Die For You

Previously...

"Hmmm." He murmured, hands leaving my bandage, letting my shirt fall back down. His hands settled on my hips, his breathing heavy. I could tell he was caught between acting on what he was feeling, and maybe not knowing how. He was staring at my lips, licking his own. I shifted so my back was in the corner between the wall and the cabinet. He shifted with me, face dangerously close to mine. I could smell the cigarette he'd been smoking mixed with the bread he'd just eaten. He leaned closer until his lips were less than an inch from mine. I leaned up on my toes to close the distance between us when a crash from the hallway jerked us apart.

Suddenly Daryl was across the room, crossbow in place, stalking towards the door. Rick appeared in the doorway, holding a cup in his hand. "Sorry." He grinned sheepishly. "It slipped outta ma' hand."

"Jesus," Daryl swore. "I coulda killed ya." He scoffed, settling his weapon back in place. I had yet to move from my place plastered in the corner against the cabinet, chest heaving. What the hell had just happened?

Chapter 4

West Georgia Correctional Facility

Rick set the glass down next to our dishes at the sink and took a moment to look at the two of us. Daryl stood by the door, foot propped up on one of the stools, studying his nails. I slumped against the counter, clutching my ribs. He cocked an eyebrow, sensing the tension between us. I shot him a look that I hoped pled for his silence. I pushed off the counter to begin making my way back upstairs when Rick scoffed and shook his head, stopping me in my tracks.

"Are you packing?" Rick asked, taking two strides toward me. I instinctively reached back for my gun, making Rick palm the butt of his gun.

"Now, hold on." I insisted, my other hand out to my side in a surrender gesture. "Just for the walkers, Chief."

Daryl was back at my side again, positioning himself between us. "The passageway isn't secure." He assured Rick.

"Then why go out there?" Rick questioned, his voice rising in concern.

I stepped forward pulling out my gun. "Here." I held onto the barrel, holding out the grip for Rick to take. "I had it out of habit."

Rick and Daryl shared a look. Rick nodded and Daryl stepped back so I could hand the leader my piece. "Thank you." Rick murmured. "It's only temporary, won't be long-"

"It's fine." I assured him. "I understand."

"Good." Rick nodded, tucking my gun into his waistband. He nodded to the two of us, continuing through the cafeteria, away from Cell Block C. That was curious. Why would he be headed that way this time of night?

I shook the questions away, feeling my eyelids begin to droop. It was definitely time I got back in bed. I slumped against the counter again, taking a few deep breaths. Daryl was back in front of me, this time he didn't touch me. "Need to get back upstairs before you pass out, Roz." He murmured, watching me carefully.

I flashed a quick smile. "Sounds good, Ace." I pushed off the counter and took a few steps before the world began to spin. "Oh, shit." I groaned.

Daryl caught me before I face planted on the cement floor. He grunted, hauling me upright. He scooped me up, carrying me bridal style again down the cell block. This time I was too far gone to care how it looked. Thankfully most of the cells were dark, since the hour was so late. I clung to his chest, my fingers gripping the leather of his vest. When we reached the top of the stairs he went immediately into the guardpost and set me back down on my feet.

I plopped ungracefully down on my cot, taking a moment to breathe. Daryl sank to his knees, untying my boots. "I'm not a child." I winced, leaning back so he could pull off the right one.

"Didn't say you were." Daryl answered, pulling out my bowie knife as if to prove his point. He set the knife in my other boot before pulling the second off. He set the pair under my cot and sat up on the unused cot, knees almost touching mine. "How's yer breathin'?" He asked, voice gruff, sounding like he could use some sleep too.

"Fine." I shrugged, not meeting his concerned gaze.

"Roz," Daryl protested. I could feel the annoyance in his voice. I still refused to meet his gaze. My mind was too full. First the too close encounter with Lil' Ass Kicker, then his explosive reaction and now our almost kiss in the cafeteria. I was shutting down.

"I said I'm fine, Daryl." I insisted, leaning over to blow out the lantern. I gingery stretched out on the cot, staring at the ceiling, willing my breathing to slow down. The pain medicine was kicking in and I was losing the battle of consciousness.

I awoke with a gasp; my ribs were too tight for me to comfortably draw a deep breath. Panic threatened to overtake me as I sat up, clutching my ribs. I choked back a sob of desperation, hoping not to alert the room's other occupant to my dilemma. I swung my legs off the edge of the cot, hands on my knees, willing my muscles to relax.

"Ya a'right?" Daryl rasped in the darkness. I could tell he wanted to alert me that he was near, probably was afraid I'd slit his throat first and ask questions later. I didn't answer, I couldn't really. "Roz," Daryl murmured, sliding towards me so his knees encased mine. "C'mon, you gotta calm down." My hand shot out and gripped his forearm painfully. "Jesus." He cursed.

I loosen my grip a little. "Sorry." I croaked, tears welling in my eyes. I was always an anxiety sufferer. After the Apocalypse happened, it seemed to ramp up into an even higher gear. "P-panic a-at-tack." I choked out, trying to explain my sudden state of hysteria.

I could feel the uncertainty coming off Daryl in waves. This wasn't something he was well versed in. "How do I, uh," He swallowed. "What'd ya need, Roz?" He asked quietly, gripping my forearms gently. I leaned forward and he instinctively met me in the middle, pressing his forehead against mine. The sensation grounded me, bringing me back to reality.

"P-perfect." I hiccuped, squeezing his arms in a gesture of affirmation.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, my breathing slowing down to a more manageable rasp. I leaned away, straightening up my spine, feeling my chest muscles scream in agony. I reached for the pill bottle, but Daryl already had it open and was handing me two little white pills of rescue. "Thanks." I whispered, swallowing the pills. I slowly made my way to the restroom and back.

When I returned to the guardpost, Daryl was propped up at the head of his bed, pillows between him and the wall. His left leg was bent, giving me easy access to slide into the bed with him, resuming our posture from the night before. I hesitated at the door, clutching my side.

"C'mere, woman." Daryl drawled. I couldn't see his face but I'm sure he was annoyed at my hesitation.

"Sorry," I sighed, sliding into the bed, scooting backwards until my back rested against his chest.

Daryl scoffed, "Nothin' ta be sorry for." He sighed, sweeping my hair over my shoulder out of his face. "It's what we do, 'member?"

Sanctuary

Negan smirked. "That is incredibly sweet, Roz." He sighed. "I'll be honest, I was hoping things got freaky between the two of you right off the bat."

I yawned, covering my mouth for a moment. "Yeah, not quite that exciting just yet." I chuckled, glancing around the room. It looked like it was now fully dark outside. When I awoke earlier, dusk had just set in. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but things aren't quite as freaky as you've imagined between us."

Negan took quick breath, changing the subject, "Sounds like you and 'Rick the prick' had a rocky start." He observed, lifting an eyebrow.

I bit my lip, wondering where he was headed with this new line of questioning. "Uh well, he was a little out of his head. Losing Lori really took a toll on him for awhile." I explained, "Eventually I fit right in, even sat on the leaders council at the prison after the Governor tried to wipe us out the first time."

"The Governor?" Negan scoffed, quirking his brow.

"There was a settlement called Woodbury, quite like Alexandria actually, east of the prison." I took a sip of wine, "The Governor was-"

"Let me guess," Negan leaned back, seemingly intrigued, "their leader."

"Yeah." I smirked, polishing off my glass. He stood up to grab another bottle. "I'm good." I waved him off, setting my glass down on the table. "Thank you."

Negan frowned, now that was a sight to behold. Apparently me remaining sober wasn't his idea of a good time. Before the Apocalypse, I could drink with the best of 'em. After? I'd lost twenty pounds, and rarely had one drink, let alone a couple. I was definitely a fucking lightweight.

"You really want me to tell you about the Governor?" I lamented, brow furrowing. I really didn't want to talk about him, not with having Daryl being tortured downstairs. We went through Hell together, lost our home and a lot of good people, but there was a time when life wasn't so bad. I could talk about that. "How about I tell you about the first run Daryl and I did by ourselves?"

Negan smiled. "That interesting, eh?"

I laughed, "Yeah, actually." I smirked. "Things got a little freaky on that run."

West Georgia Correctional Facility

"Quit yer primpin' and get out here, Red!" Daryl called from outside the main building. He was making his way towards the outdoor kitchen, a few people were starting to get breakfast together.

I emerged from the building , giving the surly archer the finger while shouldering my backpack. "Calm your sweet ass down, Dixon!" I yelled back, clomping down the steps. "I was saying goodbye to Beth and baby Judith." I explained, playfully bumping shoulders with him.

Daryl opened his mouth to reply, but the people at the picnic tables called out to us. "Good morning Daryl! Morning Roz!" They seemed way too excited to see us. "Good luck today!" another one called with a warm smile. Jesus. Did we suddenly have a supply of coffee that I didn't know about?

Carol sauntered over, looking rather pleased with herself. "Breakfast." She handed us each a foil packet. "Quite the celebrities, aren't we?" She quipped, crossing her arms, eyes bouncing between the two of us. I rolled my eyes and scoffed, Daryl looked oblivious. "Gonna have to get used to it," She insisted. "You two do a lot for this place." We almost always took first watch, Glenn and Maggie after us, and handled hunting for fresh meat and the various herbs that Hershel needed. I guess the steady diet of forest creatures kept the masses happy.

Daryl just shrugged, opening up his foil packet. Carol reached behind the counter and handed me a paper sack. "Some provisions until you find more." She squeezed my shoulder affectionately. I'd come to think of Carol as an older sister.

I nodded my thanks. "You always keep us fresh, Carol." I smirked, sharing a knowing look with her. It was amazing to belong somewhere.

"My pleasure." She smiled, heading back over to the grill. "You two be careful out there."

I smirked. "I will if he will." I quipped with a wink to Carol, following Daryl out from under the shelter of the kitchen towards his motorcycle.

He settled on the bike, bringing it to life. I unwrapped my breakfast sandwich and climbed on, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder so I could use my other to eat. I scooted up close, my knees hugging his hips. I gave a quick squeeze to his shoulder to indicate I was settled.

We roared out of the prison gate, Maggie pulled it open for us with a wave and a tight smile.

As we made our way out onto the main road, my mind drifted back to two nights ago when I overheard Rick and Daryl discussing me joining Daryl on a run.

I was headed back to the guardpost after our watch shift when I came across Rick and Daryl having a pow-wow of sorts. They stood outside the post, talking in hushed voices. I quickly flattened myself back into the shadows hoping they hadn't noticed me.

"Red's real good in a pinch." Daryl insisted. I think he started calling me by my hair color to get back at me for calling him 'ace'. "I know she hasn't been around forever, but I trust her-"

"With yer life?" Rick asked.

Daryl was quiet a moment and my heart stopped. "Yeah." He drawled. Oh lord. I wasn't sure how he was going to answer that. We'd become closer over the last few months, but men like Daryl Dixon were hard to read.

"You sure that's all this is?" Rick squinted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"What?" Daryl scoffed, "What else would it be?"

Rick chuckled. "You two have been spending a lot of time together 's all." He drawled.

Daryl scoffed again. "You too, eh?" Rick's brows rose. "Carol, man. She won't shut up about it."

This time Rick actually laughed, low and quiet. "Well, all I can say is if you don't do something, someone else will, brother. You'd have to be blind not to see how gorgeous she is."

Daryl looked a little taken aback by this admission. "I trust her, she's capable, that's it. Why does it have to be more?" My heart sank a little. Rick called me gorgeous and Daryl just steamrolled right over it.

Rick sniffed, still looking amused. "A'right." He palmed his jaw. "You two go out and see if the town looks worth bringing a larger group to."

"Ya with me, Roz?!"

Daryl's shout brought me back to reality. I swallowed the last of my sandwich. "Hang a left at the next intersection, Ace." I spoke into his ear, my lips brushing his cheek, the stubble there sharp against my skin. We were headed out to a small town, west of the prison, that was in the butt crack of nowhere even before the dead began walking. There was a military surplus and general store that I hoped was still intact. After all this time, there was definitely the risk it had been picked over which was why were doing this run with minimal support.

We rode for about twenty miles and the remnants of what looked like a herd crossed our path. I gripped Daryl's left shoulder and leaned over his right, holding out my handgun that I'd fitted with a silencer. I took down the walkers that got too close or were just in the way as we whizzed past. I pretty much felt like a complete badass; riding on the back of Daryl's chopper, shootin' geeks with a silly smile on my lips. I almost forgot they were flesh hungry zombies instead of my personal shooting range. We were clear after a few minutes and I holstered my gun, settling back in place behind Daryl.

His hand dropped down to rest on my knee, making me jump. I felt rather than heard him chuckle. "Good shootin', Red." He shouted so I could hear him. He squeezed before he let go, the added gesture of affection caused my stomach to flip.

Two could play that game. I leaned forward, my right palm sliding along his thigh, lips to his ear. "Sure thang, Ace." I drawled before sliding my hand back up to his hip, feeling him stiffen. I left my hand there for support and to prove a point. There was definitely more to this than just having each other's backs. I hoped we'd be able to hash this out before the tension ate me alive.

The tiny town came into view an hour later. Not even a stoplight was present in the sleepy little ghost town, just a four way stop sign. It looked mostly untouched, which was comforting and eerie all at the same time. Daryl cut the engine of the chopper and we coasted in between the row of buildings, down the main drag. I pointed to the Military Surplus sign on our right. Daryl hit the brakes and guided the bike to a stop on the side of the shop. Everything looked clear outfront. Time to make sure the it was the same in the back.

Daryl took lead, crossbow at the ready. I held my pistol, silencer in place, glued to his right shoulder. He tried the back door. Locked. He knocked on the glass, hoping to wake up any walkers who'd gone dormant. We waited a few moments, nothing. So, I knelt down and picked the lock, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Once I had the door open I resumed my position behind him. Usually we had someone else like Sasha bringing up the rear. It was definitely a big step just being the two of us.

We entered the building, the door swinging softly shut behind us. I turned the lock for security and split off from Daryl, swinging to the right. We methodically cleared each aisle until we arrived at the storeroom. I pounded on the door, just loud enough to wake anything inside. We heard a lone, low snarl.

"Bingo." I smiled. "I got this." I nodded for him to open the door. There were two walkers, so I unsheathed two knives. I took a quick breath and threw the knives at the same time. They hit their targets, and each walker collapsed with a sloppy, sick thud. I stepped forward to pull out the knives when I felt fingers close around my ankle. "Shit!" I exclaimed, "The floor!" I shouted. Daryl charged in the room to find a dormant walker waking up to wrap its fingers around my leg. He quickly fired a bolt into its skull, and knelt down to inspect my ankle. "Thank God for combat boots." I scoffed as he straightened, satisfied I was still in one piece. I finished wiping my knives and turned to survey our surroundings now that it was secure. "Yahtzee." I murmured, striding over to a shelf overflowing with ammunition.

"Damn." Daryl swore, joining me at the shelving unit. I unshouldered my bag and put a couple of boxes of standard rounds in my pack. "This is a good find, Red." He murmured, moving further into the room. "Get a load of this!" He exclaimed softly. There were four large boxes of MRE's sealed up and ready for transport. Looked like we were going to need a bigger vehicle than just the chopper.

"Nice." I agreed. "Let's check the store and see if there's any clothing I can get for Carol and the girls." He nodded. We were all getting a little threadbare in our everyday clothes. This store had generic tops and bottoms that would be good for the growing little ones too.

I went back out into the main room of the store and began rifling through the clothing racks. All in all I was able to find some small and medium tops and bottoms that would hold us over for the time being. I tossed a brand new sleeveless flannel at Daryl, he wrinkled his nose for a moment, but eventually nodded his thanks. It would be nice to put on a shirt and not have to pray that it didn't fall apart in your hands. Daryl sliced open one of the MRE boxes to grab us a couple of meals for the road and put them in his pack.

A rumble overhead caused a shiver of unease to slide down my spine. Daryl squinted as the light dimmed, motioning towards the door. I unlocked it and eased it open. The smell of rain hit me first as the wind picked up, hair whipping around my face. I turned to the west and the sky was extremely dark, almost black. Just peachy. I turned to go back inside, instead I face planted into Daryl's chest. "Shit." I swore, gripping the front of his shirt. "Sorry."

"One track mind?" Daryl teased, taking a step back so I could slide through the doorway.

"Something like that." I mumbled, making a quick trip through the store for a few more supplies. I had the feeling we were going to need to find shelter. I wanted to make sure we had matches, a lantern, and a dry blanket. I didn't fancy fending for ourselves in a storm, but it didn't look like we were going to have much choice. I stuffed everything into my pack and joined Daryl back at the door.

"All set?" He asked, eyeing my pack.

"Yeah." I nodded, holding up a set of keys I'd snatched from behind the counter. I tossed and caught them, fishing out the exterior key. I turned the deadbolt and we moved quickly back to the chopper.

"We're gonna need shelter." Daryl drawled, straddling the bike, glancing back at me.

I slid on behind him. "You wanna stay here?" I suggested, hoping he'd say no. The quietness of the place was giving me the creeps.

He shook his head. "There's that hunting cabin between here and the prison." He'd originally found the place with Michonne. I thought maybe they had a thing. Michonne found the suggestion hilarious. She'd thought Daryl and I were a thing. I was beginning to think everyone else but us thought we were an item.

Thunder rolled almost overhead. Good thing we were headed east, might give us a chance to get there dry. "Sounds like a plan, Ace." I agreed, sliding my bag between us to keep it dry. "Let me wear the bow," I began sliding the strap off his torso. He whipped around to look at me. "Don't worry, I'm not stealing it. Gotta keep our stuff dry." I motioned to our bags nestled between us. He looked me over once, then relented, letting me take the bow from him. I settled it around me, feeling very powerful. I leaned forward, sealing my bag away from the elements, wrapping my arms around his torso.

He kicked the bike to life and rolled out from the protection of the building into the wind. I was suddenly very glad to have an excuse to be tucked up so close to him, the wind was cool despite the rising Georgia heat. We roared out of the sleepy little town, a couple of stray walkers shuffling after us.

The hunting cabin was at least clean. Sometimes when we got caught out on runs, the places we had to hunker down in were almost as bad as the storms we were weathering. Daryl brought the bike to a stop and I helped him push the machine up under the overhang so it had some shelter. Thunder rolled overhead, the smell of rain grew stronger as the wind became a steady stream through the trees.

I set our packs on the porch so I could give Daryl his crossbow back. He stood behind me and cleared his throat. "Looks good on ya." He drawled, fingers taking ahold of the strap over my shoulder. I turned at the sound of his voice and felt my breath catch at the sight of him. I bit my lip, I could feel the tension between us as keenly as the energy of the oncoming storm. He looked nervous about touching me, which was odd, he touched me all the time. Maybe he was nervous about spending the night completely alone with me? Hell, I was nervous, too. We usually had a whole prison full of people around us. He quickly transferred the bow from my torso to his and headed for the cabin, breaking me out of my reverie.

We took shelter inside the small one room cabin not a moment too soon. The sky opened up and with a booming clap of thunder, rain pelted the earth, lightning illuminating the forest. I made quick work of lighting the firewood I'd gathered from the porch upon our arrival. Next I stashed our packs on the table between the living area and the bed. Oh. I'd forgotten there was just one bed. Daryl was rummaging around in the cabinets, searching for something.

"Something I can help you find, Ace?" I opened a cabinet, surveying its contents. We kept a small stock of food here, just for instances like this. There was also a bottle of bourbon hidden in the back of the cabinet he was currently rifling through.

"Got it." He murmured, pulling the bottle from behind a box of pancake mix. He set it down on the counter and closed the cabinet doors.

"Hate spending time with me that much?" I teased while sliding up to sit on the counter, picking up the bottle. It was still sealed.

Daryl scoffed, "Nah," He blew a raspberry. "Just ain't goin' nowhere for awhile 's all." He shrugged. "Walkers should be pretty scarce with the storm coming."

He was right. Thunderstorms seemed to make walkers confused and huddle together rather than roam and herd as usual. "A'right." I pushed off the counter. "Let's drink." I handed him the bottle. "I'm going to change into one of those new shirts first." I winked, shuffling over to my pack, pulled out a new black tank top and turned away from him.

I'd found a new bra last week, the tags were still on the damn thing in some lady's drawer whose house we were raiding. I swiped it and kept it for myself since it was actually my size. I hadn't had a new one in almost a year. My bust didn't exactly warrant the no-bra trend most of our women adopted post apocalypse. I found myself nervous, even though Daryl and I shared living space back at the prison and changed in the same room all the time. My cheeks burned as I felt him watching me, I think he wanted to make sure I wasn't stroking out with the way I'd hesitated to just change my shirt. Before I lost my nerve I whipped off my top and pulled the new one on, barely giving him a glimpse of the black lace I wore underneath.

I tossed the old top into the fire when I returned to the living area side of the room. "Good riddance." I chuckled, toed off my boots and settled on the couch beside Daryl. He cracked the bottle and took a swig. "What're we drinking to?" I asked, accepting the bottle. I cocked an eyebrow at his silence.

"To, uh," He hesitated, "having each other's back." His voice was deep, rough, and soft all at the same time. It made my toes curl.

"Hmmm." I nodded, taking a swing at his suggestion. "Here, here!" I exclaimed softly with mock excitement. He smirked, taking the bottle back.

I stared into the fire as we continued to pass the bottle back and forth. "You shoulda heard Tina last night at the fire." I said suddenly. My mind had wandered to the topic of conversation last night; Daryl Dixon. Some of the women were jealous I was going on a run with him, all by myself. Carol had thankfully defended me, but it was still hard to listen to. He grunted, taking a pull from the bottle. "She has got the hots for you, Ace." I giggled, taking the bottle. "Gushing about those strong, cut arms and steely blue eyes a' yours."

"Hmmm." Daryl grunted, watching me, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.

I swallowed. "What are you thinking?" I asked before I could help myself.

He regarded me carefully, "Who's Tina?" He scoffed, taking the bottle back.

"Oh, c'mon!" I exclaimed, how could he not know who she was?! She always put herself in his path at meals, made sure to touch him in some way. Drove me nuts. "Pretty, slim, blonde, all over you at meals…" Daryl just shrugged, taking a swig. "Wow, you really are oblivious, aren't you?" I squinted, playfully bumping shoulders with him.

"So are you." He murmured so low I almost didn't hear it.

"What?" I scoffed, "One more time, Ace." I exclaimed, my hand cupping my ear.

Daryl shook his head and rolled his eyes, letting out a breath. I raised my brows. He grit his teeth. "Rick." He spat.

Suddenly I felt very sober. Rick? What the hell was he talking about? "Rick?" I repeated back to him like an idiot. I had no idea what he was getting at.

"Don't play dumb, Red." Daryl sighed, eyes closing as his head tipped back to rest on the couch.

"I'm serious," I insisted. "What does Rick have to do with women fawning over you-" Suddenly it dawned on me. Daryl looked at my relationship with Rick as something more than just friends. I took care of baby Judith when Beth was unavailable so Rick could focus on farming and raising Carl. The more I thought about it, Daryl did find Rick and I in some pretty compromising situations as of late. For example, a few nights ago, after our watch shift, I got pulled into getting baby Judith back to sleep after she'd awoken. Rick was getting pretty desperate. He didn't want to get Beth since she'd just gone to sleep, so I stepped in to help.

After Judith was finally asleep, Rick accompanied me back up to the guardpost to make sure I didn't topple down the stairs since I'd been awake for over 24 hours. He'd said goodnight and leaned down, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Daryl must have seen that. Of course he had, the man was always on high alert, definitely didn't miss much. I guess he'd drawn the conclusion that I'd just come from Rick's bed. I took a deep breath, "I help with baby Judith, Daryl." I insisted as seriously as I could with the alcohol pumping through my veins. "That's all."

"Hmmm." He scoffed. "Seem pretty cozy ta me." He growled before taking a long pull from the bottle.

"You're not jealous, are ya Ace?" I teased, "That why you brought me out here, alone?"

Sanctuary

"There it is," Negan smirked. "I knew Rick played into this one way or another. Looked too upset when I whisked you away." His eyes danced with amusement.

I bit my lip. Rick and I were close, more l like siblings than lovers. He'd kissed me once, but we'd both laughed it off, vowing to never tell another soul. I intended to keep that vow. "Rick's just over protective of all of us. He's the leader, so he feels responsible." I shrugged, shifting in my seat. "He's like an older brother to me."

"Really?" Negan scoffed, eyebrows raised. "Okay," He thought for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "I guess I can see that."

"Good." I confirmed. "I guess I can handle another glass if you want to hear the conclusion of our run."

Negan smirked. "Sure, sweet cheeks." He drawled. He stood up and grabbed another bottle, twisting it open. He took my glass and refilled it. "Please," He handed it back to me and settled back down on the couch, "do continue."

Dearest Readers,

I'm slightly frustrated with this chapter. It definitely had a mind of its own. I'm itching it bring this story forward into more 'present' events. It's hard being patient, but I think it will be worth it to establish Roz as a character in this world.

Thank you for your continued support!

xoxo

Lumora The White