whew babes, i'm tired from all the schoolwork i procrastinated on in favor of writing this lmaoo
pls appreciate me, im a struggling artiste


oOo

When Diana returned to her own body, she found herself the target of two intense stares. Uneasiness settled into the pit of her stomach once she saw she was no longer in the safety of her new room and the group she'd chosen, but rather with bow on her lap, once again in Hershel's by-now-familiar drawing room. Sitting next to her on the sofa and across from her on the armchair were Rick and Hershel, respectively.

The best her anxious brain could muster was, "Wuh just happened?" The energy in the room was very ambiguous and hard to read.

"I believe your alter ego was attempting to leave an impression, Ms. Lobo. What was the name you gave her? Minerva? Very clever." Hershel stood like a whirlwind, storming over to his desk while keeping his back to them.

"That's- that's not-" Diana had no idea what she was trying to defend. What had Minerva said? What had she done?

Rick stood as well and joined the older man, whispering harshly, "You don't mean to tell me you don't believe what you saw with your own eyes." He gestured at her, and Diana felt the bow hum even deeper on her lap; defensive.

"There is only one God, all of this is blasphemy." He glared at her over his shoulder, his eyes like a tornado of emotions. "When my time comes, I will not be following you into hell."

Oh, so Minerva had told them everything. "Listen, Hershel, I don't know exactly what I missed but everything she told you is true."

"I refuse to believe a word of it. You are just a girl who is delusional and sick. Dissociative identity disorder, schizophrenia, exceptional acting, call it however you want, it is not real!"

"And the bow? Is that acting too?" The state of passiveness had flowed past, now she was frustrated as hell. "Do you think, maybe, that I'm just a really skilled magician? Is it sleight of hand when the arrows appear out of thin air? You think I hide them up my sleeve?" She stood, almost stomping her foot in indignation but not letting herself fall into the childish move.

Rick nodded at her and then faced Hershel, who kept his back turned to Diana. "What does she… what do we gain in lying?"

"Were you tryin' to make my Maggie join your little cult?" Hershel turned back around as if the realization hit him suddenly, totally ignoring Rick.

Diana furrowed her brow. "Cult? You mean back in her room? That was no fucking cult, man, I was trying to summon Minerva." Ah, shit, not the best phrasing.

"Summon her?!"

"That's not what I mean." But it was. "I… I…" For all the toughness she was putting up, she could feel it slowly tearing apart at the seams, replaced by frustration and anger. The tears already stung her sinuses and squeezed her throat. She fucking hated confrontation. "Look, I'm just surprised as you are! You think I asked for this? I live half afraid of flesh-eating creatures and half terrified of how people like you will react when they see what I can do!

And I'm giving you definite proof of a higher power, does it matter what form it takes? Isn't that enough? Are you really gonna put their existence on my shoulders? Why should I carry that burden? And why should I pay for something I had no choice in?"

In the following silence, Rick added, "Who are you to cast stones in the name of a god?"

Hershel's eyes were downturned, brow heavy and pensive.

Maybe her venting had served its purpose. But in the case that it hadn't, "Think what you want, I'm tired of having to justify myself to you. Me and my kids will be leaving in the morning."

Rick's eyes widened at her. "You can't be serious."

"As a grave." If a grave could bluff. Without another word or look back, Diana exited the room.

oOo

She took a shuddered breath once the door closed behind her, feeling her body tremble with the effects of adrenaline. The bow sent waves of a calming song that helped attenuate the stress and anxiety, but her legs still struggled to carry her weight up the stairs.

When she entered the newly assigned bedroom, Felix and Alice's heads perked up from where they'd been lounging – the bed and chaise lounge, respectively.

"So," Alice started, "how'd it go?" her tone was somewhat uninterested, but Diana knew better.

She propped the bow next to the bed and plopped down onto it with a resounding sigh, feeling Felix crawling over to lay beside her but upside down. Her fingers found his cropped hair and scratched softly at his scalp, to the boy's enjoyment. "Bad. Like really bad."

"Wanna tell?" Felix half purred.

"Nah, I wanna sleep." She closed her eyes and felt her body already begin to ache and the soft mattress molding under her weight. Some more seconds of silence and she would've been out like a light. "Tomorrow, someone asks, we're leavin' before the day ends."

From the sound of it, Alice fell off the chaise lounge. "We what?!"

Diana stopped massaging her brother's scalp and rolled over to face Alice, propping her head on her palm. "Hershel's a meanie and I'm tryna bluff."

"Ah, I get it." The girl nodded knowingly before climbing back onto the chaise and draping the blanket over her curled body.

"Guys, this has been a really exhausting day." A yawn ripped out of Diana's throat as she rolled back onto her back, her body agreeing with her words.

Felix yawned straight after with a sleepy nod, and Alice simply scoffed.

Diana could barely keep her eyes open as she peeled off her socks with her toes and began unbuttoning her pants. Her jeans were halfway down her thighs when a firm knock sounded at the door. Her mind first turned to Glenn, but he wouldn't knock.

"New room, who this?" Felix called out while sitting up, smirking at his sisters.

Diana was still too far gone to appreciate the humor, but Alice pointed a finger gun at him.

The door opened and the person standing there made Diana's heart pound like a drum, leaving her so faint, she couldn't even feel the tips of her toes. In the span of a second, she slid her pants back over her butt, buttoned and zipped them.

His hand adjusted nervously on the doorknob, and he looked anywhere but at her. "Mind if we talk?" Daryl asked.

When Diana had said they'd talk, she hadn't meant so soon. Her head was still reeling from what she'd seen at the library and that talk inside the drawing room. Her stomach roiled with nerves, making her want to vomit. She still nodded.

She didn't have time to respond before her siblings stood from their beds. "We already out," Alice said, narrowing her eyes at Daryl. "Don't take too long." To complete the effect, Felix pointed with two fingers from his eyes to the older man.

oOo

Daryl found the kids' reactions' endearing, even though he knew they meant it and he deserved it. How could their situation take such a turn with a simple word? He had fucked up and needed to make things right. Again.

He approached the bed, always followed closely by those big eyes, and with a gesture asked for permission to sit beside her. The darkness of the room, lit only by those same candles as before, gave the atmosphere an intimate quality. He felt his pulse strong at the base of his throat.

He took her in – the shorter hair suited her prominent cheekbones and long neck – he hadn't even had a chance to tell her how pretty she looked. He had never really complimented her outer appearance in general. The thoughts were there, but he found there were more important things to emphasize in Diana. She was much more than just a pretty face.

But not even these important things had he been able to say to her out loud, at least while she was sober.

"So," Diana started, voice small and weak. She cleared her throat and straightened herself, crossing her arms over her chest. "You wanna tell me what that was about before? What did you mean?"

He had meant to first ask how Minerva's shenanigans had ended, but if she wasn't broaching the subject, it meant she didn't want to talk about it. He would respect that.

"I meant exactly what I said," maybe his phrasing wasn't the best, but he continued, "Ya didn't know me and still trusted me with a dangerous secret. Ya didn't know what I coulda done, how I coulda reacted. You were reckless. And ya keep bein' reckless and unaware of danger."

"Oh, I'm perfectly aware of danger, but I choose to confront it. Doesn't that make me brave?"

"Brave enough to get yourself hurt or killed!"

"Is that what you're worried about?" Diana uncrossed her arms, letting her hands rest on her thighs, and Daryl wished he could reach out and take them.

He needed the physical assurance of her presence, seeing her before his eyes suddenly wasn't enough. Because she was right. He'd been worried she'd waltz her way into something she might never return from ever since she followed him out in search of his brother. She was brave, yes, but somehow devil-may-care, too optimistic that things would work out just the way she wanted.

"Yeah," was his honest answer, and it was like a weight was off his shoulders. "You tend to get hurt by strangers… includin' me."

Diana blinked at him in what he could only surmise as surprise. "Daryl, that's in our past now. And besides, you can't expect me to hold every person at arm's length just 'cause they could potentially hurt me. I admit that I'm scared now more than I used to be but I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt and hope they surprise me for the positive. Try to do the same."

"Too much to ask."

"Then have faith in me." Her hand covered his, soft and inviting.

Diana wasn't the type to let anyone tell her what to do, and Daryl wasn't about to attempt to. They were very much alike in that aspect. What he could and would do was stand by her side and give advice when needed.

He nodded; he couldn't share her idealistic vision, but he would have her back. Always.

"Okay, good." Diana tilted her head, the candlelight filling her dark eyes with a mischievous twinkle – God, he wanted to kiss her. "But to be honest, you coulda given it to me straight, I don't want miscommunication and misunderstandings and all that bullshit to be a problem with us." She looked shortly to the side with a deadpan face, like she was staring at something in particular, but he saw nothing but an empty wall. He decided not to question it.

"I ain't an ace at talking feelings."

Diana's lips upturned playfully. "Yeah, no shit, hadn't noticed."

He raised an eyebrow at her, holding back a sly smile. "You gettin' fresh with me, Diana?"

She smiled bashfully. "I'm serious about the communicating thing, though. I… I'm also working on that. It's not always easy."

Daryl preferred actions, but if words made Diana feel sure in their relationship, then he would verbalize the shit out of his feelings. Or at least he would try his damndest. "I'll try."

He moved their hands so he could lace their fingers together, and brought them to his lips, kissing the back of her hand, lingering on her warm skin, watching her turn her eyes away with a hint of coyness.

Even if that dark room, she shone. Despite every shitty thing that had happened to her, she shone. She had the blinding yet subtle glow of a full moon on a dark night; a beacon for his soul.

Daryl had never had the best self-image – when you grow up being called a nobody that would never amount to anything, you begin to believe it. Yet Diana made him feel otherwise. She believed in his worth and made him see it himself, little by little. With every look and smile, she made him feel special, worth knowing, somebody.

How could he tell her that he would break down mountains and part oceans to see her smile, that he believed in her with all his being, and that he would rather be thrown to the walkers than ever leave her side? The intensity of his thoughts scared him, but they were sincere.

How could he summarize something so fragile yet so complex in mere words? He had no fucking clue; he was no poet. He'd never had to open up about his emotions to anyone, let alone someone who touched his heart and warmed his soul as much as this woman.

He wanted to kiss her.

He needed to kiss her.

As much as he needed air to fill his lungs.

His body leaned towards her as if drawn in by gravity, their joined hands pressed against his pounding chest, and her face turned to him in surprise. Daryl kissed the tip of her nose – making her cross her eyes and then blink them straight – then rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed in sweet torture.

He could smell something sweet on her, like a hint of perfume that had long faded. Their breaths mingled, and Diana cleared her throat. "Daryl?"

"Can I kiss you?" He'd never asked that before. The anticipation of her answer thrilled him. He wanted to hear her say it.

The whisper was faint but he heard it well enough, "Kiss me."

He opened his eyes and leaned back to see her. Her whiskey eyes were dark but so full of sweetness. Her fingers traced his jaw, light as a feather and hot as a flame, landing on his lower lip, her thumb pulling down at the flesh, parting them while she looked at him with that look of innocence.

The door burst open, and Diana almost flew off the bed if their hands hadn't been joined.

Daryl glared at Glenn, who stood at the entrance with a flushed face and a rifle in his hands. His wide eyes didn't register the sight in front of him, and he spoke a single word, "Walkers."


i love every single one of u