AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.
It upset her that she couldn't have ice cream anymore. All she wanted once in a while was a little ice cream, especially during that special time in the month. He knew it very well, too. So when winter came, she had never been happier. Carl had bundled Judith up and taken her out in the snow, and Michonne had built a snowman to look like Rick playfully, much to his grudging revelation. Everyone was having fun in their own way, except Daryl. He didn't seem to understand the winter fun; she teased him and called him a humbug. He wouldn't listen to her, just grumbling and walking off.
She didn't hold it against him, but he needed to lighten up. He was always so edgy about the holiday season just because of the lack of game. He wouldn't join in when anyone offered, just sit around and sulk in the house, grumbling to the point Carol teased he might attract walkers with it, which made him grumble more and she would shut him up with a kiss or a push into the bedroom. He had practically dragged his feet when the group had decided to set up a Christmas tree as discreetly as they possibly could, sighing exasperatedly. She just giggled and made him go anyway, giving him the promise of a reward in some form.
But now she was determined to make him have some fun. She tried everything; she threw snowballs at him, she tackled him when he walked by, she drew a crossbow in the snow... Everything in the world she could think of, but he still wouldn't budge, just growling and continuing on his way. He could be so cranky sometimes that she wanted to wipe the scowl off his face. The one thing she hadn't tried was snowcones. It was the closest she could get to ice cream, too, so she was excited to do it, even on her own. She collected packets of flavoring from runs and hid them in a cupboard he never used.
One day, when he came home from a hunt, she was standing on the porch, beaming at him. He gave her an odd look; usually she was inside keeping warm by the fire. He eyed her, before stopping, saying in a surprising gentle tone, respecting he was talking to his wife, "What?"
She held out one of the cups full of snow to him. "Have one. What flavor do you want?" she asked, looking up at him innocently, seeking his approval a little desperately.
Daryl looked surprised, looking down at the little cup, frowning a little. "Snowcones...?" he said uncertainly, looking up at her. She nodded, beckoning him and bouncing inside. He followed at her heels, setting his crossbow aside, walking over to the counter with her and peering at the box.
"What flavor do you want?" Carol asked cheerfully, pointing out each one, picking one out for herself, apparently the flavor of iced tea, to which he looked a little bewildered.
He looked down again, frowning in concentration this time, picking through the packets, uttering in confusion, "Where did you find these?" He slowly picked up a strawberry one at last, decidedly not having tasted strawberries in quite a while. He tore it open, staring at it uncertainly, having never really made a snowcone before.
Carol giggled, taking the packet and pouring it onto the snow, rattling it around a bit, offering him a spoon but finding he used his mouth instead. "I collected them, for any purpose."
Daryl just gave an appreciative groan, devouring the snowcone hungrily. She looked amused as she watched him tear through it, saying softly, "You must like it." Daryl didn't make much more than an "mm!", too busy shoveling it down his throat. She laughed at the sight. He was having fun.
Winter in the apocalypse wasn't so bad after all.