Once Daryl laid next to me, sleep overcame me like a storm.

I had slept through the night and woke up the next morning, freaking out because I was late for school. My shooting up in bed elicited an attempt at a calming noise from Daryl, who was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room with his shotgun close by and his knives and whetstone in his lap.

"Calm down, Beth," the hunter murmured, his eyes never leaving the task at hand. "Yer okay, everythin's alright."

Shaking my head, I ran my fingers through my wild blonde hair. "I have class today," I replied, my voice hoarse from all the crying I'd done the night before. Peering over at the nightstand, I noticed that the clock said it was 10:37, an hour and a half past my class time. "But I missed it. I guess, never mind."

Setting his tools down, Daryl leaned over, resting his forearms on his knees. I could see the bags underneath his eyes. I knew what they meant. He'd stayed up all night watching over me like some type of guardian angel regardless of the fact that I'd asked him to sleep. I honestly should have expected him to do the exact opposite of what I asked, but I had just wished that maybe he wouldn't take all this on his own shoulders. "I used yer phone ta call Sasha," he explained, running his nimble fingers through his midnight hair. "Told 'er ya wouldn' be comin' in today. Said she'd take notes fer ya." His face quickly morphed into that of an over protective parent. "She also said somethin' about a coffee date?" he asked gruffly, "but I told 'er no can do."

I swung my legs off the bed so my feet were touching the cold hardwood floor. Sasha and I had coffee every week since we became friends years before. It was a tradition we hardly ever broke and I didn't intend to start doing so then. "I can go meet her for coffee Daryl," he replied sternly. "We go every week for years now. I can't just not go."

Daryl looked at me like I'd just said the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. "Exactly," he said just as harshly. Pointing at me with his hunting knife, he peered down the blade at me. "First trick ta huntin'? Ya learn how yer game behaves."

It hit me in that instant. Daryl was right. If I really did have a stalker, he'd know my routine. He'd know that I always have coffee with Sasha. He'd know where we go, where we sit. We even usually got the same drinks. It all made me question what else this mystery man knew about my life. However, with as scared as I was, there was also a part of me that refused to let this selfish ass take away my life. I wasn't about to sit back and change my entire life just because of this man. "He can't take my life from me, Daryl," I responded, standing finally even though my knees were still a bit shaky. "I'm going to meet Sasha for coffee and that's that."

Huffing, Daryl rapidly stood from his chair. "How am I supposed ta protect ya if ya run off like some little girl?!" he bellowed, slamming the knife down into the wooden peg on the bed frame so it stood on its own. Not expecting a reaction like that, I pulled back and away from him, almost scared. Of course he noticed my movements, which made him run his fingers though his hair again only this time it was aggressive, frantic. "I can't keep ya safe if ya can't listen, Beth. If ya go, yer only makin' it easier fer 'im."

Throwing on my shoes and grabbing a jacket from Daryl's closet, I opened the bedroom door to find the apartment empty. "Then you can come with me," I offered. "Just make sure to give us space to talk..."

"You have to go to the police, Beth," Sasha warned, sipping on her espresso quickly after I finished regaling her with my story. The look in her eyes had started off as one of disbelief but by the time I pointed out Daryl, sitting in the back with a plain black coffee and a motorcycle magazine, she'd finally started to believe me. "If someone is really following you, this isn't something you and Daryl should handle on your own. Y'all need help."

Sipping my caramel macchiato, I quickly set it down once my hands stopped shaking. "I'm goin' there today," I answered, my gaze dropping down to my paper coffee cup. I knew I had to report what had happened, but honestly what could the police do for me that Daryl couldn't? They couldn't post a police officer at my door 24/7 but Daryl lived right across the hall. They couldn't arrest anyone without proof of what happened and who had done it, which I couldn't give because I had no clue who was following me. They could probably run my phone line and see where the phone call came from, but that was about it. "I just don't know what they can do for me. That's all."

I looked across the quiet college coffee bar and took in my surroundings. The same brick walls and posters, the worn and comfortable leather couches encircling the room. There were multiple people there that I'd recognized from previous stops into the shop. I could feel my heart rate quicken as a thought came to mind. What if my stalker was there? What if it was someone inside? I quickly tried to figure out who had been there before I showed up versus who'd arrived after but my brain began to blank out. It wasn't until I heard Sasha's concerned voice that I was finally able to snap back into the present. "-Still need to go," she instructed, taking my hand in hers. It reminded me of when Maggie would do that for me when I was scared as a child. "Go, go to the station and file a report. Then go call your sister and brother. Maybe it's time they came for a visit."

I knew Sasha was right, but I was terrified to call Maggie and Shawn. If my stalker was someone from Savannah, maybe they didn't know about my siblings. Maybe that made my family safe. Shaking my head free of the paranoid delusions that were forming inside my head, I sipped my coffee again. "Maybe," I replied, looking over and locking eyes with Daryl. A sudden sense of calm came over me, like someone had simply washed the fear away. Even if I couldn't have Shawn and Maggie, at least I had Daryl. He'd never let anything happen to me. I knew that with every ounce of my being regardless of our 'status'. "Maybe I'll call them after I get a bit more information. Wouldn't want to scare them for nothing, y'know?"

She was just so beautiful...

Her hair was shining in the light of the coffee shop like the heavenly halo it was. The bright gold was enough to draw in my attention the instant I pulled my camera from my bag. I could tell she was wearing her favorite dress still, my favorite dress. It was like she wanted me to see her in it, like she was putting on a show just for me. That's all this was, a show. She didn't want to be too easy. She was just playing hard to get. I knew that, and it only made the game that much more fun. The closer I got, the harder she played, and it was the most fun I'd had in years.

After snapping a few more photos for our album, something else caught my eye. Her jacket. The sleeves were far too long to fit her slender arms. The jacket itself hung too far down her tight, toned legs. I could see tears and patches from excessive use. I knew who's jacket it was and it infuriated me. Didn't Daryl realize she was better off? Didn't he see how happy I made her? How I compliment her and watch her constantly to make sure she's safe? I was providing things for her that he could never do. Couldn't he just accept that and move on? How could Beth and I start our relationship if that redneck moron was standing in my way? Moving my lens so I could scope out the cafe, I gritted my teeth at what I found. Lo and behold was the hunter himself, sitting in the back of the room hiding behind some magazine. Obviously he didn't want her to know he was there. It was then that I knew my true purpose. I had to save Beth from her evil, repulsive, dimwitted neighbor and his convict brother. No woman like Beth deserved to be in such company, to have her reputation runined by associating with such scum.

Guess Daryl Dixon was just one more obstacle that needed to be dealt with...

...and soon.