I said, you look worried. What's wrong?" Daryl asked.
Daryl continued to look down at me with those eyes of his. His right hand rested on my hip, his other hand was on the side of my head, propping him up. I run my thumbs over his cheeks and stare for a moment before exhaling. He could always tell when my mind was heavy. I try to look away, but he lifts his hand from my hip and gently turns my head back to face him.
"Just thinkin is all." I whisper.
"Bout?" Daryl asked as he continued to stare at me.
"I'm not perfect, I'm flawed. You could have any woman you wanted, yet you chose broken, odd, Murphy." I sigh.
Daryl shakes his head and actually laughs, but it wasn't really a humorous laugh. He hooks his arm under my body and gently rolls us over so now it was me straddling his hips. He doesn't speak, just runs his hands up my sides, relieving me of my tank top. I didn't wear a bra to bed, so there I was, half naked, on top of my "dirty redneck" as I teased him. I look down at him, watch him run his fingers over the knife wound in my side, over the long deep scars around my stomach. His touch is loving, gently, everything opposite of what the rest of the group saw.
Daryl sits up a bit, but holds me firmly on his lap. He leans forward and kisses my stomach, kissed along the rough scars that tattoo my bare skin. His hands move up my back, drawing me to him. He holds me against him as he kisses my collar bone. He kisses his way up my neck, I shiver a bit in his arms as his lips reach my ear.
"Yer perfect to me." Daryl whispered.
"You're just sayin that." I whisper back.
"Bullshit, woman ya know better. Yer fuckin' perfect to me. Nothin's ever gonna change that. Sides, I happen to like yer name as well." Daryl growled in my ear.
"Well, if you say so." I growl right back as I press my bare chest against him.
"I do." Daryl smirked.
Before I knew it he rolled over, pinning me to the ground, looking at me with a devilish gleam in his eyes. He leans down, running his tongue along my neck. I pout a bit, he doesn't play fair. I reach down and pull his shirt off, tossing it on top of mine. Daryl continues his torture, running his tongue along my collar bone, down between my breasts, over my stomach. I squirm a bit, but Daryl's hands are there on my hips, making me hold still.
"Daryl..." I moan.
"Ah, there's what I been waitin' to hear." Daryl smirked as he slid my sweat pants down my hips.
"Damn you, Daryl Dixon." I moan.
"Now, what did I tell ya bout talkin to daddy like that? Don' make me spank ya." Daryl growled once more.
"Fuck you, ya dirty redneck" I growl right back at him.
Our little game had started. Daryl would grab me, pin me down and show me just what kind of man he was. I would pretend to protest, when all I wanted was for him to take me, claim me as his and never let me go. I wrap my legs around Daryl's hips as he kisses me, this was going to be quite an interesting night.
Now you're probably asking yourself, just how did I end up with Daryl Dixon? Well allow me to tell you my story. Tell you who I am, what makes me who I am today and how I fell for the asshole I met on a hot fateful Atlanta evening.
A/N- So far so good? And yes, I did name her Murphy O'Connor because of Murphy & Connor Macmanus. ;) lol There is more to come, I promise. The next few chapters will be going back to tell the story of Murphy, her life before the breakout and how she came across the group.