Carol would have slept naked every night if she could. Feeling the luxurious the silk sheets against her skin was unbelievable, second only to Daryl's touch.
"I'm taking these with us when we leave," she declared, stretching and writhing under the red sheet. She never would have bought red silk sheets for her home, afraid of what Ed would have said, would have done, but Daryl wasn't Ed. He was the farthest thing from him. Comforting, gentle, caring, and loving. Yes, there were polar opposites.
"Woman, if those sheets make you smile like that, I'll carry them everywhere for you," Daryl replied, smirking at her as he pulled his boxers back on. He watched as she rolled onto her stomach, raising her ass in the air for him. The way she was wiggling was enough to drive him crazy.
"It's not just the sheets. It's you, Daryl. You're what makes me happy." Carol reached for his hand and pulled him back into bed. He lifted his arm so she could slide into place at his side, her head on his shoulder. "I love you," she whispered.
"Love you too," Daryl replied, kissing her forehead and closing his eyes.
Cuddling. The thought was foreign to him. No one had cuddled Daryl as far as he could remember. Maybe his mother did when he was a baby, but as soon as he was able to walk and talk, it surely stopped. He remembered being sick when he was a child, just needing some comfort, a hug from his mother to make him feel better. Instead, he would get an earful from his father about needing to toughen up, to take it like a man. At least he would be spared any more physical pain on those days
Merle sure didn't cuddle him when he was little as some big brothers do. Never had a girlfriend to snuggle up on a couch with. Hell, he never even had a puppy to curl up with.
Then the world went to shit. His parents were long gone. Merle had sacrificed himself in one final act of honor, or maybe it was a first act of honor. It seemed it took the rising of the dead for both Dixon's to find their place in life, to find value.
Carol shifted in her sleep, her hand sliding across his stomach and resting on his chest. It felt so natural for him to wrap his arm around her back, holding her tightly in place next to his body. Finally, at the end of the world, he had found the person with the comforting touch that made him feel better that he had longed for throughout his miserable life.
Moonlight beamed in through the window, illuminating the room just enough for Daryl to study her angelic features. Merle had once referred to her as a little wood pixie when he came back to the prison with him. While he was sure Merle had meant that in a perverted way, when she appeared in the woods in front of him, with her short hair and a twinkle in her eyes, he would agree she was pixie-like.
Carol woke up sometime during the night, tears streaming down her cheeks. Daryl shot up out of bed, worried they were under attack. He was reaching for his crossbow as Carol got out of bed to stop him. She knew his time with Joe's group had made him very jumpy, but he didn't go into the detail with her. When she prodded him for details, he mumbled something about protecting her from what could have happened on the road.
"There's no one here. I'm sorry I woke you up," Carol whimpered through her sobs. She gently brushed the tears off of her raw skin with the blanket.
"So, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Daryl sat back down on the bed and pulled Carol closer, cradling her against his chest. "Another nightmare?"
Carol's nightmares weren't anything new to Daryl, or even the rest of the group. After the discovery of Sophia back on Hershel's farm, she had a few of them every night. Over time, the intensity and the frequency diminished. Anyone that paid attention to them was able to see the reason why. Daryl's closeness to her allowed her to feel protected both while awake and while dreaming.
"I just keep playing it over in my head," she confessed, burying her face in his shirt. She wasn't sure if she was just seeking his comforting touch or attempting to hide from the memories.
"What? It's just us in here. Don't you trust me anymore?" Daryl couldn't disguise the disappointment in his voice as he tried to encourage her to talk about what was on her mind. After Rick was so quick to kick her out, he understood her hesitation, but he wasn't Rick.
The words cut her deeply. Never in her life had she dreamed of trusting another person as much as she trusted him. After everything they had been through, Sophia, the tombs, and Merle, they trusted each other with everything.
"That's not it, Daryl," she said, pulling herself up to a sitting position. She reached for his hand, clasping it firmly with both of hers. For once, she was the one who couldn't look in his eyes. "I trust you completely. I just… I just can't talk about it yet. Please, just be patient with me, a little while longer." Carol placed her head back on his chest and pulled the blanket up around herself, letting him know that at least for now, the conversation was over.
Daryl nodded his agreement, not trusting his words to come out right at the moment. He could see the pain in her reddened eyes. Everyone has lost so much, some more than others. She had lost Sophia, and now the other two girls. He didn't even know what happened to them when the asshole stormed the gates. Of course, that was what was bothering her. How could he not have realized that sooner?
He sat up for the rest of the night, unable to sleep for more than a few minutes here and there. She woke up a few times throughout the night, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. Each time she woke, he reassured her they were ok, they were alone, and she could trust him.
She reminded him of a startled deer in the woods, ready to run at a moment's notice. It hurt him to see her this way, unable to do anything to help her other than just be there. He would wait until she was ready to open up about whatever it was that had happened to her out there.