Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This story is meant to fit in some point during the winter when they were going from house to house. Focusing on the scenario of: What if Daryl and Carol had met once before, decades before the virus and their escape from Atlanta. *Just to clear something up, this could be construed as an AU – however the way I plan to work it into the plot makes it virtually cannon compliant.
Warnings: Contains some minor season two and three spoilers, references to Daryl's past, allusions to domestic abuse/violence, sexual imagery, adult language and mature content.
Lady in Red
Chapter 4
She hadn't been looking for anyone. Not a rebound or an easy score. No, she'd been more in the mood for a strong drink and a good old fashioned, mental man-shaming sort of evening. One that was best spent with your girlfriends, a few tubs of ice cream, red wine and a stack of romantic comedies that would last as long as your hangover the next morning. - Only this time she was alone. She hadn't had the heart to call Jen or Margie. Not after she'd found Jay and well, whoever that girl was.
But in spite of her best intentions, that was when she caught sight of him.
He was sitting at the table in the middle of the aisle. Shadowed by the corner and the overhead beams and haloed in the glow of the dusty neon lights. Dirty nails brushing across chapped lips almost sensually as a hand-rolled blunt hung precariously from between his index and middle fingers.
All in all he painted quite the picture, wreathed behind a thin fog of cigarette smoke, all dark and mysterious with his long bangs and grim expression. But it was more than that, more than just the play of light arcing across his features, highlighting the occasional mole or half faded scar. There was something about him that defied definition - something unorthodox and barely caged.
His posture was ridged and nervous, negating the careless way his limbs had been thrown across the stool - spine stiff-backed but loose as he stretched in place. Arching up until a few inches of toned stomach peeked out from underneath his shirt, revealing a thin trail of honey brown hair that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. Tantalizing and strangely suggestive in an unintentional sort of way as he smoothed it down and tossed back the rest of his drink.
To be honest, it made her cheeks heat. Feeling a bit like a voyageur as she watched his fingers comb through his hair. Thoughtless yet still undeniably sensual as the action only worsened his off center cow-licks and uncombed hair. - And to top it all off, it certainly didn't help that his lips were wrapped around his cigarette with an obscene sort of focus that actually made her thighs clench.
He didn't even seem aware of her, not even so much as batting an eye in her direction as one of the servers breezed past and took her order. And to be honest, she loved him for it.
He was nursing a tall glass of liquor she could actually smell. Something rich and dark that turned burnt amber in the low light, reflecting across the table in uneven prisms as he glared out at the world through suspicious eyes. He fixed his stare on anyone that came close. Upper lip curling into an irritated snarl as the noise level rose and fell - reminding her more of a wounded animal than a man as he seemed to draw into himself a little bit more every time one of the waitresses brushed past.
Everything about him seemed deliberate, real, everything from the greasy tinge to his bangs to the tired circles under his eyes. Nothing about him seemed fake or put on for show. Even the way he sat seemed to exclude a sort of "fuck you sideways" type of expression that kept the men at an arm's length and the women secretly contemplative - if the slightly hooded expression of the petite bottle-blond lounging against the bar was any indication.
He looked like he was trying to disappear and she could relate to that. She was fresh out of her first real breakup, and to be honest she hadn't been looking for anything more than a stiff drink and a distraction.
Still, there was something about him that had peaked her interest. For example, she'd found that men his age were often more concerned with shooting the breeze and coasting through their third or fourth job after high school, too busy living to figure out what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Whereas he just seemed…settled, tired, like he'd already been around that block once or twice before and had had his fill of it.
He was nothing like Jay. Not in appearance or bearing, and she immediately liked him for it. Jay didn't slouch when he sat, nor did he hold his glass like it was an old friend. Jay's hair had been blond and perpetually trimmed, while this man boasted a messy head of dark brown hair that hid his eyes. Making it difficult to see where he was looking or what was going on in his head.
Jen would have called that mysterious. And while she did see the allure, in reality it just made her want to dissect him. To study him and appreciate him piece by piece until there were no more secrets, no more bangs to hide behind or excuses to offer. Until there was nothing left but truth, truth and the ability to measure a person by one of the most basic of measures known to mankind, by their worth - outside and in.
Because chance meetings aside, she couldn't help but think that this man seemed to have depths that went beyond the surface. There was so much left unspoken about him, both literally and figuratively. …Or maybe, given her current train wreck of a romantic life, she just wanted to think that. From where she was sitting it was getting rather hard to tell.
Either way she'd been so busy taking him in that she hadn't even noticed the other guy.
It appeared that the competition was quick around here because the man in question wasted no time in appearing from nowhere. Sidling out of the shadows and ignoring the dark haired man entirely as he barged past and cleared his throat.
He slid into her booth with a leer and an over confident smile. Giving her a blatant once over as he raised his drink in salute. "To you, sweetheart," He purred, downing the glass with the ease of an after work alcoholic before signalling to the waitress to bring him another.
It took her a moment, but when she finally realized what all this was leading up to she startled backwards. Suddenly finding herself far too close to that fake smile and slicked back hair than she was strictly comfortable with as the stranger quickly closed the gap between them.
The man was a tall, dirty blond bombshell with dimples and a strong chin. And what was worse was that he knew it too. Hell, within five seconds flat she had him pegged as the kind of guy that spends far too long in front of the mirror in the morning – in love with his own reflection.
And somewhat unsurprisingly, the man had a wardrobe to match his personality. He was dressed in a pretentious grey suit and an emerald green tie that so closely matched the color of his eyes that it couldn't have been an accident. Her suspicions were only confirmed when she glanced down and caught sight of the wedding band on his ring finger, looking polished and near brand new as it glinted up from his finger like a reminder.
"Do I know you?" She asked politely. Trying to keep the edge out of her voice as the newcomer continued to advance. Not sure what to make of the exchange as out of the corner of her eye, she watched the dark haired man's posture stiffen.
"Not yet." The blond replied, barely missing a beat as he sprawled back against the cushions, slick and smooth like some used car salesman trying to make a sedan look like corvette. All but sweating insincerity as his trousers brushed deliberately against her bare legs.
Her back hit the hard edge of the booth with an audible thud, trapping her in place as she tried to inch her way backwards. Feeling uncomfortable and almost dizzy as a veritable smog of cheap cologne and stale bourbon wafted through the air in his wake.
Christ, had the man taken a bath in the stuff or what?!
"What are you drinkin' tonight, sugar? Can I get 'ya another?" He purred, apparently undeterred as he took a swig of his drink and smacked his lips appreciatively.
"My drink is doing just fine thank you." She said firmly, deciding to cut him off at the pass as he resumed inching across the bench in pursuit.
"Aw, darlin' don't be like that. It 'aint polite to treat a stranger like they were less than yesterday's news, now is it?" He drawled. Eyes flashing as he leaned forward, one part intimidating and the rest creepy as he fixed her with what she assumed was supposed to be a soulful look.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. Please leave." She replied coolly. Fingers clamping down on the couch cushions as the man's eyebrows rose and an irritated expression overtook the sleazy smile.
Dammit! She'd been an idiot to come here. Christ, what the hell was she thinking!? Coming to a place like this alone?!
But that was when it happened - the moment when that lone voice suddenly growled out of the dark.
"Hey buddy, shove off. She said she wasn't interested." The younger man spat. The words coming out more like a growl than anything else as he leaned forward from his table in the aisle - voice rough and pitching in all the right places as the butt of his cigarette glowed red.
She shivered as she met the younger man's eyes, catching the gleam in the near dark as the blond turned around to look. Taking him in from scuffed boots to tousled brown hair before he snorted in derision, apparently unimpressed as his posture straightened and his expression grew smug.
"Listen pal, we're in the middle of something here. Who do you think you are to-" Her would be suitor began, only to get cut off when the younger man took a slow, deliberate swallow of his drink and talked right over him.
"I aint gonna say it again." The dark haired man butted in, cutting him off before he could even so much as finish as the blond choked on his drink. Green eyes going wide as the younger man's voice dipped low – raspy and dry, like the consistency of an old calibrator as he leaned forward and fixed the asshole with a piercing glare.
The stranger visibly squirmed. Looking between them indecisively, like he was considering his options before the younger man slammed down his glass and narrowed his eyes. - And in the end, that was all it took. She barely had time to register the sound of his suit jacket flapping out behind him as the man took off in the direction of the bar. Presumably to go mend his shattered ego in private.
"Thanks." She sighed gratefully, watching with no small amount of amusement as the other patrons chuckled. Raising their glasses in her direction in some sort of introductory salute as the man all but fell over himself in his haste to get away.
"No problem." The younger man grunted. Taking a drag on his smoke and drowning the pause with a healthy swallow as the smoke swirled above his head in an awkward halo of muted neon and chemical grey. Turning the air acrid and bitter as eager lips wrapped around the hand-rolled cig with all the flippant delicacy that one would expect from a couple's second first kiss or the type of attitude a surly teenager tends to exclude when they've been tasked with setting the table with their mama's best china.
"Let me get you your next one?" She offered. Trying to keep him talking as his eyes momentarily flickered over in her direction before dismissing her again. Expression guarded as he leaned back in his chair, his very posture designed to discourage conversation as he fiddled with a loose piece of plaster on the wall behind him.
"You don't owe me nothin'..." He replied, tone going sharp as he stubbed out his cigarette and avoided her eyes.
"I know, but I'd like to all the same." She insisted, not at all deterred by his closed demeanor as she watched him rummage around his breast pocket. Pulling out one of those old fashioned silver cigarette cases and shaking out another before snapping it closed. Stuffing it back into his jacket and zipping it up to the chin like he was readying himself to leave.
"Suit yourself." He muttered as she flagged down the waitress, looking surprisingly surly about the entire affair as he hunched his shoulders and started fiddling with one of the coasters.
"I'll have what he's having." She said cheerfully, pulling a twenty from her purse with barely a pause as the harried looking waitress whipped out her notepad. Feeling bolder than she'd felt in a long time as she made sure to look him right in the eye as she did it.
But for all her efforts of trying to get a rise out of him, he just stared back. Eyes fathomless and dark, yet still strangely warm as he caught her gaze and held it, turning her small victory into a stalemate that only made the game that much more intriguing.
Either way, the message was clear. He wasn't one to roll over and play nice just because the wind was blowin' in the right direction. - But then again, neither was she.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! I am foreseeing this story to stretch at least a few more chapters, so hold onto your butts! There will be more to come! I am posting this chapter a bit early this week, due to my work schedule I had a bit more time to work on it which resulted in it being done early. I will try to have another chapter ready by Friday, my regular updating day, but I can't guarantee it. Fingers crossed!
"What's past is prologue." ― William Shakespeare, (The Tempest)