Daryl hid out at the bar for a very long time, not knowing she had a split shift. He wasn't ready to face her. He just kept thinking over and over in his head what he was going to say and what he could possibly do. Or, if she'd me the first one to say something. With everyone up his ass about what had happened, it was almost a confirmation to what he had believed. What he'd been pointlessly pushing away. There were so many times her flirtatious mannerisms seemed almost calculated. But he could never tell. He really was that stupid, Merle knew that.

When he finally found himself at home, he hesitated to go inside. The truck was home, and the lights were out. But that didn't mean she wasn't waiting like The Godfather – or Dr. Evil – for him. Not that he had a swivelling chair of any kind to make it as dramatic as she'd probably like to. She wasn't about to back down from a fight.

"You're too old for these games, Dixon." Daryl mumbled to himself, as he finally opened the door. When he flicked on the lights, it wasn't at all what he'd been expecting. To his surprise, it was like almost every other night he came home after her. She was there, asleep on the couch, still in her uniform and with that stupid book resting on her chest.

He let out a long huff of air and stared at her for a few seconds. He couldn't help but feel like he'd gotten a get out of jail free card, for the time being at least. So, like almost every other night, Daryl started walking passed her to his room. However, a little voice inside his head told him to stop. He wasn't exactly sure why, but at that moment he told himself it was so he wouldn't have to hear her complain about a sore back the next day, on top of everything else.

Tentatively, Daryl backtracked to the front of the couch and crouched down. He gently took the book off her chest and turned around to set it on the coffee table. When he turned back around, she was all the same. Her eyes were close, with messy strands of blonde hair falling in front of them; and being moved ever so slightly as she breathed. Maybe she was already peaceful where she was. Daryl hadn't done anything yet and he could still back out while he had the chance. No harm, no foul.

But then again...

Before Daryl could talk himself out of it completely, he scooped his arms underneath her and quickly lifted her off the couch. For a second he thought he'd woken her up, but she simply took a deep breath and curled her body into his. Then her chest was back to its normal and steady rhythm.

Feeling a little relieved, Daryl began to pack Beth to her room, careful not to jostle her anymore than he already had. He took a moment to saviour the content look on her face as she was pressed against him, then set her down gently on her always crisp and clean duvet. Daryl then hauled the blanket she kept folded at the end of the bed a covered her with it. Then, as slow and careful as he was in getting her there, he was quicker to make an exit. Daryl strode across the living room, with his steps as wide as he could possibly make them, and he almost made it to his bedroom.

Almost.

Before he could make it all the way there, he heard the sound of bare feet on the wood floors, padding after him. Daryl turned around to see Beth, pausing by her door frame, looking quite flustered. He thought that, maybe this was the moment they would have it out. But she didn't sound frustrated, and Daryl raised an eyebrow her as she opened her mouth and single word came out:

"Wait."

He stood, and waited, as he was told; but Beth didn't move for what seemed like a century. When she did move, she walked towards Daryl and all the thoughts running through his mind stopped him from trying to read her body language. That is until she was right in front of him, not even a foot away. Then he could see, she wanted something. But she didn't know how to ask for it. So, she's just kept her mouth slightly open, with no words coming out; and Daryl sure as hell didn't know what he was supposed to do. He'd been ready for a fight, not this.

They were both petrified; and neither one of them wanted to make the first move in case they were wrong. In case what they wanted was wrong. But he did know her, after all those months; and she sure as hell knew how to read him like a book when she wanted to. Daryl didn't think he deserved her. She was girl who felt the need to place the weight of the world on her shoulders, to keep others from suffering. She was anxious, and sometimes she had a hard time controlling her emotions; but, she was also bold and hard working, and her smile never failed to light up a room. Even swear words sounded sweet coming out of her mouth. He was rough around the edges, with a past he didn't know how to explain.

But why bother with what if?

In the time they stool there, Daryl watched as Beth started to move her hand toward her hair; the nervous tick Daryl knew too well. But in that instance, he wasn't going to stand there and watch her play with her hair for ten minutes while babbling some nonsense, before they both decided to turn back and lay awake wondering.

Daryl's hand went up and grasped her wrist before the blonde could reach a single strand of her hair. He didn't grasp it too hard, but hard enough for her to look up at him in surprise.

Her eyes were wide, he didn't take his gaze off of her though, he was tired on missing out of the medley of blues that played around her irises. She didn't pull away either. Instead, Beth parted her lip a little further. It wasn't so she could say a single word, however. It was simply his cue to finish what he started.

Without even a second more of hesitation, he pulled her in.