Finally - Daryl's POV. I wasn't planning on writing his POV initially for any of this story but I think it's now necessary for the story. Thank you to those who are enjoying and supporting this story. This one is already longer than I thought it would be and I am really enjoying writing it.
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Part Five.
He still has absolutely no idea why he invited her to come hunting with him. He never invites anyone to come with him. It's his chance to be completely alone – though he supposes he is usually alone anyway. And that's how he prefers it. Too many people usually makes him uncomfortable and pissed off and as soon as they are around, he is already looking for his exit strategy. The woods are his sanctuary and have been ever since he was a little kid – at times feeling like he is the only one left in the world or in a different one entirely – so what the hell has possessed him to invite someone into that sacred world with him?
He tells himself that he doesn't care that she's been looking so damn sad lately.
He tells himself that there is no reason for him to care. Why the hell should he care? She's just the girl who lives in the same motel as him and brings him his dinner most nights. He doesn't know anything about her other than she plays the guitar and can write songs… and she's always trying to get Oscar to smile and Judith Grimes loves her, everyone in Evergreen seems to love her, and Carl Grimes has a crush on her… and she's the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
He shakes his head at that last thought.
…
He tells her he'll be by her room early and when he knocks on her door just a little after five o'clock on Saturday morning, he doesn't expect her to be ready.
Instead, she swings open the door just a moment later and she's already dressed and there's a toothbrush in her mouth. He gives her a quick look over and she surprises him twice in less than a minute because she's dressed pretty appropriately for a weekend hunting in the woods. Boots and jeans and a tee-shirt. Her hair is still a bit damp from her shower and she has it pulled up into her usual ponytail with a braid.
"Need somethin' warmer to wear over that," he tells her, standing just in the doorway, not entering the room.
She nods and disappears into the bathroom. He hears water running and he looks at the pack she has on her already made bed. He's like that, too. As soon as he's out of bed, he turns around and makes it. Doesn't matter if the motel has Michonne cleaning the rooms. He likes things neat and he doesn't like anyone touching his stuff. He supposes it has to do with living in such shitty places his entire life that now that he's on his own, he can be a bit of a clean freak.
Beth comes out of the bathroom again and goes to the closet where she actually has clothes hanging. She pulls down a zipped hooded sweatshirt and holds it up.
He nods once and she slips it on, zipping it fully up.
"Do you have a tent?" She asks.
"Never sleep in one," he says and he expects her to protest but instead, she just nods.
She surprises him yet again when she doesn't throw a fit about that. She just keeps quiet and slings her pack onto her back. Without a word, he takes a step back and she steps from the room, turning around to close and lock the door.
When she looks at him again, she gives him a small, hesitant smile and it's still cold that morning enough for their breath to appear in front of them.
"Do you mind if we stop somewhere so I can get some coffee?" She asks. "I'm not really a morning person."
Daryl feels himself smirk at that. "Was beginnin' to wonder why you were bein' so damn quiet."
…
He can tell she's never been hunting before. She walks too damn loud.
After stopping at the diner where they drink coffee and eat slices of toast – his usual breakfast – they then head out. They don't drive anywhere. He just walks off into the nearby woods and she follows him. But she's dragging her feet instead of lifting them and she's rustling the leaves and snapping on branches and after a half hour, he turns around, giving her a frown and she halts in place, her eyes slightly wide.
"Shufflin' like a damn dead girl," he grumbles to her.
"I am?" She asks and he can tell she's a bit confused by the comment.
He nods and he has no idea why but he reaches over and taps her knee with his fingers. "Lift your feet. You don't gotta march or anythin' but just lift your feet when you walk. Don't make nearly as much noise that way."
She nods and looks at him and her cheeks are looking a little flushed. "Alright," she said softly.
He looks at her, too, and he still has no idea why he wanted her out here with him.
…
He can hear her gasp the first time he fires his crossbow, the bolt slicing through the air and landing in its intended target, the rabbit falling to the ground.
"You ever have rabbit?" He asks her as he hooks the dead animal to his belt.
She shakes her head. "My dad and brother used to go hunting all of the time but they never seemed to be any good at it. Never brought any of the meat home with them." She is watching him as he loads the crossbow again. "Where'd you learn to do this?" She then asks him.
He straightens up and shrugs, only giving her a glance before he starts walking again and she's walking beside him now, her steps now much quieter.
"Ol' man taught me when I was younger. Sometimes, really the only way for us to eat," he says though he can't believe he had just told her that. This whole weekend seems to be filled with nothing but things he doesn't understand.
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They stop at one of his usual spots for the night – so deep in the woods, no one seems to bother it. There is a fire pit he made a while back, surrounded by stones, and Beth watches him as he lights a fire with the wood she helped him collect.
"Wanna watch me do this?" He asks and expects her to say no and be grossed out that he would even suggest it.
But Beth nods and comes to sit beside him – too close in his opinion but he finds himself not inching away from her. She's warm and despite being in the woods all day, she smells like something sweet. Like dessert. That doesn't surprise him. Beth's the sort of girl who looks like cake, so damn sweet with a personality to match. She's even sweet to him even with him being a dick to her most of the time and he doesn't understand her because doesn't she get tired of being so damn nice to everyone?
She doesn't say a word or even flinches as he pulls out his knife and starts to skin the rabbit, pulling away the fur, working around bone and muscle, bloodying his fingers. She just watches him and the the only sound is the crackling of the fire.
And he allows himself to think that sitting there with her beside him, it's nice.
…
He roasts the rabbit over the fire and watches her as she takes her first small bite, feeling almost nervous, hoping that she likes it. And when she gives him a smile after swallowing, he finds himself smiling a little, too.
"I brought something…" she says once they've eaten all of the rabbit. "It's silly but I don't think you can go camping and not do this…"
He watches curiously as she reaches into her pack. He smirks when she pulls out a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers and a couple of chocolate bars. Without a word, he gets up and finds them two more sticks, bringing them back to the fire and sitting down beside her again. He wipes his knife on his pants and then sharpens the tips of the sticks into points. She smiles as she stabs a marshmallow with each and she hums as they roast them over the fire and make S'mores.
"Never had one of these before," he hears himself confess. Beth gasps and he looks at her shocked expression. He just shrugs and doesn't say anything else.
She's quiet for a moment. "After everything you've done today, I'm glad I'm able to do at least one thing for you," she then says with a faint smile.
Now he is the one to watch her closely and quietly and she teaches him how to construct the perfect S'more.
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He tells her to get some sleep but she smiles and shakes her head, sitting up against the trunk of a fallen tree behind them.
"It's too beautiful tonight. I just want to sit up and enjoy it for a little longer," she says. "I see why you like being out here. It's so quiet. I haven't even heard a plane fly overhead. A person could get used to the quiet like this."
He nods and doesn't say anything, leaning agains the tree beside her.
She hugs her knees to her chest and looks up at the stars in the blank ink sky through the trees. "My brother told me something so terrible once," she then laughs softly at the thought and Daryl looks at her, waiting. "He said that when you wish on a star, you're too late. That star is millions of miles away and its already dead. Just like your dreams."
He can't help but smirk and chuckle at that. "Kind of reminds me of Merle. Sayin' dick things like that."
She smiles and shrugs his shoulders. "It's all part of having an older brother." She's quiet and he feels her eyes on him. He doesn't look at her though and looks up at the stars instead. "Everyone seems to lump you and your brother together," she notes.
He shrugs at that. "My own fault. When Merle isn't in jail, I tend to follow after him. Don't do what he does but I just like to keep an eye on him, I guess."
He has no idea why he's talking about Merle with her. He doesn't talk about his brother or his family to anyone except to Rick but that's usually because Merle has gotten himself in trouble again and Daryl has to try and bail him out. But Beth is sitting there with the fire glowing on her skin and her fingers sticky with marshmallows and he knows that no matter what he says to her, she'll keep giving him a small smile and smelling like dessert and she won't just get up and leave. It's confusing to him - how comfortable he is feeling that night.
When and why the hell did he find himself trusting her all of a sudden? He doesn't even know her and he tells himself that he doesn't want her to know him. And yet, here he sits.
"So, when he gets out of jail again, you'll go back to him?" She asks.
He shrugs and doesn't answer because he supposes they both know the answer.
"I miss my sister everyday but everyday, I'm glad I was able to get away like I did. I was never just Beth Greene. I was always Maggie's little sister or Hershel's daughter. And when my daddy died… he left me some money but he left the farm – we have a farm – to Maggie. All of it. Didn't even leave me a little bit, And I guess it was finally my wakeup call to get out of there and start being Beth Greene," she says quietly.
Daryl is quiet for a moment. She's not some spoiled princess at all. He had figured that out a while ago but now, it is confirmed. "Sorry about your pops," he then tells her in the same low tone and he's genuine about it. Hopefully, she can tell that.
She looks at him then and he sees tears glassing over her eyes but she is giving him her usual small smile, too. "Thank you," she says and he looks at her, looking into her eyes, forgetting about the stars overhead because he swears, her eyes are twinkling better than anything in the sky that night.
…
They each have brought a blanket with them and they sleep on the ground next to the fire underneath the stars. When he wakes up the next morning, he sees she's already awake, stting up against the tree trunk and chewing on a marshmallow, and he's openly surprised because no one wakes up before him.
She gives him a small smile. "I didn't bring toilet paper and I didn't want to go off to the bathroom without you showing me which leaves are safe."
He hears himself actually chuckle at that and he almost tells her the story about the time he was lost for nine days and how he used poison oak leaves because at the time, he hadn't known any better, but it's too early in the day for that kind of story and he doesn't want her to stop smiling.
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He is reluctant to leave – he always in when he's in the woods and knows he has to get back – but he finds himself even more so this weekend. He knows he doesn't want to stop spending time with Beth Greene and she walks so close to him, her arm brushes against his and he starts to tell himself that maybe she doesn't want to get back either.
But then he almost scoffs at himself. Girls who are sweet like cake don't want to spend time with him and once they get back to town, they'll go back to hardly talking with each other. Daryl tells himself he's looking forward to it.
Maybe it's time he moves out of the motel. Beth Greene mixes too much up inside of his head and he knows he hates it. Things for him can be pretty simple but this girl comes into town and suddenly, he finds himself taking her hunting with him and not wanting her to go. He doesn't know what the hell it is and he tells himself that it's something he definitely doesn't like.
…
He walks her to door number two and she pulls out her key. She doesn't unlock the door to go into her room and instead, she stands there and smiles faintly up at him.
"I had the best time this weekend, Daryl," she says, looking up at him. "Thank you for taking me."
"You're welcome," he grunts and doesn't know what else to say.
Beth looks at him for another moment and then she pushes herself up on her toes and presses her lips to his cheek in a light kiss.
…
He almost doesn't go to the diner for dinner on Monday night but he's been working all day at the elementary school, fixing the bleaches in the gymnasium that are broken and no longer retracting, and by the time he's done, he's starving. He gets to the diner a little earlier than usual – around seven – and there are still other people inside. Someone is sitting in his usual booth so he goes to sit down at the counter.
"Hey," Beth appears in front of him, her smile bright and her cheeks slightly flushed, and she sets a Coke down by his hand.
He looks at her for a moment and he isn't entirely sure how to react. He's still trying to ignore the tingling in his cheek. "Hey," he then grunts.
"You're here early. Do you know what you'd like?" She asks and she's so damn perky and happy and he tells himself that it's just Beth and has nothing to do with him. Why would he think her mood is actually because of him?
He honestly doesn't know what he has a taste for and he finds himself being pretty content with just staring at her. But then something catches his eye on the counter.
"That looks good," he comments.
He wouldn't have thought it possible but Beth's smile seems to grow even more.
"Baked it myself," she says, pride evident in her tone. "Would you like a slice?"
He almost wants to laugh. Of course this girl baked a cake.
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