Hey everyone! I hope you're all still reading and following along! This chapter gets even more interesting than the last, I must say, and it is definitely one of my favorites so far. I hope you all like it! Please review, I really need it...Thanks and enjoy!
The funeral for Sophia was difficult to attend to this morning. It was so hard watching the once strong, determined faces of everyone evolve into visible emotions so sad and somber. This was going to be near impossible to recover from, I knew it would be, but I knew they would all continue to fight for her sake. I kept thinking about a plethora of things, my mind unable to focus. I thought about Daryl mostly, but I didn't have any will in me to want to face my feelings today, so I kept pushing the bitter notions away. It's like nothing lately is beginning to make any sense at all. I watched Andrea and T-Dog pile the corpses into a truck, getting ready to dispose of them. I wanted to ask any God why we were having to do this, but I wasn't sure if I believed in such a spiritual entity these days. It just didn't make sense how we were having to put bullets in the heads of our loved ones, day after wretched day. We have to suddenly learn that the world isn't what it was, and we have to adapt to that, but we are unsure how. How are we supposed to protect ourselves from this never ending nightmare? How are we supposed to sleep knowing there are armies of bloodthirsty monsters lurking around our camps at all times? How are we supposed to keep a hope alive that a possible change or revelation is out there and coming? None of us really knew how to handle all of this, and maybe we are just pretending that we do until something good happens.
I've been trying to avoid everyone lately, just to eliminate further problems. But I couldn't help but notice Rick, Glenn, and Hershel have been gone for a while. I think Lori went to go look for Rick, but instead she returned with Shane moments ago. I can see the two of them arguing and Carl standing nearby. The last thing anyone needs is that. I audibly sighed, tired of all of the fighting going on recently. Shane has gone completely hot-headed, doing whatever he pleases whenever he pleases. He feels like this is what is right, but I'm having a hard time believing that this is what the group really needs. He is just stirring up issues and tugging on fraying ties that are just barely holding this group together and I can tell it is putting a lot of stress on anyone involved. I saw Lori walk off, the features on her face turning into something melancholy-looking. I watched her walk over to her tent and sit inside. I decided to say something to her, hoping to turn something around.
"Knock, knock," I greeted as I approached her tent. I saw her turn her face up towards the netted window and she forced a depressed smile. I took that as some sort of a welcoming, and I stepped in and sat by her. "Congratulations," I said only, knowing she'll understand.
"Thank you," she nodded. Her voice sounded off, as if she was trying so hard not to cry. I only just found out about her pregnancy, but I strongly commended her for being so brave and tenacious on willing to raise a child in a world so unfit.
"You're doing a really great thing. I know it's hard but if anyone can do it, I know it has to be you," I reassured her. I saw tears slip down her cheeks now and I began to feel bad. "Sorry," I said softly and stood to get out.
"No," she vocalized faintly, the sound of her struggle not to cry much more prominent and apparent, "I appreciate it, Lauren. I know we've not always been on the right page, but I hope things are well with you." I bit my lip and watched her, her gaze on me was knowing and sincere. She knew what I had also been dealing with. She knew about Daryl. She knows. Like a mother, she can easily tell what's wrong. I had to sit again, I, myself, knew I had to confide in her. I broke down, spilling my built up emotions everywhere; almost like a cup that got too full. She quickly moved her arms around my body comfortingly and held my head to her chest. I felt horrible about putting this extra pressure on her, but it got to the point where my feelings were so overwhelming that I couldn't take it anymore.
"I don't…know what to do..." I cried, "I hate this. I'm so weak."
"You are not weak," she said, shushing me, "that is the last thing you ever will be."
"I'm a joke-"
"Lauren, we all have our moments. I know it's been particularly hard for every one of us lately."
"Yeah but i-if it's not one thing…it's the next," I sniffled, "I don't know how much long-longer I can deal with it all…" She continued to try and calm me, holding me still.
"Unfortunately, that's just one thing you've gotta adapt to. We all are still learning to do it."
We spent several moments just sitting like that, with her coaxing me back into reality. It worked, however, she calmed me down enough for me to regain myself. Her words meant a lot to me in that conversation. She continued her gentle lecture and also spoke briefly about Daryl and what she thinks on it. She said something vaguely similar to what Hershel and Glenn did, along the lines of how immature we were both acting and that there is something much deeper between the two of us that no one can really begin to comprehend yet. I'm tired of people telling me that the two of us need to talk it out though. Because as much as I want to, there are factors spilling into the mix that are making me refrain. For example, how does one even begin talking about a non-existent relationship? Another factor would be that it is in fact involving Daryl Dixon, and a Dixon ain't pussy-shit to talk about his feelings like that. I thought about our kiss. I questioned the validity of it, if he was entirely sober before and during or if he was put up to it by someone else. I just…don't understand. I liked the kiss. Point blank. It made me feel something I hadn't felt in so long. I felt free in his arms, along with bursts passion and lust. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted him to pull me into his chest and kiss me twenty times better than that. I want him to hold me like I mean something to him and not let me go. After all of this, I questioned what I felt for Daryl too. He was such an asshole, but something about those arms- No. Not the arms. However muscular and tan they might be. But his character was something to be wondered about. He seems to have taken so entirely long to build up this "I-don't-give-a-fuck" attitude and reaction towards everything but that is just about the opposite of who he is. Everything he does for these people is through the ounces of kindness and carefulness strung within the depths of his shockingly warm heart. I have found myself falling for him. Maybe that's why I'm getting so hurt by it all. I thanked Lori graciously and apologized for my emotional outburst. She understood considerately, offering me a gentle hug before I decided it would be best for her if I gave her space.
Night was approaching quickly, and I decided to head off and find something to eat. I saw Carol and Daryl arguing earlier, but it would've been my best bet to not intervene. The two have not coping with this Sophia thing very well and, I'm assuming, decided to take it out on each other rather than beating their own selves up about it. I strolled over to Dale's RV and he offered me an open can of beans and a spoon. I nodded and took them gratefully as I had barely eaten all day. I sat by my tent and ate the beans slowly, savoring every last bite. I noticed Daryl shifting around his belongings by his tent. He moved it far away from the others earlier, I think to avoid them as much as possible. Darkness soon enclosed the entire camp and I tossed away my empty can and brought my spoon back into the RV before heading off to my tent again to go to sleep. I hesitated before opening the door flaps, and turned around to look at Daryl again. The cold, night air danced across the surface of my exposed skin and I shivered. I looked back through the screen window at my bag sitting in my tent. I remembered a bottle of whiskey my brother had left me and I had picked up but never opened. I didn't like whiskey much but I couldn't think to get rid of it because it was my brother's favorite. I returned my gaze back at Daryl. He just sat there, rubbing his head and gazing at the stars glittering the entire blackness of the sky above. I shrugged before unzipping my tent and climbing in. I opened my duffle bag and pulled the hefty bottle of alcohol out. I turned it over in my hands, sliding my fingers over the glass. I pursed my lips as I considered my options and if I should really go through with what I was thinking. Oh Jesus. It's not like I have anything else to lose, I guess. I tucked the bottle under my arm and reached over to my cot, pulling the small blanket off of it. I sighed before getting up on my feet and beginning to walk over to him. I wasn't really thinking about it, but my feet seemed to move robotically towards his camp. He didn't realize that I was there until I was about five feet away. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it and held out the bottle instead. He looked at it and then to me, cocking an eyebrow with a stupid little smirk on his face.
"Fancy a glass?" I questioned, my voice coming out as an embarrassing little squeak. Christ. Thankfully, he only chuckled and shrugged.
"Big drink for a little lady," he laughed and took the bottle. He patted the spot on the ground next to him, motioning for me to sit. He popped it open and grinned. I tossed my blanket around my bare shoulders and sat down.
"Gorgeous," he said and held it out in front of him, the label gleaming in the moonlight. He took a swig and then another before handing it to me. I took it with a smile, and drunk as much as I could, wincing a little as I felt it burn down my throat. He noticed this and laughed again, "Not a fan, huh? Good, more for me." He took the bottle back and downed another couple swallows. We shared it all, not saying much, but having quite a few laughs here and there. I felt the alcohol begin to stir up in my body, particularly my mind. Embarrassingly, I could've always been considered a lightweight. I gazed at Daryl, and through an almost drunken haze he looked remarkably handsome in the dim light of his old lantern and the moon and stars above us. He caught me staring and turned his head the other direction, wiping the whiskey from his lips. I crept a little closer to him, and reached my hand out and placed it under his chin, turning his head back to me. I squinted to look at his features. He looked different to me. So much more soft and gentle. I gazed at his lips. They looked as tempting as they had yesterday. He didn't move a muscle, but watched me only, anticipating whatever was to happen next. I wasn't even fully aware of my own self as I craned my neck and head to sit just an inch or two away from his face. I went for it. I closed the space between us and pressed my lips to his, and a little grunt escaped his throat but the good thing is was that he didn't protest. It was like I had full control over this man right now and it felt so good. I climbed over to straddle his lap, keeping a gentle hand on his face, caressing the stubble-spotted cheek with my thumb. His own hands hesitated on where to go exactly until I felt the blanket slide off my shoulders and heard it fall to the ground next to us. One of his hands settled in my hair, gently cradling my head, and the other travel down my side and rest on my butt. I placed my hand on his chest, feeling it stiffen at my touch just like it had so many times before.
"Relax," I pulled slightly away and whispered. I continued and kissed him roughly again and trailed one hand down the dirty cotton of his sleeveless shirt, the fingers of the other one tangling in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. I played with the hem at the bottom before moving my hand under it. The bandage was still wrapped around his torso, keeping the arrow wound in his side healthy. I skipped past that and rested my fingers on his bare chest. The way he kissed me appeared a little rougher as I did this and his tongue grazed my lower lip before he bit at it gently, earning an automatic grunt from me. He smirked into the kiss, moving his hand off my ass and up onto my lower back instead. Apparently he thinks he's hot shit. I didn't care, however, I have never felt so good in so long. Our kisses were electrifying, filling me with so much giddiness I don't know how I was able to contain it. His hand slid smoothly up the back of my shirt and his fingers only wrapped around the clasp of my bra. Goddamn. The feel of the rough callouses on his fingers sent shivers throughout my body and my skin immediately reacted, rising in little goose bumps. I pulled my head away and pressed my lips to his jawline and then at his neck teasingly and I heard a fragment of a moan escape his throat. I smiled at myself before continuing on. I had advantage over him now and I couldn't explain it how good it felt.
This man did things to me. The alcohol spun through my system and I started to feel odd, but I didn't want this to end. I peppered several kisses at his collarbone and he let out a low growl before he moved me to sit up. He tugged at the bottom hem of my shirt eagerly and I let him pull it off. The crisp night air continued to chill on my skin, but it didn't matter. He bit down on his lower lip and gazed at me in wonder, his eyes trailing my body up and down.
"Beautiful," he said quietly, cocking his head to the side. My heart ached as I felt that this was just the alcohol talking. Daryl would never compliment me like that. I leaned down and kissed him again as a thankful gesture. It was much gentler this time and I felt his hand climb up my back and pull the hair tie out of my messy bun, letting the long, blonde locks fall down onto my bare skin. He moved his hands up to the sides of my face, holding it. He caressed my cheek with his thumb as he continued to kiss me. I gradually began to feel weary, the events of the day finally catching up with the alcohol in my system. I know he noticed this as my kisses began to get lazier and softer. He pulled away and looked at me, the gaze in his drunken, glazed eyes was only slightly lustful now, but much more caring and loving. I have never seen him like this since I've been here, not even for a second. He moved a hand under my knees and carefully kept one on my back. He stood, slightly stumbling as he tried to recollect himself. He carried me over to his open tent and placed my body on the cot inside. I only guessed it was because he was too tired and lazy to carry me back to my own. He left for moments. From the inside of the tarp abode, I saw the light of his lantern turn out. He didn't return until minutes later.
I heard his footsteps grow nearer and some shuffling around. I couldn't see him in the dark, but I felt him slowly get in the makeshift bed next to my body. He shifted himself around so that we could both be comfortable enough, and he pulled the old quilt over the two of us. I laid my head on his chest and I could tell that his heart was beating hard. Oddly, I was still very cold and still shivered relentlessly. He must've noticed this and pulled my body just a fraction closer to his own, warm one. None of us spoke for several moments. Something just didn't feel right. As close as we were to each other, there was kind of an emptiness between us, and I noticed it quite quickly. I wasn't going to allow myself to become depressed by it, however, due to how much happiness I had just felt moments before. But the tense feeling kept slapping me in the face almost, and I felt like something was obviously missing. Something had to be said, or done, but I just couldn't seem to put my finger on it. Maybe I'll figure it out one day. It was hard to fall asleep but I soon drifted off to the lull of his heartbeat, but only after silently hoping that I would remember this night.