AN: This was a little five minute "write" that I challenged myself to do. It's just a simple little thing.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"You said you didn't want anything," Daryl said.
He bit into his burger and chewed through the bite of food. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she was watching him. She was staring hard at his lips. She let her eyes drift to his hands for just a moment before she brought them back to rest on his lips again.
She tipped her head to the side, her brow furrowed, and her tongue darted out to taste her bottom lip before it darted back in again. Daryl loved her lips. He was not, however, overly fond of the sincerely meant pout that she was wearing.
"Don't look at me like I just kicked you in the shins," Daryl said after he'd swallowed down the bite of burger. "I asked you. Called you. I said whatta you want from town? And you said you ain't wanted a thing."
"I didn't know you were going to the Dairy-O," Carol pouted.
"Where the hell'd you think I was going?" Daryl asked.
"You've been going to the fish place the last couple of times that you picked anything up," Carol said. "I thought you were going there." She shook her head. "I don't like the fries there. They taste like fish and…that doesn't agree with me lately."
"Did you ever think of just asking me to go to the Dairy-O?" Daryl asked.
Carol's frown only deepened. Daryl laughed to himself.
"You look any sadder," Daryl warned, "and you gonna look like a Basset Hound, meltin' in the sun over there."
"The baby really likes French fries," Carol said with a sigh, picking at a piece of splintered wood on the aging park picnic table.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Don't you use my kid against me," he warned.
"I guess—it's better if…he gets used to disappointment early," Carol said.
Daryl smirked to himself when he caught her peeking at him, just barely, while she pretended to be focused on the piece of wood she was harassing with her fingernail. He shook his head and pushed the cardboard basket of fries in her direction.
"Carin' is sharin'," he teased. "Eat the fries." Carol smiled, immediately cheered, and half-jumped toward the fries before she stopped.
"No," she said. "You're right. I don't want to take your food. I said I didn't want any."
Daryl laughed to himself and, from the paper bag he'd rested on the bench beside him, he fished out a second cardboard basket of fries.
"Good damn thing, Carol, that I know you better'n that."
