A Kiss For A Drink
Beth sat alone at the small table for two by the window, sipping sweet tea and watching time tick by. She squirmed uncomfortably in her new red dress, the silky fabric riding up to mid-thigh when she was sitting. Her light black cardigan only reached her lower back, and its three-quarter sleeves weren't enough to keep out the February chill. And the blood red high heels on her feet felt ill-fitted, a stark contrast to her usual choice of boots or sneakers. She constantly fiddled with the small heart pendant hanging around her neck from a thin golden chain, or pushed her long blonde hair off her shoulders, consciously avoiding catching her fingers in the modest gold hoops that hung from her earlobes.
She wasn't used to wearing hoops in her ears, or anything more than tiny diamonds, and she'd already accidentally pulled them from her earlobes twice while pushing her hair off her neck.
The establishment—a small bar and grill—was exceptionally busy for Valentine's Day, full of couples having lunch and drinks together, servers and bartenders racing around to fill the numerous orders, groups of people entering and leaving every few minutes amidst loud conversations and even louder laughter. She'd triple-checked the address to assure she was in the right place and had even shown up thirty minutes early in an effort to calm her nerves before her date was supposed to show up. But now it was an hour past their agreed time and her anxiety was reaching its peak.
She gave it another forty-five minutes and sent two more unanswered text messages before giving up. Her heart was in her stomach when she finally asked the waitress for her check, and from the older woman's face, Beth could tell she was pitying her. Another meek girl left waiting alone at a table, stood up on a date—the waitresses probably saw it all the time on this particular day of the year. Still, that didn't make Beth feel any better.
Once she'd paid and left a nice tip, she stood up and moved to head toward the door before thinking twice. She paused and glanced back toward the bar, all the stools filled with patrons who were chatting and drinking merrily. She thought of the little plastic ID snugly secured inside her wallet and hesitated. Then she watched as a couple close to her age passed by, arm-in-arm and completely entranced with one another as they headed toward the door and slipped outside. Jealousy curdled in her stomach and she frowned, and before she could stop herself, she was marching across the polished wooden floors to stand at the end of the bar and wave down a bartender.
With a cold cocktail in her hand and a tiny straw between her puckered lips, she leisurely sipped the fruity drink and gazed around the establishment. She wasn't expecting to see anyone she knew, it was more out of curiosity than anything. In fact, she was already silently debating whether she should head for the bar down the street—the one she knew never asked for ID and always over-served its patrons. She was pretty sure that place wouldn't be so packed with annoyingly affectionate couples celebrating the national day of love. Then her eyes landed on a faintly familiar head of shaggy dark hair, and when he raised his eyes and met her curious gaze from across the room, the recognition simultaneously clicked for both of them.
Before she could think better of it, she was walking straight for his little table in the corner, a smile of relief playing on her lips while her heels clicked against the floor. He was watching her with a creased brow, sitting up straighter when she approached. She stopped behind the chair that sat across from him, her hands cupped around the cold glass in her hands.
"You're Daryl, right?" She asked, still smiling. It felt like a relieving coincidence to have run into someone she knew here.
His azure eyes gave her a brief once-over. He nodded and responded in his low, gruff voice, "An' you're Maggie's little sister."
She reflexively rolled her eyes. "My name's Beth." She was used to it by now, having been living in Maggie's shadow for all her life, but that didn't make it any less annoying.
He grunted and jerked his chin up in the general direction of the drink she had clutched in her hands, his brow creasing again. "What're you doin' here? You even old enough?"
She immediately frowned and glanced back over her shoulder, then lowered her voice and responded, "Say that a little louder, why don'tcha?" She shook her head and stepped around to gingerly sit down in the empty chair across from him. Before he could say anything else, she continued, "My ID says I'm twenty-two. And I just got stood up fer a date, so I think I earned this drink." To accentuate her point, she wrapped her lips around the straw and took a long gulp.
He leaned forward in his seat and rested both elbows on the table, one large hand wrapping around the beer bottle that sat before him. He took a quick swig, eyes set on her the whole time, then furrowed his brow with confusion and muttered, "Stood up, huh? What dumbass stood you up?"
She couldn't help but blush, the heat rising up into her cheeks before she could stop it. She was suddenly all too aware of the low cut on her red V-neck dress and the push-up bra she'd chosen to wear underneath, and a bit self-conscious. Her eyes flicked down toward the drink in front of her as she took another long sip and let the fruity sweetness linger on her tongue. Then she shrugged and straightened her back, fingers curling absent-mindedly around the condensated glass, eyes drifting back up to lock onto his.
"What're you doin' here?" She asked, quickly changing the subject. "Is this yer Valentine's Day ritual or something?" She nodded toward the near-empty beer in his hand with a playful smirk.
He grunted out a sound that resembled a half-chuckle and shook his head, taking another swig of beer before replying, "Nah. I don't even like comin' out on this day 'cause of all the crowds, but my buddy thought it'd be fun ta play matchmaker. Now I'm all dressed up an' lookin' like a lonely asshole 'cause 'something came up.'"
Beth hadn't really taken in his appearance until now—she'd seen him only a couple of times before, but he'd looked vastly different on those occasions, always a little dirty and a little sunburnt and a little rough for the wear. She suddenly took notice of the obviously new button-up plaid shirt he was donning with the sleeves half-rolled up, the clean black jeans—perfectly tailored—and the cleaner-than-usual dark boots, even the freshly-washed and trimmed hair and goatee. And at the same moment, her heart ached for him. He'd put the effort in, only to be left sitting alone at a table in a bar, waiting for someone that wasn't going to show up. And he was clearly uncomfortable: his back was stiff and his face was solemn, shoulders squared and tensed while his eyes searched around the room every few seconds.
"Guess we both got stood up," she said. He drained the last of his beer and set the empty bottle down at the edge of the table, lips pursing solemnly. She offered an optimistic smile and sat up a little straighter. "Stay an' have another drink with me."
His eyes flicked up to meet hers, narrowing momentarily like he wasn't sure if she was serious or not. When her smile didn't falter, he lifted his chin and mumbled, "Don't think Deputy Greene'd be too happy ta know her baby sister was drinkin' with a Dixon."
Beth rolled her eyes again and stifled a laugh. She shook her head and took another sip from the straw before she quirked an eyebrow and said, "Well I'm almost twenty, so it's not like she can ground me or anything."
He smirked, giving her another once-over but in a new light. He quipped back, "Nah, but she can put me in cuffs. An' I'm sure ol' Rick wouldn't be too quick ta stop her."
Beth's smile didn't fade. She brushed her hair back away from her neck with one hand and happily informed him, "From the way I hear them all talk, it's yer brother that's the troublemaker. Maggie's never had anything bad ta say about you—except that sometimes you stink when you come in ta bail Merle outta the drunk tank."
Daryl actually chuckled at that and his smirk briefly grew into a crooked half-smile. She thought he might've even been blushing. "She never seems too impressed with me, but that's alrigh'. I sure as hell ain't no Merle. Rick likes me well enough, keeps me on his good side. 'S all that matters ta me."
She smiled wider and raised her eyebrows. "So it can be our little secret. I won't tell Maggie if you don't."
He laughed softly and shrugged, pausing and glancing past her towards the bar for a second. Then his gaze settled back on hers and he gave a clipped nod. "Guess I ain't got no other plans." He waved down a server while Beth grinned, and just before the waitress arrived at their table, he added, "Gotta warn ya, I'm pretty broke, though. Can't be buyin' yer drinks for ya or rackin' up a huge tab."
She leaned back in her chair and told him, "Didn't expect you to. I'm broke, too, so I won't keep you long, Mr. Dixon."
A glimmer of intrigue shone in his dark blue eyes just as the server approached, and he quickly turned his attention over and ordered another beer.
A few seconds of silence passed between them after the waitress had walked away. Beth sipped her drink, nearing the bottom and beginning to wonder if this had been a bad idea—to sit down and have a drink with a man she'd only met a couple of times before. But just as he'd said: it wasn't like she had anything better to do. And something about Daryl intrigued her. She kind of wanted to get to know him. Especially if he was being honest when he said he was no Merle Dixon.
At first glance, Daryl was standoffish and quiet, maybe even quick to anger. Beth had been introduced to him once or twice in the last couple of years because Maggie had decided to join the Sheriff's Department once she'd turned 21, and that had inevitably brought a whole new circle of people into the Greene Family's lives. Maggie's boss, Rick Grimes, was a kind and respectable man, and he sometimes had dinner with the Greene's, where he would bring along his wife and young son. Hershel had taken a liking to them immediately. At one point or another, Daryl had ridden out to the farm with Rick looking for Maggie. But Beth and Daryl had never given each other so much as a second glance, and Maggie had never spoken of him in a negative light; Beth had met dozens of backwoods rednecks and Senoia and Atlanta natives throughout her life, and the Dixon Brothers had presumably been just two more in a long list. Nonetheless, spotting Daryl's familiar face in a crowded bar on this particular occasion had felt more like a happily surprising coincidence than anything.
"So what kinda idiot would stand you up on today, of all days?" Daryl asked once the server had brought his drink and walked away. Beth looked up from her own drink and he quickly averted his gaze down to the fresh beer in his hand, lifting it to his lips and taking a long swig.
She shrugged, trying not to blush again. "This guy named Zach. We went on a date last week an' we were talkin'. We made plans for today, but he stopped answering my messages this morning. And then he never showed up. So I guess that tells me all I need to know." She cleared her throat and took another small sip of her near-empty drink, sitting up straighter in her chair and focusing her attention on Daryl. "What about you?" She tried to divert the conversation away from herself, finding the thought of Zach to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. "I know you said yer friend was playing matchmaker, but—did you meet her? Did she seem nice? Or 's it like a blind date kinda thing?"
He nodded, fingers fiddling with the sides of his condensated bottle. "Yeah, met 'er once or twice. Seemed alright. 'Least 'til she texted me after I was already waitin' over an hour for her. Couldn't even call, or be honest an' tell me she jus' didn't wanna come. Had ta text and make some piss poor excuse." His voice lowered with resentment, almost grumbling inwardly. "Didn't think she'd make me look like an asshole or else I wouldn't've agreed ta some dumb shit like this. Goddamn date on Valentine's Day—I never woulda done somethin' so cheesy."
Beth chuckled awkwardly and tried to offer optimism. "Live and learn, right? Guess you never really know 'til ya try."
He grunted and she got the impression that he was agreeing. She watched him brush a shagging strand of dark hair away from his downcast eyes.
Then an impulsive urge overtook her and she decisively set her empty glass down on the edge of the table. She squared her shoulders and sat up straight. Her heart was beginning to break for the both of them at the realization of their shared sad situation, but she wasn't quite willing to sit and wallow in misery, nor to watch her new friend brood quietly over his beer. She'd already decided that she liked this particular Dixon brother, and she thought she might like to get to know him better. Or at least try.
"D'you like tequila?" She asked, beaming with excitement.
He studied her for a second and answered tentatively, "Yeah, every once in a while."
Beth grinned. "Let's get a shot." Before he could disagree, she waved down a nearby server and asked for two shots of their cheapest tequila with lime and salt.
"I ain't really got the money—"
"It's on me," she cut him off. "I brought some of my 'emergency' cash, an' I think this day has been more than enough of an emergency fer both of us."
He sat back, seemingly rendered speechless at first. Then he shrugged and took another sip of beer. "Alrigh'. Why not."
While they waited for their shots, Daryl sipped his beer and Beth let a slew of questions nervously escape her lips. "So what d'you do for a living? Have you lived here your whole life? Or did you move here from somewhere else? And where's yer brother today?"
He wasn't terribly taken aback by these questions, though he definitely seemed unprepared and unaccustomed to a new acquaintance inquiring so much about his personal life. He was almost awkward as he replied, eyes set on the bottle before him while he fiddled with it between his hands.
"Little bit a everything, I guess. Been workin' a construction job downtown the last couple months. Never been outside Georgia, really. It's always been me an' Merle an' our pa, long as I can remember. 'Til that old shithead died a couple years back. Now it's jus' the two of us livin' out in the trailer he left us. Prob'ly twenty minute's drive from yer daddy's farm," he explained meekly. He paused and grunted in disapproval. "Merle's locked up fer a few months. Possession. Dumbass got arrested with some dope in his pocket. Didn't yer sister tell ya 'bout that one? Or Sheriff Grimes?"
Beth listened intently, shaking her head when Daryl finally looked up from his beer bottle and met her eyes. "No," she answered honestly. "She doesn't really talk about work. At least not to me. I'm sorry ta hear that… all of it. Sounds pretty crappy."
He grunted with amusement and took a resentful swig of beer, then quickly shrugged it off. "Ain't no matter. Not really surprised Deputy Greene don't bring 'er work home with her. Don't think I'd want to either, if I was her."
Beth smirked and shrugged, her gaze still set on Daryl even though his eyes kept flicking away from hers. "I don't think I'd wanna do any of what she does, if I was her. Period. Bein' a cop sounds like an awful lotta work with no reward."
At that, Daryl laughed, and she couldn't help but join him. The butterflies came to life in her stomach and she fought back the flush of pink that wanted to fill her cheeks. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him, even as he continued to avoid making eye contact. She got the impression that he was much more self-conscious—maybe even nervous—than he let on. And that only proved to make her more sympathetic to his current plight. She was self-conscious, too, in all honesty. And very nervous, though she wasn't quite sure why. But the alcoholic drink she'd downed was already helping to ease that.
"An' what about you?" He spoke over the loud hum of conversation and laughter that surrounded them in the small establishment, his dark blue eyes finally flitting up to meet hers from across the table and through strands of shagging hair. "Aren't you supposed ta be at college or somethin'? Thought I heard yer sister mention somethin' about you goin' ta some fancy university last year. What're you doin' chasin' boys around this shithole?"
At that, she couldn't help but blush. She quickly looked down at her hands on the table, fiddling with the thin gold bracelet around her wrist. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach and she was silently willing the server to return soon with their shots. Lord knew she could use another dose of liquid courage. "I'm not 'chasing boys.' I didn't get enough money in scholarships an' we can't really afford for me to go ta college like I was supposed to. So it's a little delayed. But I'm tryin' ta make the best of it." She lifted her gaze and flashed a somewhat forced smile in his direction, hoping the optimism was obvious in her tone and not as feigned as it felt. "It was Duke University. It's a really good school. But other-worldly expensive. A retired veterinarian with a dead wife an' three kids to support could never afford that tuition."
Daryl's face fell and his eyes darted back down to the beer bottle between his hands. "Shit—sorry," he mumbled bashfully, then cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He glanced up as if to check for the server arriving, but apparently spotted nothing because his eyes drifted back to Beth. "Didn't mean ta bring all that up. I mean—I knew about yer mom. But I know it ain't easy. None of it. But that don't make it any less shitty."
She straightened her back, leaning back in her chair with her hands folded atop the table. An easy smile played on her lips and she shrugged nonchalantly. "It's okay," she assured him, pointedly adding a cheerful tone to her voice. "That's life. Just like gettin' stood up on Valentine's Day... And that's why God made tequila—'least that's what Maggie says. But don't tell her I told you that."
She grinned and Daryl responded with a crooked smile of his own, which made her heart beat a little faster. She did her best to ignore the speed of her pulse. She couldn't even be sure if it was Daryl or the crowds of friendly couples surrounding them that was making her anxious. All she knew was that the intense depth of his blue eyes and his low vibration of a voice wasn't helping to still her nerves or silence her self-consciousness. Once again, she willed the server to return with haste… and two shots of strong tequila.
This time, her silent prayer was answered. Before Daryl could lower his beer and clear his mouth of the long drink he'd taken—an unspoken question obviously lingering behind his lips—a waitress appeared with a small tray in her hands. He seemed to forget whatever he'd been meaning to ask at the sight of a tequila shot set before him, and Beth quickly forgot about Zach and all the disappointment of the day at the same sight.
The server disappeared, leaving behind the shots of tequila with their tiny glasses rimmed in salt, as well as two small wedges of lime. Beth met Daryl's eyes and grinned with excitement. Before she could affirm that his cheeks were turning pink, he was picking up his tiny shot glass and lifting it while pinching a lime wedge between the forefingers of his other hand, dark hair shagging over his eyes. She chuckled lightly before picking up her own shot and holding it above the table, mimicking him by pinching the other lime wedge between the forefingers of her free hand and preparing it for consumption.
A smirk formed on his lips and she figured it was the best she was going to get out of him, but it felt good nonetheless.
She happily declared, "Here's to us—and screw those dumbasses that stood us up today."
His smirk grew into an actual smile and he chuckled. "Hear, hear!"
Then they clinked their tiny shot glasses together in cheers and tossed back shots of tequila immediately followed by licks of salt and squirts of lime juice. The butterflies that had come to life in her stomach were quickly drowned in tequila.
A few seconds later, Beth was still making a sour face and reeling from the burning in her throat while Daryl was chuckling and chasing it all with a long swig of beer.
"Good stuff," she remarked, her voice noticeably strained.
"Yup, pretty good." He laughed softly and took another swig of beer. "You alrigh' there?"
She broke her composure and coughed but quickly covered it up by giggling at her own embarrassment and shaking her head. She was still grinning as she joked, "No, actually, I think maybe I should've ordered a water or somethin' with that shot."
He laughed again and held out his beer for her to take. "Here—have a sip. I think they gave us the top shelf liquor. Musta known we got stood up an' took pity on us."
She laughed at that but it caused her to cough again, so she gratefully accepted his beer and took a small sip, just enough to clear her throat of the burn that the tequila had left. Then she handed it back and offered him a bashful smile.
"Thanks—I think yer prob'ly right," she agreed. "Guess that means we should take advantage and order a couple more before we leave, huh?"
He drained the last of the beer in one smooth motion before letting out a hah of amusement.
As he set the empty bottle down near the edge of the table, Beth smiled back and nervously brushed her hair off her shoulder with one hand.
However, in the process, the tip of her finger caught one of the hoops hanging from her earlobes and she could feel it pop open and slip out of her ear before tumbling down her shoulder and disappearing. Her face immediately fell and she looked down toward the floor, trying to discreetly search for her lost earring.
He noticed and asked, "'S a matter? Lose somethin'?"
She frowned, scooting her chair back a bit as her eyes darted all over the floor. "Yeah," she mumbled. "My earring."
Without hesitation, he scooted his chair back as well and began searching the floor. A second later, he pointed down and said, "There it is—under the table. Here, I'll get it."
He was getting out of his chair and leaning down before Beth had a chance to move, ducking his head beneath the table and retrieving the earring as he knelt on the floor. There was a grunt, then he was leaning back up and holding out the piece of jewelry for her to take, the small golden hoop pinched tightly between his thumb and index finger.
Maybe it was the alcohol swimming through her head and putting her in a goofy mood—Beth wasn't sure. But all she could think about as Daryl knelt before her was how he looked like he could've been proposing.
A few of the patrons seated nearby had turned to look and she could feel their eyes on her, as though they were thinking that they might be witnessing a public proposal on Valentine's Day. The gold hoop even kind of resembled a ring. It made her grin and nearly laugh aloud.
But instead of laughing, she let out an exaggerated gasp and put her hands to her face, feigning gleeful surprise.
Why not give them a show? Plus, it would undoubtedly be hilarious to see Daryl's reaction.
"Oh my god, Daryl!" She squealed, loudly enough that all the surrounding customers overheard. A dozen more heads turned to look in Beth and Daryl's direction.
Daryl's brow furrowed and he remained kneeling in front of her with the earring held out, an expression of confusion on his face. "What?"
Beth's grin grew a little wider and she started nodding eagerly, fully aware of all the eyes that were on her and the sudden silence that had fallen over the bar.
"Yes, of course I'll marry you!" She exclaimed, reaching out and snatching the small gold hoop from between his fingers as he blinked. She could see the comprehension slowly crossing his face. His cheeks began to turn bright red.
A round of applause erupted around them. Nearly every person in the small establishment had witnessed the "proposal" and were cheering and clapping, some of them with tears in their eyes. Beth was struggling to hold back laughter. Daryl's face had grown beet red at this point, though a smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth.
She couldn't hear him, but she could see him muttering, "Goddammit, girl…"
She winked coyly and giggled. She pretended to slip the hoop onto her ring finger—though she was actually switching a ring from her right hand over to her left hand.
"Kiss!" Someone called out. Which immediately started a small chant of, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Now it was Beth's turn to blush. The cheers didn't let up and her eyes widened at Daryl. His smirk disappeared and he gave her a very stern look that said, These people can't be serious.
She blamed the shot of tequila for her next move: she leaned forward and placed her hands on Daryl's shoulders, urging him up closer to her. And when their faces were inches apart, she whispered, "Might as well give the people what they want."
He seemed frozen. He simply blinked and asked, "What—"
But before he could say anything else, Beth let out a nervous giggle and quickly closed the distance between them. She pressed her lips to his mouth and another loud cheer erupted around them. More applause, more tears. He didn't pull away, though she felt him tense up and remain frozen in place. Her hands tightened on his shoulders and the next thing she knew, he was grabbing her arms and pulling her up to stand from her seat, standing with her as their kiss slowly broke. And he definitely wasn't pulling away.
She told herself it was the tequila when she opened her eyes and found herself breathless, staring up at him while the whole bar applauded their "engagement." He raised his eyebrows and quietly asked her, "What the hell were you thinkin', Greene?"
She laughed. "That it'd be funny."
"Shots for the lovebirds!" Someone called out, and another cheer rang through the bar.
Daryl smirked and glanced back to see a server quickly approaching with a tray holding two shots. Beth stepped back for a moment as they reached out and took the tiny glasses, flashing her ring finger for the crowd to admire.
"On the house," the server told them happily. "Congratulations!"
Daryl raised his eyebrows and shared a look with Beth. She grinned back and shrugged, then held her shot glass up in cheers. He chuckled and clinked his glass with hers. She could see his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Here's ta free booze," he said before throwing back his shot of whiskey.
As the alcohol slid down her throat, Beth thought, Zach who?
Moments later, Beth and Daryl were slipping out of the small bar and grill, all smiles and tipsy laughter. Their faces were glowing from the shots they'd just taken and Beth still had her ring slipped on as though it were an engagement ring. But they hurried to walk away from the establishment—as a newly-engaged couple should.
They paused in front of the building next door and Beth slipped her earring back in, making sure the clasp was tightly secured. When she turned and met Daryl's gaze, the memory of their sudden kiss rushed back to her and she felt her face going red. She let out an awkward laugh.
"What?" She asked, grinning.
He shrugged. "Just… a li'l surprised." He was smirking and she could've swore the tips of his ears had gone pink. "Yer a ballsy one, ain'tcha?"
She laughed. "Not usually. I might be a little buzzed, but—hey, it got us free drinks, didn't it?"
He chuckled, shaking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Woulda never crossed my mind ta do somethin' like that fer a couple free shots."
She knew he was probably no more than buzzed, but she was already tipsy. So she didn't even hesitate to playfully slap his arm and say, "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."
He blinked and cleared his throat, glancing away bashfully.
But Beth was practically giddy with excitement, and as she turned and looked towards the sidewalk ahead and all the businesses that lined the next several blocks, she got another brilliant idea.
"No reason ta stop now." She grinned, and he looked at her quizzically. "Let's see how many more free drinks we can get. It'll be fun!"
He chuckled. "You serious?"
She nodded eagerly and reached out to grab his wrist. He let her pull his hand from his pocket and grasp it in her own. She tugged him down the sidewalk and pointed towards a bar up ahead.
"C'mon," she insisted. "Don'tcha wanna see if we can get drunk on somebody else's dime today?"
Daryl hesitated for no more than a second, then he shrugged, an expression of intrigue on his face. "Well… guess the best kinda booze is free booze."
Beth laughed. "That's the spirit!"
They entered the small bar together and found an establishment about the same size as the one they'd just left, though there were nearly twice as many people packed inside. Most of them were couples, packed around circular tables and crowded against the bar set in the center of the room.
Beth led Daryl over to a table that had recently been abandoned, two half-empty drinks sitting atop the circular surface. They took a seat and gazed around for a moment, observing the clusters of patrons meandering about and the high-strung employees darting every which way.
"Well," Beth nudged Daryl's arm across the table, a mischievous smirk on her face.
"Well, what?" He grunted, though he was smirking back.
"'S now or never," she said. She tilted her chin up and batted her eyelashes in his direction.
She'd already slipped the ring off, clutching it in her palm. She handed it over to him discreetly and he took it with a chuckle.
"Better be the top shelf shit," he joked, slowly rising from his seat and glancing around one last time.
Beth giggled. "Does it really matter? Free is free."
The customers and employees were so preoccupied that no one noticed when Daryl knelt down in front of Beth with the ring held out. She could feel the heat filling her cheeks, waiting for someone to turn their head and catch the scene. But when they didn't, she took it upon herself to draw their attention.
"Oh my god, babe!" She squealed out loudly. "Are you serious right now?!"
She could see Daryl sighing inwardly, his ears turning bright pink, but he offered her a sly smirk as she took the ring. A silence suddenly fell over the crowd, so she took her opportunity to exclaim, "Yes! Of course I'll marry you!"
There was a collective gasp, quickly followed by a spattering of applause. And then, as if on cue, someone called out, "Kiss!"
Beth rose to her feet with her hands in Daryl's and the ring on her finger, grinning. His whole face had gone red at this point, but unlike last time, she did not hesitate to lean up on tiptoes and plant a kiss on his lips.
Also unlike last time, the kiss felt like it lasted a little bit longer.
Or maybe she was just tipsy…?
When they finally broke apart and everyone around them began to applaud, she realized his hand had found its way to her lower back. And somehow, that felt far more intimate than the "fake" kiss they'd just shared.
Before they'd fully stepped apart, an older man approached them with a gleeful grin and asked, "What're y'all drinkin'? Get a round on me!"
Beth started, "Oh, that's so nice, but we couldn't possibly—"
"Hey, thanks, man," Daryl interrupted, reaching out to shake the stranger's hand heartily. "We'll have whatever y'all are havin'."
The man laughed and turned his head to holler out, "Hey! Louise! Get these lovebirds a couple shots! And a round of beers! Put it on my tab!"
The applause died down and the man gave Daryl a parting pat on the back, offering Beth a polite, "Congratulations, young lady." Then he was wandering back to his own table while Beth and Daryl returned to their seats. A moment later, a waitress appeared with two shots and two beers on a serving tray. She set them down and offered a "congratulations" before racing off to tend her other customers.
Beth and Daryl raised their shot glasses, clinking them together in cheers.
Right before they tipped the shots back, Daryl muttered, "Can't believe that worked twice."
As soon as the liquor—whiskey this time—slid down Beth's throat, burning all the way down, she grimaced and chased it with a swig of beer. Then she grinned at Daryl across the table and said, "Wanna see how many more times it'll work?"
Daryl quirked an eyebrow, taking a swig of beer before asking, "That a challenge, Greene?"
She couldn't help but giggle. "D'you want it to be, Dixon?"
But before he could respond, she heard a familiar voice calling out from across the bar.
"Beth? Is that you?"
Her eyes went wide and she froze. When she turned her head to seek out the source of the voice, she spotted none other than her ex-boyfriend, Jimmy.
Jimmy, who would know her anywhere. Jimmy, who knew her family very well. Jimmy, who would be more than eager to run to her dad and sister and tell them he'd not only seen her drinking underage at a bar, but seen her being proposed to at a bar by Daryl Dixon.
"Shit!" She cursed, ducking her head and raising a hand to cover her face.
"What?" Daryl asked. He began looking around, searching for who she'd seen.
"Stop—stop! Hide your face!"
"Why?"
Jimmy was not only calling out again, but he was peering over the crowd and standing, preparing to make his way over to them. "Beth, is that—"
"Oh my god," Beth hissed, "we gotta go, Daryl."
"Huh?" Daryl asked, clueless. "Why? Who's that?"
She didn't take the time to offer an explanation. Instead, she leapt to her feet, grabbing her beer with one hand and Daryl's hand with the other, and repeated, "We gotta go!"
Thankfully, he didn't object. He grabbed his beer at the last second and allowed her to yank him all the way out the door, even as Jimmy was calling out, "Beth, it's me! Hey, Beth!"
The door fell shut behind them, silencing the sounds of the raucous crowd inside, and Beth was walking as quickly as her heels would allow her as she dragged Daryl along by his hand.
"What the hell was that?!" He demanded, but she didn't stop until they were over half a block away.
Beth glanced back to assure Jimmy hadn't followed them, her heart racing. She took a swig of her beer and burst into tipsy, nervous laughter.
"Oh my god! We almost got caught!" She laughed.
"By who?" Daryl asked, gazing down at her quizzically.
Her laughter faded and she heaved a sigh. "My ex-boyfriend."
Daryl snorted. "Shit. Close call."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Yeah, it's a close call for you, too. He would've told Maggie you were with me—proposing."
Daryl's face fell. "Oh. Yeah."
Something about the look on his face made her overly conscious of everything she was doing, and she glanced down to realize her hand was still grasping his. She quickly let it go and wrapped her hand around her beer instead.
"Sorry," she apologized meekly, the liquid courage rapidly fading away. "Maybe this wasn't such a fun idea, after all."
But he was looking past her, down the sidewalk behind her. "Hol' on—ya see that?"
She turned to gaze in the direction he was looking. "What?"
Then his hand was reaching out to grasp hers again, peeling it away from her beer, and he was leading her down the sidewalk. And she finally saw it: a small flower stand full of fresh bouquets set up outside of a vacant business. And he was leading her right to it.
"What're you doing?" She asked, her mouth curling into a smile once again.
He paused and turned back, his other hand still clutching his beer, and said, "Done proposed t'ya twice now, but ain't even got ya any flowers."
Her heart leapt.
Wait—leapt? Did it, really? Or was that the alcohol again?
The next thing she knew, he was approaching the employee at the stand and reaching for his wallet, pointing to a bouquet and handing over a small wad of cash. Then he turned to Beth and held the bouquet out. It was a mixture of sunflowers and red roses, all wrapped together with pink and white ribbon.
She felt her cheeks heating up again. Knew her face had to be the same shade of red as the roses. And for some reason, she was finding it difficult to look Daryl in the eye as he held the flowers out for her to take.
Regardless, she took them, grinning from ear to ear.
He chuckled. "There ya go. Beer in one hand, flowers in the other. 'Cept I actually paid fer the flowers."
She laughed. "Daryl, you didn't have to—"
"C'mon," he said, jerking his head in the direction forward. He took a swig of beer before pointing towards another bar and grill a block away. "Let's finish these beers an' hit up that place next. Looks swanky, bet they got some real expensive liquor."
Holding the flowers close to her chest and still grinning, Beth gazed up at him in disbelief. "Seriously? You wanna do it again?"
He simply scoffed, but it was a playful kind of sound accompanied by a smirk. "Y'said we should get drunk on somebody else's dime today."
"Yeah," she agreed. "So?"
"So… I ain't drunk yet."
Then he held out his hand.
An offering. An invitation.
And with a flutter in her stomach and a grin that had nothing to do with the alcohol, Beth took it, fully prepared to say yes to Daryl several times over before the day was done.
the end.