How Beth got dragged into this, she wasn't sure. She found herself sitting at the bar of this pub, probably the most modestly dressed girl in the entire building. Rosita was off doing Lord knows what with God knows who, while she was left to her own devices. Not that this was anything knew. Beth usually ended up deemed the designated driver for her friends, considering she didn't drink all that much. She supposed most college kids used any excuse they could find to get shitfaced, her friends certainly did, but it wasn't really her thing.
"I'm gonna pinch everyone of you fuckers not wearing green!" Beth cringed when she heard her friend declare from the other side of the pub.
"You think she means it?" A rough voice grunted from beside her. Beth swiveled her gaze to the man. He was staring at her with an eyebrow raised up to wear his shaggy hair fell on his forehead just above his blue eyes. He was attractive, she'd give him that much.
"You think she doesn't?" Beth shot back, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Should I be worried then? Ain't got no green on." He said. "Don't much want to be pinched."
Beth's smirk turned into a smile and she fingered the green beads hanging off of her neck before lifting them and placing them on him.
"Better now, mister...?"
"Daryl Dixon." He filled in.
"Better now, Mr. Dixon?" Beth asked. He looked her over, his eyebrow raised again questioningly.
"You ain't got green on now." He grunted.
"Oh, I've got plenty of green on." Beth smirked again. "You just can't see it."
A cry of outrage sounded from the other side of the bar and Beth and Daryl turned their attention towards it. Rosita stood in front of affronted man with an obviously false look of innocence on her face. Beth murmured a cute little 'oh no', before she swiveled and hopped off the stool she was planted on.
"I should go collect my friend before she gets into any real trouble." She said with an apologetic shrug. "Beth Greene, by the way. Hope to see you around, Mr. Dixon."
Daryl watched as she walked away into the crowd.
Since that night, they'd bumped into one another again and again before they'd ever decided to make their meetings intentional. Now with Beth Greene walking at his side, her hand slotted perfectly into his, he couldn't help but thinking that The Luck of the Irish had to be a real thing, because it was pure lucky he'd ever met Beth Greene.
Another short one. I don't think I like the ending but I didn't want to leave it off at her walking away. Its good enough though, yeah? Maybe I'll tweak it some time. Reviews are always appreciated so review if you want...or something.