Daryl could sense her unease and he liked it. He saw the way the small smile she'd forced on her face fell, when he'd opened the door. He watched as her anxiety grew when Beth hugged her and overloaded her with her enthusiasm. Saw as it faded just a bit, with Annette's kind face and simple welcome and grew again slightly with the appearance of Hershel. It made him happy, the fact that she was uncomfortable. He was glad that she was on edge. It would show him her true nature.
To be fair, though, it took him a long time to feel calm in this house. It was so unlike the one he'd grown up in, not only physically but emotionally. He'd never met people like the Greene's before and he doubted that he ever would again.
Before meeting Hershel and Annette he'd never had a bed, let alone a room of his own. He'd never known what having a full stomach felt like. Before coming to this house, he didn't know that a reaching hand could result in a gentle touch rather than a slap or punch. He didn't know that the spectrum of human emotion included things like love, happiness and kindness. He didn't know that mothers were supposed to hug their children, and worry over their wellbeing. He didn't know that fathers were supposed to be heroes and mentors. There were a lot of things Daryl didn't know or have before meeting the Greene's.
He wondered if she knew these things, if they were taught to her at a young age, or if she had to learn with time, like he did. He guesses so, her background points to a happy childhood. Daryl gives her another once-over, watching her as she chatted with his family. Pretty blue dress, nice shoes, hair all done up and a hint of makeup. Yeah, he thought, she's nothing like me.
She turned towards him then, sensing his stare. Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she wasn't expecting her gut to be right, and her cheeks reddened a little. He didn't expect that. The women who looked at him weren't the blushing type. They were the type to get down on their knees in front of him without even exchanging names and walk away afterwards without so much as a goodbye. They were hardened women with nothing else to lose, because that's the type he was too. Or, he used to be, once upon a time. He was still hard. He'd just found things to hold onto now.
No, the women who looked at Daryl weren't the type to blush, but this one was.
She felt someone looking at her, she felt it like she could feel her own skin. And she tried not to look, she really did. She tried to focus on what Beth was saying but the girl was blabbering faster than anyone Sovay had ever seen and it didn't seem like she'd be stopping anytime soon. But when she glanced at Sam and the Greene's, she realized that this must be a normal thing. So she tried to listen. It just wasn't working out as well as she hoped. And it didn't help that she was getting distracted by the feeling of being watched.
She was only going to take a quick look. She really was. It wasn't her fault that when she did turn her head towards the bearish man, Sovay was taken aback by the look in his eyes. It was like he was reading her, testing her and devouring her all with one stare. It was both terrifying and thrilling, and she couldn't stop the heat from rushing to her cheeks.
She hoped with everything she had that he didn't notice it, but of course he did. He noticed everything. It was one of the first things she knew with certainty about him.
She tried to look away, to hide her embarrassment, but she found that she couldn't, her eyes locked with his. He looked the same as he had earlier in the day, and yet completely different. He still had on an old flannel and ripped jeans, still had the unkept hair falling in his face and no trace of a smile to be found. While he could fit into a place standing next to Detective Grimes at the bed & breakfast earlier, he looked completely out of place sitting in the Greene's kitchen. In no way, would she ever imagine a man like him sitting in a room such as this, all white and spacious, clean and decorated, lived in. It looked wrong against his tan skin and grungy appearance. His setting would be in a darkened biker bar, or a cabin in the woods. Not here. Never here.
She realized, as she sat there and took in the man, that he, that his place in this room, was like herself. A dark, looming spot inside of a prettily decorated hollow space.
She was dressed nicely, plastering a smile on her face for these strangers, while the feeling of something murky lingered, creeping around somewhere inside of her desperate to be let out. It wasn't something new, wasn't even something she was unfamiliar with. She'd lived with this feeling for most of his life. Sure, it had changed over the years, migrating to different parts of her and changing it's shape and purpose. Sometimes it would tell her that she wasn't good enough. Sometimes it told her to run. Occasionally it'd tell her to survive no matter the cost.
Sometimes she listened.