Beth didn't know how long she was lying there, barely half conscious, the sun peaking through the wooden panels boarding the windows. Though every breath in reminded her of the frigid air outside the bed, she was more comfortable than she had been in years. She couldn't bring herself to move even a toe out of fear of disturbing her peace.

It wasn't until Daryl let out a long exhale on her neck that she finally became aware of where she was. She was in bed with Daryl Dixon. Being spooned by the same man she had once seen wearing a necklace of walker ears.

But he wasn't the same man, not anymore. The Daryl she had grown to know over the past few months was one of the most earnest men she had met in her life. He was the man who, when he saw her begin to lose hope for her missing sister, flopped into the snow to make her an uneven snow angel, even though he couldn't verbalize his support. He was the man who reached nervously for her hand the previous night, thinking he was acting surly but really wore the face of a worried teenage boy. He was the same man who suggested they both get their first full night of rest in months and almost immediately after falling asleep, pulled her in closer to him, burying his face in her hair with a content sigh.

Over the past few months together, Beth had found herself growing to respect Daryl, to trust in him, and eventually to understand him. But now she realized there was something more to their relationship, something that a temporary safety from the walkers had allowed to erupt into feelings that could no longer be ignored.

"Shit! Shit, sorry." Daryl mumbled suddenly, verbally berating himself as he rolled away from Beth and back onto "his side" of the bed before sitting up. By the time she rolled over to face him he was aggressively trying to rub the red out of his cheeks, running his hands over his face and into his hair.

"Shit, sorry." He mumbled again, making fleeting eye contact before feigning a sudden interest in scratching the back of his neck.

"S'okay… Really s'okay" She insisted, unsure how to make him feel less embarrassed. She knew that a humiliated Daryl would pull away and probably refuse to touch her for weeks. And now, after being so close to him, she knew she couldn't handle that loss.

"No, I guess, guess I was cold or sunthin…" He said, still avoiding direct eye contact.

"Daryl…" Beth slowly began to reach her hand toward him but he shifted further away, causing her breath to catch.

"No, I'm… I should… I should restart the fire, then I can-" He began speaking hurriedly, listing chores he could complete alone, away from her.

"Daryl." Beth called his attention again, this time with more force in her voice. He finally looked up, his face an unnatural mixture of vulnerability and artificial annoyance.

"I dunno why you're sayin' sorry… I never said I didn't like it…" Though she tried to sound resolute, Beth could hear her own voice shake as she forced herself to maintain eye contact.

Daryl looked taken aback upon hearing her confession, his eyes growing wide for a moment and his jaw tightening. Beth took advantage of his silence, speaking quickly to keep him from moving further away, "I know this might sound sudden… but come'on Daryl, we both know it ain't. Things haven't been the same since the funeral home. We haven't been the same."

Daryl remained quiet, watching her face with an intense curiosity, his eyes narrowing in thought. Beth sat up on her heals, so she and Daryl were nearly eye to eye, and placed her hands firmly on her knees to keep herself from reaching out to touch him.

Suddenly, she felt a panic growing in her chest, an awareness that if she lost Daryl right now, she might lose him forever. Even if he didn't leave her physically, they could never be the same.

"Damn it Daryl, I know you gotta feel somethin'." She pleaded, her voice building with each breath. "There's no way this is just me! I can't go back. Sometimes you just gotta believe there's something good out there. But maybe there's something good in here too- we got something here and we gotta take advantage of it while we can."

"I can't…" Daryl started, shaking his head slowly but keeping his eyes focused on Beth.

Suddenly, she recognized the wounded look in his eyes, one she had previously mistaken for skepticism, and it all made sense. She tried reaching out again and this time he allowed her to grab his hand, letting it relax in hers. She started once more, her voice quieter but more confident, "Daryl, sometimes you gotta believe you deserve to be happy. I know the world's thrown a whole lotta crap at you, more than anyone deserves, but you're still a good man. Please don't ignore me just cause you think you don't deserve somethin good. You do, we both do."

Daryl sighed, and in the moment, Beth felt her whole boy relax with relief.

"Damn it Greene, where'd you get all this hope?" Daryl asked, unable to keep a smirk from his lips.

Beth just smiled, "Oh.. you know…"