Free form.

Not confirming to a regular or formal structure, or shape.

Beth remembers learning that definition in school. It's how she feels in the days after her breakdown: free form. Losing all sense of time and direction, nothing shaping their days but the rise and fall of the sun. Not adhering to regular protocol of grief but skirting right around it day after day after day. Daryl adapts to her state of being, to her emotions. Accommodates by not talking, by not really interacting with her and it's tugging her in two, trying to be okay with it and yet craving physical touch; affection. Daryl's not a particularly affectionate person and certainly never has been towards her, so she doesn't know why she has this irrational need for him to hold her.

Maybe it's because the days are slipping by into weeks and she's floating around like a mindless puppet, just existing. Numb and broken and lost but totally devoid of emotion, feeling nothing and sometimes, in breath taking moments, feeling everything. It's killing her, the loneliness, when it hits her and the numbness when that takes her too. Like when a limb falls asleep and it doesn't quite hurt but it's uncomfortable; she's painfully aware of it. Night after night she lies still and quiet, not touching anything or anyone, barely feeling the heat or the cold, barely feeling anything at all but as the weeks roll by things change.

The silence continues but the looks he gives her are different. Lingering, communicating something with an urgency that burns in her stomach, stirring long forgotten embers of the girl she used to be. The girl that would have crushes, that would flirt with smiles and looks. Their words come back to them, slow and halting but creeping into existence once more. When she slips off her clothes to wash she catches his flush cheeks and when he does it, she peeks at him rising from the water dipping. On one such day he glances up at her watching him and she notices a corner of his mouth tug up when he turns away.

After he climbs out, she passes him his clothes while looking away and even though they're not looking at each other, they're touching. The tips of his fingers against hers before his touch disappears. That begins the days where little touches start to grow, leading them to tonight. Leading them to a point that feels like it's been on boil for days now, sweaty days full of halting conversation, looks and touches that spike her pulse point, that distracts her from the truth of their situation. Daryl's shoulder brushes hers when he sits beside her and she shivers into awareness.

Hot sparks roll through her chest, hotter and more intense than ever before, setting her heart fluttering immediately. Her eyes flick up to look at his and he's looking at her, really looking at her and she feels so exposed she wants to turn away but can't. She can't when he's looking at her like that, she has to keep looking back, has to keep falling deeper into his gaze, into his gorgeous eyes. His hand raises, shaking like he doesn't know if he's allowed to do what he's thinking. She strains towards him, craning her neck, lips parting and chest heaving as his palm covers her cheek.

His skin is warm from the fire he built and it sends tingles throughout her mouth, like popping candy in the back of her throat. Her lips become bone dry and she flicks her tongue out to wet them, her stomach flipping as his eyes follow the movement. A tug between her legs startles her and she flushes, glancing away quickly like he'll see in her gaze what he's doing to her by simply cupping her face. With his hand on her cheek he remains completely still until she turns her face back to him. When she connects eyes with him, the look she finds there is like he wants to do something, like he wants to kiss her or pull her closer for a hug but can't.

He's trying to tell her with his gaze that it is what he wants but he's too scared to do it, maybe because he believes he'll be rejected for his efforts. Except they've spent weeks in silence and misery, weeks being lost and she just wants to be found again. Beth pushes to her knees and takes his face in her hands, still looking at him wordlessly.

"Beth," he mumbles weakly. "I-"

She cuts him off with her mouth, her hands slipping down to cup his throat, her thumb sliding over his Adam's apple. He groans against her lips and parts his own, breathing his excitement in a heavy pant that she swallows. Taking her roughly by the hips in a bold move she never expected from him, he presses her back into the blanket they're lying on. Beth falls back with him, her legs sliding open so he can fit between them, his lips still moving frantically against hers, slicking her chin wet with their excitement. Moaning softly, she tips her neck to accommodate his aggressive passion, her hands riding the buttons of his shirt down to his belt buckle.

Kissing Daryl is like kissing a whole other man. The man she's been glimpsing the past couple of days, the man whose fingers have been brushing hers, whose conversation has been shy and halting in case he upsets her and sends her running. He's been so good to her and maybe that's why he's been so shy, but she can't pretend she's not enjoying this version of him, this version he's letting out for her.

Daryl chokes into her mouth as his own hand falls on top of hers. They pull away to pant in each other's faces. "You don't have to. Jesus, I don't even know…" he trails off, his eyes bouncing between hers. "What the hell're we doin', girl?" He whispers.

Free form, she thinks desperately, her eyes searching his. "Living," is what she answers.

He frowns at her in confusion but lets her take his mouth once more, her hand tugging at his belt until she yanks it out. Beth gently bites his lower lip and sucks on it as her hand slips beneath the waist band in her way. Daryl moans heatedly against her cheek as his lips slide there. She strains upwards to keep them connected as her hand wraps around his straining cock. His breath pants against her collar bone as he tips his head against her shoulder, his hands a rock solid grip on her hips.

"You're so big," she whispers in his ear.

Daryl shivers as he pushes his hips forward, forcing his cock through her hand in the tight confides of his underwear. Pre-cum smears all over her fingers and palm, helping her to glide down his shaft as she pushes gently against his thrust. Another sound worms out of him, sending a hot shiver down her spine.

"Fuckkk," he groans deliciously.

Her palm feels damp with sweat and pre-cum, as well as the heat of Daryl's hard cock. Her skin is prickled with goose bumps and hot beads of sweat run down her forehead, down between her breasts. The flutters in her stomach are as excited as her hand as it squeezes Daryl's dick and pumps at it softly, her thumb dancing over his sensitive head. His hips move with reckless abandon, fucking into her fist like it's her cunt, with all the drive and excitement she wishes she had between her legs right now. Her pussy is throbbing, her veins flushed with arousal but she doesn't want to stop hearing Daryl's noises long enough to let him slide inside her.

"Jesus, Beth, m'not gonna last," he sobs before he bites her earlobe.

The feeling that pours down her neck and tightens her nipples is like an orgasm but with the intensity turned down so it's a softer wave that leaves her trembling. Desperate for him to feel what she does, she squeezes hurriedly and pumps her hand faster.

Daryl's breaths become heavy and fast, punching deep into her eardrum as his hips speed up too. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants as he fumbles at his jeans, pushing his dick all the way free.

Beth looks down at it, seeing by the firelight the swollen purple head and then the stream of hot white cum as it pours in reams beside her hip. She moans under her breath, her cunt pounding fiercely as her nipples tighten to painful tips.

Daryl lets out one more choked groan before his head crashes against her shoulder. "Holyfuck."

A crazy giggle bursts from her lips that spreads warm embers throughout her chest and then all of a sudden she's laughing. Real dizzying laughter that sweeps her away. Her body is flooded with sparks and fireworks, pounding and pulling and burning. She's alive. So alive. Spinning through time and space on fire, crashing to the ground in a blaze right into Daryl's arms. She takes a breath and then her laughter is tears.

Wordlessly, Daryl wraps his arms around her and she knows he understands when he holds her close and whispers, "m'not goin' anywhere, Beth. S'just us now. Me an' you an' I promise, I got you."