Chapter 45 - The party
With the group's arrival back at the prison, word quickly spread that the run had been a success and there was going to be a celebration that night. There was a frisson of excitement in the air as people jumped at the chance to try and feel slightly normal, to try and get a little taste of the old world again.
That evening in the courtyard, Daryl hooked up several strings of battery powered Christmas lights and set the fires burning in the drums, while Tyreese and Rick set up a makeshift bar with a piece of wood balanced over 2 crates, laying several bottles of wine and spirits out, then filled a tub of cold water to sit the beers in. Hershel manned the spit, roasting one of the pigs over the fire, and Carol and Karen set out a selection of food for grazing, while Beth stacked up a random selection of CDs from cars they'd raided next to a battery powered boombox.
As people arrived in the courtyard, everyone was dishing out greetings like they hadn't seen each other in ages - kisses, hugs, compliments on their outfits. Most people had made an effort to clean up and dress up for the evening, even a reluctant Daryl, who had been threatened by Carol that she'd dunk him in the water trough if he didn't go wash up and put on a clean shirt.
"Even in this world those girls are still taking forever to get ready!" complained Glenn, rolling his eyes as he took a big slug of beer.
"Girls'll be girls." mumbled Daryl, sitting next to him, lighting a cigarette.
"Whoa!" Glenn's jaw dropped as Maggie, Tahlia and Michonne finally emerged, dressed up, made up, looking stunning.
Maggie was in a navy blue off-the-shoulder knee length dress, and Glenn gave Daryl a hard nudge in the side. "That's my wife!" he said proudly, before jumping up to meet her.
"Mmpf." grunted Daryl.
His eyes briefly flickered over the other women, but were immediately drawn straight back to Tahlia and he was sure his heart stopped beating for a minute. A champagne-coloured sequined long-sleeved dress with a plunging v-neck and midthigh hemline hugged her hourglass figure, her toned legs looking impossibly long in strappy high heels, her hair wavy and hanging loose around her shoulders, smoky makeup enhancing her naturally beautiful face, and the necklace he'd made her hanging around her neck, kissing the top of her breasts like it was happily at home there.
Daryl's mouth went dry, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Goddamn if she wasn't the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen in his whole fucking life.
But with her dressed up like that, it made him feel like she was completely unattainable, that he was crazy to consider even for a second that he might have a chance with her.
He watched on, equal measures infatuated and dejected, as she headed to get a drink, Rick leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek on his way past, a brief exchange and grin between them. As she poured some wine into an empty jar – the best they could do in lieu of wineglasses – she glanced up, catching Daryl's eye. With a crinkle of her eyes and little smile he could sometimes convince himself she used only for him, she gestured to the drinks, and he nodded in response when her hand landed on a beer.
Just then, a hand landed on Tahlia's hip.
"Brody!" she exclaimed as she turned around into the handsome face of the blond man, who leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"You look incredible!" he complimented her as he pulled back, eyes travelling up and down her body appreciatively.
"I like your suit!" she returned, checking out his white shirt, light gray suit jacket and pants. "This feels weird, doesn't it? Like none of that out there-" she gave a vague gesture. "-is happening. Kind of like it used to be."
"Apart from the fact that we're in a prison!" laughed Brody, his hand still brazenly on her hip. "So, cheers to our first prison party!" He clinked his bottle of beer against her jar, and they took a sip.
"Ok..." Tahlia was keen to put some distance between her and Brody, especially because she could feel the burn of Daryl's eyes still on them. "Well, I just need to get a drink to Daryl, he'll be dying of thirst by now."
Brody smiled and tipped his bottle in cheers to Daryl, who just kept his stony stare fixed on the younger man. "Alright then, let's have a drink later." Brody leaned back in to kiss Tahlia again before wandering away.
Daryl frowned, that jealous flare surging inside him as he watched the exchange, knowing right then that he'd need to take it very easy on the booze tonight. He was a volatile drunk at the best of times, and being intoxicated on a night like this when his emotions were already running high would only end badly. And would almost certainly include a brawl with Brody, which, he was sure, wouldn't win him any points with Tahlia.
Tahlia eventually made her way to Daryl, feeling her pulse start to race at how sexy he looked in dark blue jeans and black button-down shirt that he'd rolled up at the sleeves and left open at the collar, his hair washed and floppy over his forehead. Already she could feel that inexplicable pull to be near him as everything else around her faded away. Dropping down on the seat next to him she crossed her legs, her tanned smooth thighs on display and bumped his shoulder gently with her own.
"Well, don't you scrub up nicely, Dixon." she said in admiration.
"Ain't so bad yourself." he murmured, wishing he could say the words that were really on his mind, but also surprised that he'd managed to form coherent words at all.
He took a long drag on his cigarette then offered it to her, and she accepted, handing him the beer in exchange.
"This is nice, it's really lifted everyone's spirits." she noted, looking around at the happy faces.
"Yeah, good to find all that today. Despite all that other shit."
Tahlia's forehead creased a little. "It was definitely a mixed bag, but we did get a good score." Then she nudged him again. "Hey. This is just the same as it always is, you know?"
"Huh?"
"You're a little on edge. I can feel it. But tonight's just the same as always."
Daryl sighed and picked at the label on his beer. Of course she'd noticed his apprehension, which was partially due to her, but mostly because he didn't like parties. The busyness, the expectancy of chat. He much preferred a quieter, emptier scene.
"Parties ain't my thing."
"I know." She lifted her forearm to rest it on his shoulder in reassurance. "But that's just a label. It's just us, hanging in the courtyard, same as we all do every day. Only there's booze. And we look nicer and smell better than usual. Although," She leaned back a bit and looked him up and down and gave him a cheeky grin. "I still prefer the sleeveless shirts. I mean, you look great in that, but... yeah. Arms."
Daryl bit back a smile at that as he elbowed her. "Gimme that smoke."
He reached to take his cigarette back from her, a faint ring of light pink lipstick now visible on the butt, and lifted it to his lips, tasting her. Suddenly he wondered if maybe now was the time. Just get it done.
His plan was simple. Just take her and a bottle of wine she liked up to the hillock and talk things through. But it was so early in the night, she'd only just sat down, surely she wouldn't want to skip out already...
He was still mulling this over when Tahlia abruptly jumped to her feet, spilling some of her wine in the process.
"Oh my God, who's that?!"
"Whatchu talkin' 'bout?" asked Daryl, standing up too as he tried to figure out what had caused her sudden distress.
"On the spit! Who is it?"
Daryl followed her line of sight to the carcass on the spit and finally understood. "Uhh... one of the pigs."
"I can see that." she said, struggling to maintain a level tone. "Which one?"
"Dunno. Don't remember what weirdo names ya give to all the animals."
She shot him a hard look. "You do so!"
He did. Of course he did.
Daryl sighed. "Alright. It's Cracklin'."
"Crackling?! Ohhh but he was so sweet!"
Daryl couldn't help but snort a little at that. "Yeah, hopin' he still will be."
Tahlia gasped and smacked his arm. "Too soon!" Then she lamented, "Maybe I shouldn't have given him such a delicious name."
"C'mon," Daryl nudged her. "Ya know that's how they all gonna end up."
"I know." she replied, resignedly. "Who did it? Who killed him? Was it you?"
Shifting uncomfortably, Daryl rubbed at his jaw while studying the ground. "S'it matter?"
"Yes. Matters to me."
He was quiet for a bit then gave her an apologetic look. "Yeah, sorry, girl. Was me."
Tahlia let out a long exhale as she tucked one arm through his and leaned into his chest.
"Good." she said. "Good. I'm glad it was you. I trust you to do it right. Do it quick. Thank you."
Relaxing at that, Daryl then looked down at her and gave her a little pinch. "Ya gonna eat him?"
"Shit. I made him a promise that I wouldn't. But..." A little guilty smile spread on Tahlia's face. "Smells real damn good though, huh? Come on. Let's go see the others."
They wandered over to one of the fire drums, and Tahlia was immediately swept up into conversation with Michonne, Sasha and Maggie.
"Ma Gawd." muttered Daryl as he eased away from the excited chatter of the women to sit with Rick and Hershel. "You'd think them girls hadn't seen each other in years, the way they're carryin' on!"
Rick laughed. "Parties and dresses seem to have that effect on women! Don't ask me why."
Sitting talking shop with Rick and Hershel for a while, Daryl kept glancing up at Tahlia, and was quickly realising that he had made a fundamental miscalculation in his plan.
Her.
He hadn't taken into account the fact that she was a bit of a social butterfly. There were people around her all the time, filling up her drink, chatting and laughing with her. She was right in the thick of the action, and probably would be for most of the night. It was looking pretty unlikely that he'd be able to catch her on her own for any length of time, and even if he did, it would be noticed immediately if he tried to steal her away.
Not to mention that his window of opportunity was steadily decreasing with the more she drank. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before she was unable to have a meaningful conversation. He sighed, wishing that he'd just done it at the start of the night after all.
"Just gonna get a beer." Daryl excused himself and headed towards the bar. On the way, he caught sight of Eleanor, Della and Amos at one of the picnic tables and he stopped to check in on them.
"How's the night goin'?"
"Sure makes a nice change from tea!" grinned Eleanor.
Daryl peered into her glass. "Lookin' a little empty there. Want me to fill that for ya?"
"Be a dear. Whiskey."
Daryl gave a low whistle. "Straight into it! Whatcha want with it?"
Eleanor fixed him with a firm stare. "Daryl. I'm 76. Ain't got time for no mixers. Just the whiskey, darlin'."
With a chuckle, Daryl shook his head. "Be right back."
Coming back with a bottle in hand, Daryl poured two fingers into each of their glasses.
"Come sit for a bit, honey." said Della. "And have a nip yourself."
"I'll sit." replied Daryl, swinging down onto the bench next to Eleanor. "But I'ma stay off the hard stuff tonight."
"Really?" Amos raised his brows. "Ain't never got the drink flowin' like this. Might as well get into it while the goin's good."
"Nah." Daryl shook his head. "Ain't got the best drinkin' history in my family. Brings out a side of me I'd rather ya don't see."
Eleanor patted his hand encouragingly. "Good for you, darlin'. Keep your wits about ya. Ya know, my Ray, he would have one finger of whiskey on a Sunday afternoon while watchin' the horse racin', and that was it. Never a drop more. Said he didn't like to feel all outta his head. Real proud that you got the control to say when ya want and when ya don't want."
"Yeah, good for you, son." agreed Della as she took a healthy sip from her glass.
Daryl mostly listened while the women related a few stories of their lives before, until their attention was suddenly drawn by a loud cheer by the fire. They looked over to see Rick attempting to twirl a blushing Michonne around, while the others gathered with them laughed.
"Oh, to be young again!" exclaimed Della dramatically, running a hand through her grey curls. "Although I don't think I ever looked like any of those girls, even back in the day."
Amos kissed her hand. "More beautiful."
"They sure are pretty as a picture." mused Eleanor, looking around the group standing by the fire. Then she nudged Daryl. "And if ya don't mind me sayin' so, that girl of yours is easily the sweetest of the bunch."
"Sure is." agreed Della.
Daryl, who was already staring at Tahlia, quickly turned back to the table, glancing over at Eleanor as he shook his head. "Oh... naw. She ain't my girl." he mumbled, scratching at a knot in the wood.
"Huh." Eleanor flicked him a sideways look and drummed her fingers on the side of her glass for a long moment. "Well, if she ain't your girl, then how'd ya know who we were talkin' bout?"
A hot flush rose on Daryl's cheeks, and he ducked his head, suddenly feeling like a big slug of whiskey was exactly what he needed.
Della cackled. "Aww, she sure is, even if the two of ya don't know it yet."
"Oh, for Pete's sake, would you two leave the poor boy alone?" Amos cut in, tsking at the women. "Pay them no mind, son. They've just had a few too many strong ones tonight, they don't know what's comin' out their mouths no more."
"Sure is some crazy-talkin' whiskey in them glasses." muttered Daryl, grateful for the save.
Eleanor gave a little laugh and patted his arm. "Go on, now. Get outta here 'fore I tease ya some more. Enjoy your night, darlin'."
Daryl shot her a shy smile as he stood up. "I'll be sure to steer clear of this table."
He grabbed a beer from the bucket and headed over to the concrete wall to have a cigarette and some time out to gather his wits about him. Around him, the mood was light, the drinks were still flowing, everyone seemed to be having a great time and most people were well on their way to inebriation. Being around drunk people still sometimes set off that little warning light inside him, made him feel uneasy. He could blame that on his dad. If Tahlia hadn't been there, he would have slunk off back to his cell already, having had more than enough socialising for one day. But he wanted to stay and keep an eye out for her. Even from his vantage point, it was plainly obvious that Brody, several drinks in, was continually positioning himself near Tahlia, his lustful gaze lingering.
Rationally, Daryl knew that he didn't have a claim on Tahlia and that she was totally free to make her own choices, free to do what she wanted with anyone she pleased, but it felt like after all this time, after everything, when he was so ready to admit his feelings to her, he didn't want anything to get in the way of that. And something like Tahlia drunkenly ending up in bed with Brody would definitely get in the way. If she decided she wanted that jerk when she was sober, then so be it, but tonight he would be making sure that didn't happen.
At some point, someone had produced an acoustic guitar, and now Tyreese was sitting on one of the bench seats around the fire drum, strumming out some classic tunes while the others belted out the lyrics. At one upbeat song, Maggie grabbed Tahlia's wrist, and the two of them jigged and swung around, singing loudly. As the tune finished, they dissolved into giggles, and Tahlia managed to free herself from Maggie who was trying to persuade her to dance again.
"Time out! Time out!" panted Tahlia, pushing Maggie away. "I need a refreshment break."
Making her way to the bar, she generously sloshed more wine into a jar, then stood for a moment, a small smile on her face as she gazed around at all the happy people. Then she spotted Daryl sitting alone by the concrete wall whittling a stick with his pocket knife. Making a wobbly beeline for him, she dropped down to sit next to him, giving him a friendly bump on the shoulder with hers.
"Daryl! I know you gotta song in ya. What is it? I bet Tyreese could give it a go."
Daryl frowned and shook his head. "Naw! Ain't got no songs. No singin'." He switched his attention back to whittling.
Tahlia leaned against him. "Come onnnn... everyone has like, at least one song. Maybe... Country roooooads, take me hooooome..."
'Naw! Definitely not that!"
Tahlia laughed. "Ok, ok. We will be the strong in silence corner." She grabbed his arm and draped it around her shoulders, sitting silently for only a moment before she piped up again. "Ooh, I know one! What about-"
Daryl cut her off by pulling her into a headlock and pretending to stab her with his stick. "No. Singin'. Woman!" he grinned in spite of himself.
"I surrender! I surrender!" shrieked Tahlia, laughing as she tried unsuccessfully to free herself from Daryl's grip.
He finally loosened his arm, but didn't remove it from her shoulders, and she wriggled close in next to him, casually dropping one hand onto his knee and tipping her head back to rest in the crook of his neck.
"Ok, ok. No singing, I promise. Whistling is all good though, right?" she joked, giving him a squeeze on the thigh.
Shaking his head, a smile twitching at his lips, he hugged her briefly against him. "Ya giant pain in the ass."
He'd been closer to her than this with less clothes on before, but somehow this felt more intense. Every inch of his body that was in contact with hers was flaming, and he wanted it hotter. He wanted to pull her into his lap, to have her body flush with his. He wanted skin to skin. Abruptly, he dropped his arm from her, and shuffled away slightly. Not much, but enough that she couldn't rest against him anymore.
This wasn't the time to be thinking about that. To be getting close to her when they were on two completely different wavelengths.
Tahlia squinted up at him. "You ok?"
"Yup." replied Daryl with a firm nod.
"Are youuu? Are you having a good time?"
Daryl thought about that for a moment. "Ain't havin' a bad time. But ain't havin' a good a time as you."
Tahlia giggled. "I am having an excellent time! Although... I probably should not keep drinking all of the wine."
"Ain't gonna feel so good in the mornin' if ya do, girl."
She nodded sagely. "That is verrrry true. But... that's a problem for future me to deal with."
Daryl chuckled at that. "Feelin' like that's also gonna be a problem for future me. You'll be moanin' 'bout your hangover and I'ma have to do everythin' for ya."
"Yesssss!" Tahlia's face lit up. "You can take me to the swimming hole and roast me up some squirrel while I float about in the water."
"Yeah, we could do that." he replied, suddenly thinking that would be a very good idea.
He'd already missed the boat in talking to her tonight, she'd had too much to drink and trying to have a deep conversation now would be pointless. And he'd waited so long, thought about it all so much, that he just wanted it to be right. He could wait a little longer to get it right.
"Excellent! Now we have a tomorrow plan, I guess I should just keep drinking, then!"
"You just keep on havin' a good time." said Daryl fondly, and then Rick gave a loud shout.
"Tahlia! Come here, come!"
They looked up to see Rick waving wildly at her from near the sofas.
"Tahly! Need you to help me do a... a headstand thing! These guys don't think I can do it!" he exclaimed, gesturing to Michonne, Sasha, Glenn and Carl who were sitting on the sofas, laughing and goading Rick.
Tahlia chuckled. "They might be right, Rick!" she called back. "You've never managed one when you're sober!"
Rick snorted a little at that, then beckoned to her. "Just come help me, would ya!"
She looked at Daryl apologetically. "Better help him in case he breaks his neck. You come with me."
"Nah, gonna have a smoke first."
"Alriiight. After that, then." And then she was heading over to Rick who was now on his knees, avidly declaring how impressive his headstand was going to be.
"Ok, you go first, remind me." slurred Rick.
Pulling a cushion from the sofa and laying it on the ground, Tahlia seemed to consider this for a moment, then remembered what she was wearing.
"No way! I'm in a dress!"
"Oh, right, right. Just me then. Ok, let's do this!"
Kneeling next to Rick and doing her best to look sober and responsible, Tahlia guided his head to the cushion and his hands to the ground to form a triangle, keeping a steadying hand on the back of his neck.
"Ok! You need to lift one leg... not too fast or you'll unbalance."
"Come on, dad!" laughed Carl. "You've got this!"
"Yes!" shouted Rick. "This is happening!"
He tried to lift one leg up in the air several times, dropping back down to the ground heavily.
"Dammit!" Finally he gave a vigorous lurch and kicked his leg higher, quickly raising the other one too before giving a yell as he toppled sideways into Tahlia, knocking her against the sofa, both of them dissolving into laughter, as the others cheered.
"If I had a goddamned penny for evvvery time you got unbalanced and knocked me down!" she scolded as Rick laughed, both of them staggering back to their feet.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. But I did it, right?! For a second anyway."
"You definitely deserve a drink for that!" declared Glenn as he stood up to head to the bar. "Anyone else?"
"Wiiine please!" called Tahlia as she dropped down on the sofa next to Michonne. "Just bring the whole bottle!"
A while later, the courtyard had emptied out a lot, and Daryl had reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged over to the sofas by Carol, and was now sitting next to her, listening to all the meaningless chat around him and remembering how annoying wasted people were. On the sofa to his left, Michonne and Rick were head to head, talking intimately to one another, Brody, Maggie and Sasha on the one opposite, and Tahlia was standing with Glenn just in front of them by the fire. She'd moved on to whiskey now, and Daryl was surprised she was still standing. He was half-listening to Carol and half-keeping an eye on Brody, who hadn't taken his own eyes off Tahlia in a long time, even though she had her back to him as she talked to Glenn.
All of a sudden, Brody reached up and grabbed one of Tahlia's hands, giving her a big tug so that she stumbled and fell into his lap, causing her to drop her glass on the concrete where it shattered at his feet as he wound his arms around her. She gave a little squeal of surprise and stared down at the broken glass for a moment, trying to work out what had happened, and then she slowly seemed to realise that she was sitting sideways on Brody's lap, and he had his arms around her waist as he leered up at her.
Tahlia gave a little laugh, but then shook her head and braced her forearm against Brody's chest as she attempted to stand up, but he just pouted and pulled her closer.
"Brody." she frowned.
Standing next to them, Glenn nudged Brody's foot with his own. "Let her up, man."
Instinctively, Daryl's body tensed, and Carol, even though several wines deep, must have registered it because she put a steadying hand on his arm.
"Daryl." she said, a low warning.
Daryl shot her a quick glance of acknowledgement and took a breath in an attempt to maintain his cool. "Tahly." he called. "Y'all good?"
Although boozy, Tahlia knew where she didn't want to be, and looked over her shoulder at his voice.
"Daryl." His name quiet and slow from her lips as she reached a hand out in his direction while Brody still held her fast.
That was enough for Daryl and as he made to stand up, Carol's fingers tightened over his forearm. "Think first."
"Nothin' to think 'bout." And then to Brody, "Get your hands off her."
"Ohhh come on, man. She's having a good time." slurred Brody, tipping his face up towards Tahlia's.
On his feet now, Daryl was only two steps away from them and gestured at Tahlia who was still reaching for him, before grabbing her hand.
"She look like she's havin' a good time? Get your damn hands off her, or I'll skewer ya with that burnin' fire poker, asshole."
Brody registered the threat, and released Tahlia, lifting his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok! What're you, her fucking guard dog or something?"
Daryl growled at that as he tugged Tahlia to her feet, steadying her waist with one hand as she stumbled into him a little.
"What the hell, dude?" Glenn exclaimed, glaring at Brody. "Don't be a jerk!" Then he followed suit and pulled a drunk and oblivious Maggie up so that he could take her to sit somewhere else.
"Alright, sorry, I'm sorry. Just messing around." said Brody easily, hands still raised.
Tahlia could feel the tension vibrating through Daryl, so she pushed against his chest. "Let's go get a drink." When he didn't move, Tahlia dropped her hands to find his. "Leave it. Not worth it." she said quietly. "Please."
At that, he took a step back and allowed her to lead him away to the bar.
"Wanna punch him."
"I know." Tahlia words were running into each other as she tapped his chest. "But! You didn't. That's a good thing. I'm verrrry proud. We are not going to punch anyone today! It's a party. He's druuunk."
"So are you, girl."
Tahlia nodded and made a face. "Ah. Yesss. A little."
"A lot."
She shrugged, then gave a sloppy gesture at the remaining bottles on the bar. "What can I getcha?"
"Nothin' for me. And the only drink you need is water."
"Water?!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Pretty sure you mean whiskey. Coz my other one is all over the floor!"
He couldn't help but laugh a little at that, his anger dissipating, as he picked up the water jug. "Here. Oh damn, jug's empty. I'ma go fill it from the containers in the kitchen."
"Wait! I want to go where you go." She weaved a little on her way towards him.
"Gawd, c'mere." Daryl reached out to loop an arm through hers. "Look like you're 'bout to break your ankle in them heels any second now!"
They made their way across the courtyard and inside the prison, Tahlia bumping against him all the while until she suddenly stopped short.
"Tired now."
"C'mon." coaxed Daryl. "Nearly there. Right. Water." He guided her into the empty kitchen and tried to prop her up against a cupboard, but she immediately started sliding towards the floor. "Fucksake, Tahly! You're an even bigger pain in the ass when you're wasted!"
"You're wasted." she replied with a snicker as Daryl heaved a pained sigh, hooking his arms under her and lifting her to sit on the stainless steel bench.
"Cold!" she squealed, squirming from side to side.
Then Daryl was in front of her again, holding a mug to her face.
"Drink." he commanded.
With amusement in her eyes, she took a few sips from the cup, swaying slightly.
"Thanksss. Am sober now."
He ignored her. "More."
He waited patiently as she slowly downed the water and then he shook his head. "Damn girl, you're lit."
"But yoooou said that was ok s'long as I was having a good time!"
"Were ya, though? What 'bout just then?" He jerked a thumb behind him.
"Ohhhh yeah. You mean when you had to rescue me again? Damn. Thought it'd be at least more than a day 'fore I had to employ your services again."
Smiling a little at that, he shrugged. "Like I said. Do it as many times as ya need me too. Always gonna be lookin' out for ya."
"You are soo cute when you're being all protective." she drawled, putting the mug to one side.
"Naw, I ain't -" Daryl wasn't sure if he had been about to say cute or protective, so gave a sigh instead. "Just don't want some drunken jerkoff pawin' at ya. He's an asshole, Tahly. So... just not him, not that guy."
"No?" Her eyebrow arched, her voice like honey. "Then... which guy, Daryl? Which guy?"
His heart shot into his mouth at her words, and he dropped his eyes to the ground, afraid that she'd see his answer in them.
Tahlia stared at him for a long moment.
She was brave. She was reckless.
She was drunk.
But sitting in front of him like this was sobering.
And that's exactly why this was a good idea. Or a bad idea. She no longer knew, and neither did she care. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Every cell in her body was firing for him. Sparking a track so bright that she was visible from the heavens.
But he was all she could see. Her whole world reduced to the size of one person now. He was it. Everything.
Shimmying forward a little, she hooked her ankles around his hips and gently pulled him right up against the bench, her thighs gripping his waist firmly, hands alighting on his tense shoulders, wildfire burning in her eyes.
The smell of her all around him now. The floral perfume she was wearing that night, but underneath, that smell that was so her and felt like home - honeysuckle and sunshine.
Daryl's breath hitched in his throat as he studied his hands now resting on the bench on either side of her legs. Her bare legs. The hem of her dress riding dangerously high.
"Don't." he rasped firmly, but made no move away from her.
Couldn't, even if he'd wanted to.
God, he wanted her. More than anything. But, not like this. Not when she was drunk, not when she wasn't thinking straight.
Tahlia's hands dropped to his wrists, then leisurely, lightly, traced all the way up his forearms, his muscled shoulders, his neck, to rest on his jawline, gently cupping his face.
Touch full of loaded intention tonight.
"Don't." he repeated, but all the conviction was gone from his voice as he extended his thumbs to graze the side of her thighs then tentatively shifted his hands to follow them, resting on top of her bare legs, her skin silky smooth under his palms, drifting slowly up until his fingertips brushed the edge of her dress, this alone enough to send him spiraling off the face of the earth.
The thrum of his heart was so deafening he was certain she would be able to hear it, his breath shallow and sharp in his chest. He was aware of her leaning in closer, but he couldn't look up, couldn't look into those eyes otherwise she'd see everything inside him, see his feelings for her so clearly like they were spray-painted on the wall.
Tahlia lifted a hand to caress a lock of hair back from his forehead, her other hand slipping down the back of his neck, fingers teasing light circles.
"Daryl." Barely a whisper.
Look at me. Unspoken.
Swallowing hard, nerve endings fizzing, losing the battle against himself, Daryl slowly raised his gaze to meet hers, and then everything around him fell away, disappeared. Her face was only inches from his, the desire burning in her eyes unmistakable, but she made no further move. The tension fizzed and crackled, and powerless to stop himself, Daryl rose to his full height, easily closing the small amount of space between them.
Grazing his forehead against hers for a slow second, he squeezed his eyes shut and they shared a shaky breath, the heady anticipation before a heart-stopping leap. Then, feeling as if in slow motion, he tilted his chin up, up until his lips gently brushed against hers, hesitant, terrified.
And then she responded, a slight pressure, a tiny sigh.
A surge of heat exploded in his belly and his insides melted into nothing just at that shadow of her touch, electricity shooting through his body, sparking to every corner. Drawing back, only an inch, only for a second, he gazed into her eyes, spilling his soul with one look. Then he pressed his mouth to hers again, feeling her lips part in response, kisses featherlight, the tentative quiver of desire finally realised.
Caressing the back of his neck, Tahlia leaned further into him, the cold steel beneath her about the only thing keeping her connected to reality as she soared, spinning high and fast, drunk – but on something very different now. Daryl's hands slid over her dress to cup her hips, pulling her ever closer as their kisses deepened, slow and sensuous, exploring territory off limits for so long.
Her lips were impossibly soft, and she tasted every bit as good as he'd imagined she would, like strawberries, mingled with the smoke of whiskey in her mouth.
Whiskey.
Shit.
Abruptly, Daryl tightened his arms around her lower back and dragged her unceremoniously off the bench, dropping her roughly to her feet, and jumped a step back from her as she swayed dangerously, putting one hand on the countertop to steady herself.
"You're drunk!" he bit accusingly, but only as a harsh reminder for himself.
Her emerald eyes still held the same languid look of desire, and she seemed unfazed at his brusque treatment as she ran the tip of her tongue along her teeth.
Unbalanced by her silence, he grabbed the empty mug and refilled it for her. "More water."
Tahlia obeyed, a satisfied glint in her eyes, a smile playing on the corners of her lips.
"Ya need to get to bed."
"You coming?" she asked with a suggestive arch of her brow.
With a low growl and dark frown, Daryl grabbed her elbow and propelled her through to the cellblocks as fast as her high heels would allow.
A box of firecrackers alight inside him. Sparking and jolting and bursting and burning.
The taste of her still sweet on his lips. The feel of her still smoldering on his skin. The desire for her still blazing in his belly. The transgression of doing what he'd done while she was drunk and he was sober clawing at his chest. That familiar feeling of wanting to run, run from her, run from the turmoil mushrooming inside him - but first he needed to make sure she got to her cell safely. Needed to make sure she was ok. Couldn't risk leaving her charged and out of her head like that, where she might find her way back to the party, to Brody.
Upon reaching her cell and seeing her bed, Tahlia yawned as if on cue. Suddenly she felt bone tired, and ready to collapse.
Yes, bed was a good idea.
She flopped gratefully on to the bunk, her eyes already closing as Daryl gazed down at her, wondering what the hell to do next.
Eyes alighting on her high heels, he sighed, then tried to undo the small buckles, cursing at the fiddly job. In the end he whipped his knife out and cut through the straps.
Not like she'd have much reason to wear them again.
Raking his eyes up over her evening dress, for a crazy moment he wondered if he should help her out of that, but quickly admonished himself, knowing that would be playing with fire, and pulled the blanket up over her instead.
Eyes still closed, her hand suddenly shot out and gripped one of his.
"Daryl. Daryl." she murmured.
His chest constricted. "Tahly." he sighed wistfully, shaking his head.
He tugged his hand from hers, but couldn't help but smooth her hair back from her face, stroke her cheek, squeeze her shoulder as he stole a tiny moment to take in the peaceful look on her face, the ever-present tiny smile tugging up the corners of her perfect mouth.
And then in a mess and a muddle, he tore himself away from her and stalked back to his cell.
Although he could still hear music and raucous laughter from the courtyard, the relative quiet of Daryl's cell was marginally refreshing. Pacing up and down the small room, he smacked himself hard in the head, berating himself.
What the hell had he been thinking? She was as boozed as anything. He knew this, and yet he had kissed her. An incredible, exhilarating kiss, but one that shouldn't have happened, regardless.
This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid for so long. He'd wanted to talk to her first, do it right. And what's more, he'd just spent the night outside trying to look out for her, trying to make sure that she didn't get taken advantage of by anyone, then he, the most sober one of the lot, had gone and done it himself.
Out of all the opportunities he had to act on his feelings with all the time they spent together, this was the one he took.
The worst fucking one by a country mile.
Sitting down heavily on his bed, he dropped his head into his hands, feeling like a giant prize asshole.
Well, shit. After all this time you didn't think I was just going to make it easy for them now, did you?! :D
Thanks for reading xx