I'm wide awake before the sun even considers rising.
When Daryl sleeps, his face is stripped of every crease, every line. I don't mean to stare, but without a single distraction it's hard not to.
I close my eyes and listen to the sounds around us. Distantly, I can hear the sound of birds, the wind through the trees. Daryl's steady breathing skips and I know he's waking up.
He sits, beginning to untie our wrists from each other.
"I gotta take a piss." He stands and walks into the forest behind us. I gather up my things, slinging my backpack around my shoulders and stand before he's made his way back to me.
His eyebrow quirks up at my eager stance, but he says nothing.
I turn to him as he collects a few things together. It's barely dawn, but most of Joe's crew is waking slowly around me. I grip the the straps of my backpack, and try not to grin as he finally stands, bow in hand.
"You ready?" He asks, although it's clear he knows the answer.
"Yes." I am so ready to be away from the camp, it's all I can do not to run.
"Let's go." He takes off without hesitation, leading the way with a quiet weight in the air. His mood seems tense although I don't know if there's more reason than usual for that to be true.
I watch his back, the leather vest in a hypnotic wave over his shoulders. The weight of his bow makes his arm tense with every movement. He doesn't speak and he doesn't look back, which seems like a wasted opportunity. Haven't we been silenced long enough?
"What are we meant to bring back?" His body snaps at the sound of my voice.
Without turning to face me he answers, "Whatever we can get."
Great. I had enough practise with the silent treatment the last few days, but from Daryl? Why now? I try to stifle an annoyed sigh, and continue to follow him.
It's not too long before Daryl stops, and I pause with him. He holds up his hand, communicating I stay quiet and still. He aims at something I can't see from my angle, and the sound of a soaring arrow echoes off the trees. He walks over and I see it; a dead squirrel.
As he tosses the lifeless ball of fur into a sack, he begins to walk again. I watch him, and my irritation grows. Would it be that hard to talk to me? Look at me, even?
After awhile I don't try as hard to keep up with him. The forest is quiet, and the space between us means I only hear the air in my lungs coming and going. When Daryl is far enough away, I spot a squirrel I can claim for my own. As I walk over, it pauses. I reach out my hand, not my knife, and I feel the soft fur beneath my fingers.
"You're supposed to be killin 'em, not making friends." Daryl's voice sends the squirrel running. Of course he'd pay attention the second I wasn't vying for it.
"He'd be the only one I've got." I mumble and Daryl begins to walk towards me.
"What's that?"
"Nothing." I look in the direction the squirrel ran and envy his freedom.
"If you've got somethin t'say, just say it." He spits into the bush and I turn to face him. It isn't often that when I look at him that he looks straight back, and it throws me off guard. Suddenly I don't know what say.
I stammer for a moment as I try to articulate. Eventually he interrupts, "You're back here, making fast friends with our dinner and mouthing off, so spit it out."
Mouthing off? I can feel my face flush with anger.
"What the hell, Daryl?"
He doesn't answer me so I continue, "You think you've got a right to be angry? I'm the one who was attacked, I'm the one who is a ghost to those people, and I'm the one you're ignoring, so what do you have to be angry about?"
He drops his bags and bow and comes within an inch of me. I try not to step back as he approaches.
"You think you're the only one angry about that? You ever stop to think that maybe I'm trying to do what's right-"
"Right? Right for who?" I ask, trying to stand my ground.
"For you! Do you have any idea how hard I'm trying to protect you?"
"Yes." I realize it's true as I say it. My answer takes some of the venom out of his eyes.
"Doesn't explain why you won't talk to me." At my words, he raises his eyes. He looks pained, and I wish I could pull the words out of his throat.
"I am talkin to you." My eyes narrow.
"Ok, then. Let's talk." Nerves grip me as I press on, "Were you just going to pretend we hadn't kissed?" I can hear the strain in my voice as I ask, and I drop my eyes.
His silence becomes too much for me to face, and I raise my eyes for a flash. His eyes are on the ground, his mouth in a half-open frozen sentence.
I can't bare it, "If you didn't like it, and don't want to do it again-"
"I never said that."
"Right. Because you haven't said anything." He swears and shakes his head.
I try again, "I don't get what the problem is-"
"I'm not tryin' to take advantage of you." He interrupts, motioning to the direction of Joe and company.
He runs his hand through his hair and shuffles around.
"What happened with us...thats not what happened with Mike and me." I pray he can understand the difference.
"Yeah? What's so different about it?" He challenges. I feel like I've been hit by lightning.
"Everything..." I can hear my stunned voice and try to catch his eyes, "For one, with you it was consensual." I feel the familiar tightness in my throat and I can't continue. The back of my eyes burn, and I feel the warmth of tears blurring my vision.
I look down and try to gather myself. I wasn't even sure how to articulate my feeling in my own mind, let alone to him.
"What happened...it's never been like that before. For me." It's all I can say and I don't even know if he will know what I mean. I'm not sure I know what I mean.
He doesn't say anything and I wipe away a tear with the back of my hand. After awhile I hear him move.
"Been like what?" His voice is low. I'm relieved to hear the question, at least it's familiar territory; he needs me to go first. If only I could find the words to explain myself.
"I'm not sure what I'm feeling, but I'm certain I haven't felt it before."
Daryl glances at me. Quizzical and hesitant. He breathes out and looks through the trees. It felt good to say, even if I'm not sure what I admitted. For a brief moment I wonder if I should have waited, but where's the sense in that? Time has become a precious commodity. My dad always said that if you have something important to say, don't wait until it's too late.
I trust my dad's advice, and I trust myself.
"I ain't in the habit of late," Daryl begins, "of doing much that I ain't sure of." His voice is decisive, and my eyes snap up. I can't even begin to conceal the way my heart seizes, lungs tightening. Endless heat rises in my chest.
There's one more thing to add to my growing list of things Daryl does. When it comes to sharing he may make me go first, but he always delivers.
I open my mouth, shutting it quickly at the sound of a branch snapping around us. Daryl snaps his attention to the sound, and goes for the bow at his feet. My heartbeat quickens, and I follow Daryl as he walks ahead.
After a slow approach, Daryl sends an arrow through the air. I poke my head around him and feel the weight in my chest dissolve at the sight of another squirrel. Daryl goes for the body and I only wait a beat before turning around to head back the way we came.
I take a step and a half before my arm is wretched back, and I'm turned around in a fluid movement, Daryl's voice on the air, "Wait."
I feel before I can think. His lips touch mine with the weight of a butterfly wing - tentative, but his grip is tight. I know he needs me to show him it's what I want. I press up into him, the pressure sending waves of excitement through my limbs. His grip tightens further still at my assured movement against him.
I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck and I feel his hands move across my back. They press me against him like a seal. My back arching into him, I shift my mouth for air. His hand disappears into my hair, every part of me alights as he pulls me back against his lips with a shaking and desperate movement.
The urgency within me feels like a tightening rope. Impossible and more impossible still, every millisecond is explosive. I slide my lips over his, my tongue, tentatively seeking his own, is met with a deeper hunger. I can hear the unconscious sound of approval from within him, and my heart races. His thumb glides over my chin, gently tugging my jaw open for him, and my legs melt from under me.
A distant awareness grows in my mind; I've never been touched like this. A bolt of fear snaps through my excitment. Although there was an unending amount of innocence to his touch, there was also a certainty and purpose that my inexperienced fingers couldn't mirror.
My mouth shifts, and the way his lips fit mine wipes my mind clean. My hand finds the base of hairline, a tentative press into his unruly hair results in a tug towards him, although I don't think it's possible for us to be any closer than we are. Until I realize we can.
I pull back, breathing hard, and brace my hands against his chest. The look in his eyes barrels through me to my core. I add one more thing to my list:
When he looks at me like I'm the only thing that exists.
I'm sure about you.
xxx
AN: the end?
There are a few of you who consistently provide really lovely feedback and to that I say: THANK YOU! I am not sure If i will continue this one any further. Maybe it is time to call it quits and move on? Either way, thank you for reading, i will post more soon, whether it is here or in a new story!