Day 1: Part 4 - On Fire

I spent the rest of my afternoon trying to subtly divvy up my gear between the other survivors. Carl had been eager to learn how to use my slingshot and ball bearings and both him and Sophia had watched attentively as I demonstrated various knots for them, explaining each one's purpose in detail.

Exhausted, my mood quickly declining, I retreated to the apartment across the hall. It was sparsely furnished: only a small dining set in the kitchen and a queen-sized mattress set on a simple metal frame in the back bedroom. The floor plan mirrored the one we had settled in, with two windows spaced evenly along the outside wall of the living room.

I sank to the floor in the far corner of the room, positioned beside one of the windows. I watched the sun sink behind the towering city buildings until the walkers below were barely visible. The air in the room was a bit stifling, so I lifted the window to let in a slight breeze. The night was still, save the soft shuffling and moaning from the street.

As the sky darkened, the stars began winking on. I lost myself watching them until the sky was so full of the shining pinpoints, there didn't seem to be room for anything more. It was one good thing, I believed, that had come from the collapse: being able to see stars again.

When I came back to myself, I realized that I had a hand resting on the bandage on my side, the fingers gently tracing over the wound. The sensitivity of the skin was heightened and I knew instinctively that it must be red and inflamed with infection.

Was I ready for this? Regardless, it was coming anyways. I harbored no hope that somehow I would be immune to the zombie virus. All I felt was exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness. It startled me to realize that I felt more than a little relieved, as well. I had been running and fighting for so long and now I was done. I could feel the tension in my shoulders ease as this knowledge fully sank in. No more taking turns keeping watch at night, no more being on constant alert because a moment of release could be the moment your death would find you, no more being terrified or hungry or lonely.

A soft knock on the apartment door broke me from my thoughts. I turned to see who it was, unconcerned, but also none too thrilled about being disturbed. I needed time to think this through, to find my peace with all this. And I didn't have the energy to deal with people tonight. The darkness made it difficult to see who it was, but his voice was hard to mistake.

"Hey, it's just me." His voice wasn't real deep, but it had a raspy quality that set me nerves on alert, and not necessarily in a bad way. I sighed, frustrated that my body so readily responded to him when my mind played back how he had practically ignored me all afternoon. I had made a fool of myself, made myself vulnerable, and I was embarrassed to face him again now, not to mention a twinge of irritation at how he had acted. After the initial jumble of sensations, the irritation won out.

"Well, zombies don't typically knock, so..." I heard him snort as the door clicked behind him.

"True." He hesitated near the door, perhaps as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, or perhaps he was watching me search the darkness for him. My heart raced at his proximity and the thought of being alone in the dark with him. Unbidden, I remembered the feel of his lips on mine, the brush of his calloused fingers along my collarbone. I had never been kissed or touched like that before and I wanted to feel it again, more than anything. The strength of my body's desire pulled me from my apathy. I hadn't expected the anger I found, though. It was like fire had suddenly filled my veins and its strength was greater than what I had just been feeling.

"If you're expecting a repeat of what happened earlier, you can just leave now!" I spat vehemently, much to my own surprise. I was on a roll now, though, and didn't give him a chance to respond. "I don't appreciate being taken advantage of and I'll be damned if I let you make a fool out of me my last few hours I'm still myself!" I poured all my anger out at him in a furious tirade, everything I had held in, things I didn't even realize I had been carrying. "What happened earlier was a moment of weakness, that's all. Don't go thinking I do that kind of thing on the regular, 'cuz I don't. I've always been the good girl, too focused and driven to afford any sort of weakness or distraction. I put all of my energy into my education and my career. And for what? So I could end up back at home with my parents with a head full of knowledge that doesn't amount to shit anymore? All those years of hard work and sacrifice, reduced to nothing in an instant. But I didn't give up, did I? No. I adapted, tried to make sense of it all, and kept fighting and pressing on. Everyone around me kept giving up, but not me. I put every ounce of my energy into making sure that Lawrence and Suarez and I would see the other side of this, whatever that might be.

"Then I let my guard down for one moment and something bad happens. And not just something a little bit bad, but the worst kind of bad possible. It's not fair! I mean, what's the fucking point of it all? Don't I deserve to have a moment's rest? A moment of something enjoyable, the same as anyone else, in the midst of all this bullshit? I mean, jeez!" Spots swam before my eyes and my whole body trembled with the force of my outburst. At some point, emotionally spewing all over the poor guy, I had jumped up, because I now found myself on my feet, facing the direction I supposed him to be in, body tense as a piano wire about to snap. The instant I shut my mouth, I regretted my outburst. The anger fled my system, leaving me hollow and weary. I turned toward the window, covering my face with my hands in embarrassment.

"Oh God, I'm sorry." I sighed, running my hands over my hair.

"Whatcha apologizin' for? Nothin' you said was wrong." I didn't hear him approach, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him step into the light by the other window. I shook my head, knowing he could see me by the moon and star light, same as I could see him now.

"I had no right to yell at you like that." I snorted, laughing at myself. "I don't need anyone to make a fool of me when I do such a good job of it myself."

"No," he said, taking a step towards me. "I know firsthand 'bout goin' off on people. It happens. Even good girls get angry sometimes." In the couple short weeks I had been traveling with this man, I had never seen him express any kind of emotion, but standing by those windows, I saw something in his eyes that made my heart race. I turned my face away, hoping he couldn't see the heat I could feel in my face. He doesn't know you and you don't know him, so stop being ridiculous, I reminded myself. Don't forget that the guy didn't even pay any attention to you until after you were bitten. I sighed, sobered by the rationality of my own mind. I realized with a start that he was still talking.

"'Sides, you've every right to be angry with me. I wasn't tryin' to ignore you, I just didn't think you'd want them knowin' about it."

"You thought I didn't want them to know, or you didn't want them to know?" I responded, a little hotly. I could sense him hesitate, weighing that.

"Bit of both, I guess. Point is, if I'd've known how inexperienced you are, I would've handled things differently. Better." I whirled on him, horrified by his words. He flinched away from me, but otherwise stood his ground as I came at him again.

"How 'inexperienced' I am? What the hell do you know about it?" He didn't answer at first, but stood there matching me look for look.

"Lawrence-"

"He told you?!" I shrieked.

"It wasn't like that. They was sittin' around talkin' and it didn't take no genius to figure out what he meant." I howled, my hands clamped over my mouth as I walked back towards the window.

"Everybody knows? Oh my God," I wailed. "Now everyone knows the extent of my patheticness." Daryl tried to say something, but I didn't hear it. "Great! Let's all feel sorry for the 27-year-old virgin!" My heart was racing and I was breathing heavily. I shook and moaned inwardly, utterly humiliated. Several minutes passed before I had fully regained my composure. Facing the window still, I hastily wiped a little wetness from my cheeks.

"You should go," I said, barely audible.

"You sure?" I cut my eyes in his direction, studying his face, not that there was much to read there, as usual.

"Don't think I'm going to ask you for any favors here."

"Not what I meant." The sun was fully set by now, the moon witting just above the tops of the office buildings across the way. The sudden hush in the room left my ears ringing, yet I could still hear some shuffling and moaning from below. I cursed under my breath, realizing the kind of attention my outburst could have attracted. I sank to the floor heavily, leaning back against the wall, facing him, the double windows between us. He shifted to sit, as well, mirroring my position. He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest, while I drew my knees up, wrapping my arms around them.

"You regret it?"

"What, not having sex?"

"Any of it," he replied patiently. I studied the stars while I thought about my response.

"Sex is just sex," I started, hesitantly. "I always felt like people made a bigger deal out of it than it really warranted. It wasn't worth the risk in order to find out." I glanced at him, but he just continued to study me with his carefully blank face. "Maybe I regret never having been in love, though. It's not like I was closed off to the possibility, it just never happened for me, and that's not something you can force." He nodded in agreement.

"That all?" he pressed when I didn't continue. I hesitated again, not sure I wanted to share this with a stranger. There was something about him I couldn't shake, though.

"You have any family?" Something passed across his face that I couldn't quite name.

"Meryl, my brother. Parents died when we were younger."

"He still alive, then?"

"Last any of us saw 'im, he was here, in Atlanta. Cut off his fucking hand to save himself from those goddamn geeks. Found his hand, some blood, nothin' else." I could hear the barely controlled pain in his voice. I rubbed my face with my palms, trying to stave off the weariness that was becoming harder to ignore.

"The not knowing will kill you." He was watching me carefully. "I lost track of my little brother years ago. I can't even remember why we grew apart. I think we had a fight about my dad. I couldn't stand the man, but he idol-worshipped him. I used college to get out from under him, but when my brother turned 18, he just ran away. No one expected it. One day he was just gone. No note, no nothin'."

"He's still out there?" I nodded.

"That's why we came to Atlanta. We heard about a secure government settlement in the area and I wanted to see if they had heard anything of him there."

"No such place."

"Yeah," I snorted, shaking my head. "So we learned. I always held out hope of finding him, but now I'll never know. What's worse is he'll never know what happened to me. What if he's doing the same thing? Trying to find his way back to me? He'll never know. Never know how hard I looked for him, or how sorry I am for fighting with him or leaving him alone to deal with our parents. I would give anything for just five minutes with him." I knuckled a tear from the corner of my eye before it could break free.

"He hit you?" he asked in hushed tones.

"Who? My dad?" I shook my head. "No, nothing that we didn't deserve, at least. But both my parents had tempers and could be very difficult to get along with at times. I can't even count the number of times my father yelled and screamed at me, telling me I was selfish or worthless, threatening to kick me out of his house or cut me off. We always had to walk on eggshells around him. My mother, well, she just never stood up to him. I never really got to know her as a person. It was like she hid everything that made her an individual in order to avoid doing or saying something to set off my father."

"Our mother died when we were little. Merle and I had to protect ourselves from our dad. Merle got the worst of it, but when he wasn't around..."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, averting my eyes. There was a knock on the door, saving us from the awkward silence.

"Hey," we heard a distinctly male voice say. I recognized it as Rick. Daryl greeted him in kind. "I wanted to make sure you were still alive over here. We heard some yelling and screaming earlier and then nothing for awhile. Some of us were concerned." Daryl chuckled, glancing at me.

"We're fine. Just talkin'." Rick grunted, but I sensed some skepticism.

"If I add some alcohol to this...conversation, am I going to return to find you both still alive?" Daryl laughed a little harder and I couldn't help but snicker.

"The only thing Daryl has to fear is that I'll doze off on him." Daryl smiled at me. I could barely keep my eyes open, yet my body still found the energy to respond with a half-hearted flutter. I rolled my eyes at myself inwardly.

"What've you got?" Rick's feet barely made a sound as he crossed the distance from the door. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and I wondered suddenly what he thought was going on here and if he suspected what had happened on the roof earlier. Interestingly enough, it didn't bother me. I didn't sense judgment from him, only a curiosity, like he was trying to figure me out. And then I remembered that he and everybody else knew one of my closest held secrets and the rest of my energy leaked out into the carpet. I leaned my head back and let my eyelids droop shut.

"There were a couple bottles of liquor in what Annaleese and the guys scavenged today, but Hershel wants to save those for medicinal purposes. He doesn't have any use for this, though, so I figured you had earned it." I cracked an eye to confirm that he was addressing me, even as he was handing a frosty colored wine bottle to Daryl. I forced both eyes open to acknowledge him, mumbling a word of thanks. Daryl studied the bottle and then nodded at Rick.

"What about keepin' watch?" Rick shook his head.

"Get some rest tonight. Both of you." He directed the latter remark at me.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." I was so tired that I almost started giggling, but neither of them looked amused with me. Rick turned back to Daryl.

"We'll see you a little later then?"

"Sure." Rick nodded at each of us in turn and then slipped back out of the apartment.

"So what is it?" Daryl studied the label again.

"Some sort of fruity shit. French."

"Hmmm." I yawned and rubbed my eyes with my knuckles, trying to force myself to wake up.

"Why don't you sleep a bit? You've barely closed your eyes in two days." I shook my head.

"I don't want to waste my last hours sleeping." He didn't seem to know how to respond, but focused instead on unwrapping the foil from the top of the bottle and popping the cork. I stood and stretched, my muscles sore and achy. "I want to go for a walk, get some fresh air. If I keep sitting still I'll fall asleep for sure." I headed towards the door, not sure if he would follow. He watched me cross the room, but gave no indication of what he was thinking. The muscles in my legs protested and then tendon in my right heel was stiff, causing me to limp a little. Hand on the knob, I hesitated. I knew it was foolish, but I liked the way my body reacted to Daryl and I was sure this would be the last time I'd experience those sensations, so I was reluctant to leave if he wasn't going to follow. My pride, however, was insisting that I not do anything to let him know what I was thinking and feeling. He must've sensed my hesitation because he shifted around to face me. I could tell he was waiting for something from me, a sign or indication that I wanted him along. Damn.

"You coming or what?" He shrugged, turning to pick up the crossbow he had leaned against the wall. I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, as if he was smirking, probably pleased that he had succeeded in making me ask.

"Might as well. Ain't got nothin' better to do."

"Gee, thanks," I mumbled, opening the door.

"Welcome," he said, in his typically gruff voice. When I glanced over my shoulder at him, though, I definitely saw a smirk. I shook my head. Yup, definitely not sleeping with this guy. On the other hand, I didn't want to be alone right now. That seemed strange to me, since I had gone to the other apartment for that exact reason. I mulled that over as we headed up the stairs to the roof. Why did I feel the need to escape from the rest of the group, but I didn't mind this stranger's company. You would think that in my last hours I would want one of my buddies there, like Suarez or Lawrence. No, I thought, shaking my head. If they were here I would be taking care of them, worrying that I'd say the wrong thing and make this harder on them.

I was feeling a little winded with still one flight of stairs left. I paused to catch my breath. Daryl moved past me, but stopped on the next landing to wait for me. And yet, I thought, studying the man in front of me. They would likely feel hurt to know that I was spending this time with someone we just met instead of with them. Oh well, I spat, if this is what I want right now, no one has the right to judge me for it. I felt a little spark of energy with that thought, enough to get me up that last flight of stairs. My thighs were burning, but it felt good to be moving around again.

Thinking the breeze up here would feel nice on my bare skin, I hadn't bothered to bring my jacket. However, I had forgotten that it was still changing from winter to spring and what had felt like a relief in the stale room below was like ice up here. This was worsened by the fact that I had worked up a sweat just now. My mom would have fussed at me that I was going to catch a cold. I smiled a little at the thought. Daryl must have seen my initial reaction because he started to remove his jacket. I waved him off, though, out of habit. I had always had trouble accepting kindness from others.

"I'm fine. Once we move around a bit, it won't feel so bad." He readjusted the jacket without comment. I glanced around, wondering where we would walk to. Just doing laps around the top of our own building grew more appealing by the second. Daryl pointed towards a side of the roof I hadn't explored yet.

"C'mon gimpy, we can cross 4 or 5 buildings in that direction."

"Gimpy?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in mock irritation.

"Yeah," he replied, glancing back as we started walking. He slowed to match his pace to mine. He tried to be casual about it, but I noticed. "You've got a hitch in your get-along."

"A hitch in my what?" I asked, eyebrows raised. He laughed and my heart skipped a beat at the sound. I could tell he didn't do that often because he cut it short and carefully removed all emotion from his face. He had practiced that skill a lot, it seemed.

"You claim you're raised in the country, but ya don't know that sayin'?"

"Well sure, but we say 'giddy up', not 'get-along'." He eyed me skeptically and I could see a remnant of that laugh in his eyes.

"'Giddy up'?"

"Mmhmm."

"Like a horse."

"Yup." I smiled up at him playfully. It took a second, but I succeeded in getting him to smile back. You're flirting, I chided myself in a sing-song voice. Shit. We had reached the edge of the roof, but I didn't see any ladders or walkways as we approached. I looked around, confused, but as we grew closer I noticed that the next building butted up to this one so that it was only a short hop down. It clicked that he must've investigated these roofs when we first arrived since they accessed our own building so easily.

Daryl hopped down first and then held a hand out for me. I contemplated doing it myself, but knew I'd really hurt my pride if I tried and ended up on my ass. I placed my hand in his and hopped to the next roof. His hand was warm, like he had been holding them over a radiator.

"Damn, girl! Your fingers are ice!" He dropped my hand and whipped his jacket off, as quickly as he could without hurting his crossbow and the wine, at least. I opened my mouth to protest, but he gave me a look that said he wouldn't back down this time.

"We ain't movin' til you wear it."

"Oh for heaven's sake, it's no big deal!" Nevertheless, I ended up in Daryl's jacket and he in a long-sleeve t-shirt. It didn't help that the jacket was infused with the delicious smell of him. And it was so warm from his own body heat, I was in danger of falling asleep even as we walked.

"Are you always so pushy?" I tried to sound grumpy, but it came out sounding tired.

"Only with stubborn women."

"Meet a lot of those?"

"Not many left these days who wouldn't be." I paused, his words sinking in. Those of us left were all survivors and fighters. Any weakness was beign culled out.

"Good point." We walked in silence for a few minutes, passing the wine back and forth. It was a sparkling wine with a light peach flavor and none of the bitterness typical of wines. I had to subdue a moan the first moment it touched my tongue. I hadn't tasted anything so pleasant in a long time.

"So was your wife stubborn, too?" I hadn't meant anything by it, but he shot me a sideways glance.

"Never married." That surprised me.

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Sorry, I just assumed…"

"You callin' me old?" he asked, teasingly, as he took the bottle from my hand.

"Hey, if the shoe fits," I retorted, smiling. We went back and forth like that for some time, talking about our lives in the world before. I shared stories from my college years and he about the mischief he and his brother or his friends used to cause. We avoided anything serious, both sensing the need to keep the conversation light. Halfways through the bottle I was already feeling it, my nose and lips tingly and numb. We had traversed several more rooftops, reaching the last one which was a larger drop than the first had been. Daryl hardly hesitated before hopping down, but I had to sit down on the ledge first. I was fascinated by the way his biceps moved beneath his shirt when he used the roof edge as support to jump down. Another complication from the wine. I passed him the wine, what was left of it, and his crossbow. He set them down nearby and then held his hands out to me. I raised my eyebrows skeptically. He narrowed his eyes at me in silent argument. I didn't have the energy to protest, however, so there wasn't really an argument. I leaned forward to put my hands securely on his shoulders and then let him catch me as I slid off the ledge. Despite his help, I landed wrong on my sore heel and my knee buckled in protest to the pain shooting up my lower leg. I gasped, but Daryl pulled me into him, supporting me while I regained my balance. The pain had been momentary and once I wiggled it around, it felt fine.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just landed funny. Sorry." Looking up at him then, still encircled in his arms, I realized why I had wanted him with me tonight and it had nothing to do with my libido. I didn't have to be strong with him. I could let my guard down, be weak, and not have him judge me for it. I felt my tentative grip on my composure almost slip, but I couldn't collapse in tears against him, as much as I might want to.

HIs lips pressed gently against mine brought me back to reality. This kiss wasn't like earlier; it was slow and careful, like dipping the first toe in the water to check the temperature. My heart fluttered weakly in my chest, too tired to invest further in what was happening. My hands were between us, against his chest, and his arms were still wrapped around me when the ground beneath me suddenly tilted then rushed up towards me. I gave a startled cry, catching his shirt in my fists, but he caught and held me easily.

"Maybe mixin' wine with exhaustion wasn't the best idea." He scooped me up in his arms and carried me over to a raised platform some AC units sat on.

"Sorry," I mumbled against his shoulder, still too dizzy to open my eyes.

"Stop apologizin'," he grumbled at me. With my ear against his chest, I could hear his voice resonate a little. He lay me down on the bricks and then went back for our things. By the time he returned, I was sitting up and the world had righted itself.

"Better?" he asked, sitting down beside me. I nodded.

"Maybe it was silly for me to think I could finish this without sleeping," I reluctantly admitted. He smiled at me reassuringly. He hesitated when I reached for the wine, but relinquished it after taking a hefty drink. He made a face as he passed it to me. I gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Not a fan of fruity wine?"

"Nope." I finished what he had left in the bottle and we set it aside. We sat in silence for what seemed an eternity. For my part, I wasn't sure how I felt about that second kiss, other than the fact that I had really enjoyed it and wouldn't mind some repeat action. I knew, though, what that would lead to, and it scared me. My body wanted, even craved, that intimacy, but my mind knew it would only cause problems. The more I thought about it, the harder it was for me to remember what those problems were, though. It wasn't like diseases or babies were really a concern for a woman with one day left to live, two tops. There was the fact that everybody could and probably would find out. Then I remembered that I had stopped caring so much about what others think of me, and even if I did care, no one had any right to judge what I chose to do with my last day or so.

What about him? It was easy for me to know why I wanted him, but why did he want me? Was it just physical for him and all this was just to warm me up for it? The reality was that I didn't know him. He could be completely playing with me, using me, and I would have no idea. I had to pause to reign in my worryings.

So what? I thought. What if he is just using me? Wouldn't I be using him, as well? I told him earlier that sex wasn't what I regret not doing, though. Had I changed my mind? No, that wasn't quite it, because there were other guys I'd been attracted to and it was rarely just a physical thing. It was also about the chemistry and the person within the body. God, I'm such a girl! I had to laugh at myself and how complicated I was making this. Bottom line was: I was using him too by imagining that there was something more than there was. But why did I have to imagine that? Why couldn't I leave it as casual fun? Because, given time, you would probably fall in love with him.

So this is what I knew: I really liked this guy, but beyond that, I couldn't really decipher how I felt without things getting overly complicated and confusing. I also knew that, physically, I was incredibly attracted to him and wanted to do things with him. Forget the pretenses, the truth was that I wanted to know what it would be like to sleep with him and if sex would be everything I thought and expected. The other thing I knew was that he was a really good kisser and that gave me hope for what could come after the kissing.

I sighed, wishing I could stop being so timid and just go for what I wanted. He turned to look at me, curious.

"I wish I had met you before all this," I explained.

"You wouldn't've given a no-good redneck like me a second glance." Surprised, my instinct was to deny what he'd said, but I couldn't. We moved in different circles back then.

"Huh. Well, I guess if anyone should benefit from the zombie apocalypse, it should be you. I guess you went from underdog to top dog, huh?" I had meant it as a joke, but I think I could see a little sadness in his face.

"What kind of dumbass needs the end of the world to make him get his shit together?" I didn't know what to say. Feeling a little helpless, I tried slipping my hand into his and squeezing it, reassuring him. He stared at our hands, slowly entwining his fingers with mine. His hands still felt warm to the touch, but not as dramatically as before. He shifted his gaze to me with an expression I couldn't read. With exaggerated slowness, he released my hand and brushed my bangs off my forehead, letting his fingertips brush my skin. It was a very tender gesture that seemed out of place for him. He didn't seem so sure of it himself, as if this was new territory for him, as well. The kissing was definitely an area he was confident and practiced in, though. He took his time with each step, as if he knew I needed time to become comfortable with each new experience. I lost track of time as we sat there, making out. I was caught up in the feel of his lips, the way they moved against mine and just the general nearness of him. Even moving at glacial speed, things were escalating. His kisses became more insistent and I was growing bolder with my exploration of his body, too.

I wasn't sure exactly what my body wanted, but I knew it wanted him, and it wasn't going to be patient much longer. Our tongues explored one another, at first tentatively, but then with increasing confidence. He lay me back on the concrete, angling his body over and against mine. His whole length was stretched out beside mine and it sent a little shiver through my belly to feel the weight of him against my hip. His fingertips were sliding under the edge of my shirt, gently brushing the pale skin of my belly, tracing the line of my hip bone.

It's difficult to describe how this all made me feel, because that's more important than what we actually were doing. Physically, it was like being deprived of all senses except those attuned to him. Keeping my eyes closed increased this feeling of isolation, as if there were only the two of us in all the world. I could hear, but only him and myself and us; I could feel, but only our two bodies and where they met; my nose was filled with the scent of him and my mouth, the taste. I wanted nothing more than to stay in this place with him.

When I had kissed guys before, there was no sense of connection, just a pleasant act, but no desire for more. This felt familiar, like coming home after a long journey. I know that sounds trite and perhaps a little corny, but nothing else can describe the immense sense of relief being with him brought me. I knew that this is what I'd been waiting for. Maybe we didn't know each other well, but it was like our bodies did, and perhaps even something deeper. This wasn't something separate from ourselves, but rather an extension of ourselves. The way he took his time, savoring each moment and taking consideration for me and my level of comfort, I felt like it was giving me a glimpse of the real man behind the careful mask and guarded words. I was careful not to trust what I was sensing, aware that men aren't always genuine when working a girl up, intent on only one thing, but I didn't understand how that wouldn't be obvious, either. There was such an intense feeling of vulnerability and intimacy. I wasn't sure if it was that or the physical part that made my heart race.

I pulled back, wanting to see his face, his eyes. Though half-veiled, there was no doubt in my mind that what I saw there was real.

"Maybe we should head back," I whispered, suddenly very aware of the hard concrete under me.

We stood, awkwardly avoiding one another's eyes, on opposite sides of the room. I shifted from one foot to the other, trying to find something to do with my hands. I settled on just shoving them in my pockets, my shoulders hunched defensively. Daryl had his legs crossed at the ankles, leaning back against the wall as he stared out of the windows in an effort to seem relaxed. His body was too stiff and his stare too fixed to be casual, though.

The spell had obviously been broken, and yet, what I wanted hadn't changed. I pictured myself just walking over and kissing him, but my body wouldn't move and my heart raced like I'd had too much caffeine.

"You scared?" Daryl asked, breaking the silence. I giggled nervously at the directness of his question.

"Of sex?" I tried to play it off as if that was a ridiculous notion, but it felt false to me. He studied me for a moment.

"I meant of dying."

"Oh," I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my face. "Uh...well…" I stumbled, caught off guard because I hadn't actually been thinking about that, a realization that surprised me. "Not of death, per se," I responded, having collected myself, "but of the actual dying process, yes. I'm sure sure it'll be worse when the symptoms become more obvious." He nodded, still watching me. We lapsed into another silence before he spoke again.

"I'm gonna head back over," he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the other apartment. The disappointment was like a sinking feeling, pooling around my feet.

"Oh….ok." His eyes shot back to my face.

"Unless you want me to stay." Our eyes locked as we tried to gauge each other without giving anything of our own away. I was afraid to have him know that I still wanted him, afraid to be the first to admit it, afraid of the intimacy to come, afraid I'd be disappointed. I laughed at myself, at my own cowardice.

"This is a ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. I wasn't looking at Daryl, but I saw his face grow hard, as he turned to leave.

"Oh no! No, I didn't mean us," I said, gesturing between him and I. He hesitated, still unsure. HIs face was carefully blank. I wonder if I could break that careful mask of his.

"I'm laughing at how ridiculous I'm being. I mean, I've got all these thoughts running through my head, as if any of it matters when I'm -" I cut myself off before finishing the thought. I didn't care to think about that right now. I wanted a distraction. I glanced sideways at Daryl, who watched me cautiously. I want him to distract me. He seemed to be waiting for something, some sign from me, perhaps. And then it clicked. He couldn't make the first move because it could seem like him taking advantage of me, of a dying girl. It had to be obvious that this was my choice, my decision. I didn't think the threat of judgement lay with the others in his group, though. The real threat was him playing this over in his mind after I was gone. Somehow, I could sense that about him. It was probably confusing for him, being attracted to a girl who'd be dead soon. Perhaps he was even questioning his own motives, too. I felt myself relax as all of this ran through my mind. It had to be me. I had to take the responsibility for this.

I slowly crossed the space between us, fascinated by the shift in his face as he realized my intentions. He held very still as I pressed my lips against his. I could feel his hesitation in the way he held back. I pulled back enough to see his face, his eyes.

"You scared?" We both knew what he meant this time. I smiled a little.

"Terrified, but I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't make decisions based on fear. Sometimes I forget that." When I kissed him this time, I felt his body respond to mine. The tension in him eased, though his hands still trembled slightly as he slid his jacket off my shoulders. The feel of his muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt was enough to calm any remaining anxiety.

He took his time with me and I learned that he had the capacity to be very gentle and attentive. Everything was new to me, but he was a patient teacher and never once showed any frustration or disappointment. It took a little time for the initial pain and discomfort to subside and to adjust to being filled so completely, but the subsequent pleasure was the most exquisite I had ever experienced. Being with Daryl was different than I had expected, but I drifted to sleep content and thoroughly distracted.