Hey guys..It's been awhile! Thank you to the new people who have favorited and followed, it means a LOT! I hope you guys like this new installment of this story..It's one of the longer chapters I have written but it's definitely one of my favorites :) Pre-warning: there is extra fluffy fluff in this...READ ON AND ENJOY!
Recovering was our biggest issue. The physical, emotional, and mental pain that all of us were enduring was hard to deal with. The lot of us were all lost in our own selves and our sadness and depression. At the point you thought you couldn't lose anymore, you do. It slipped right through all of our fingers. At what point do you just give up? It was obvious that there was nothing more to live for, so why are we all trying still? Is there ever going to be a cure or light at the end of this long, agonizing, metaphoric tunnel? Or are we all just going to continue to struggle through the rest of our pathetic lives, losing our companions one after another, being deprived of our shelter, starving and exhausted? Every single day I pretend that things are going to be okay. Bullshit. This isn't okay. Good things aren't coming. Ever. We are all tricking ourselves into believing that this is all just going to magically get better…right? I'm honestly questioning my will to go on. Well actually, I don't think I ever stopped, except everything I'm thinking about at this moment is different. The thoughts are worse now, angry and bitter. I think I'm growing cold and heartless. Maybe this is just my conscience convincing me that that is how I'm supposed to be to be strong enough to sustain any kind of sanity lately.
I remembered last night, in full detail. Rick had shouted at all of us and we only sat there vulnerable, huddled around a weak, dying fire. Before he did, everyone was questioning his authority and strength to lead all of us. It was hard to listen to their words. I didn't want them turning on him, he was one of the most level-headed superiors of our group. I could only keep my thoughts as quiet as I was. He then stormed in and told us that he was the one that killed Shane. I didn't know how to feel. Scared and nervous, I scooted closer into Daryl's body. His body was warm and comfortable, which was weird because the blustery atmosphere was so cold. He slyly moved a protective arm around my back and rested his hand roughly on my hip. He didn't look at me, but kept his eyes on Rick. He held a brave face and clenched his jaw, watching the angry man. Rick told us that maybe we would be better off without him. That wasn't true, even he knew that. I looked at the others. No one dared to move a muscle. They looked completely shocked, though, their faces ridden of the soft expressions they once held. Carl was crying, and I couldn't help but to notice the slight tears welling up in Carol's eyes as well as Beth's. This was the most stern I have ever seen Rick. I knew that we had to stay with him, no matter what. It's going to be hard, one of the most difficult things to do even, but we had to press on. For what exactly, I'm still trying to figure out, but we have to…with him steering and guiding us to be the most successful individuals we can be in this new life.
Who knew the next eight months following the big disaster were going to be pretty close to just as devastating. We loomed over neighborhoods and stayed in the horrid houses for nights on end. We all remained so hungry, sleep deprived, and so lost on what to do and where to go. I've grown to accept things more, however, I knew that this is what it took to survive now. But we are all so tense and tired due to not being able to stay somewhere longer than two or three nights and that was just extremely exhausting and hard to deal with. There is so much pressure on us all. We are so desperate to the point that there was really only one little grain of hope left that we all are literally grasping onto for dear life. A little hope that maybe there will be something to save us soon. Hopefully a shelter, some food, or more survivors. Anything that will make life in this living hell even just a little bit better. We've been moving in circles for months, however, with no hint of anything positive in our path. We were held up in a house earlier, but a large group of walkers invaded and chased us all off to a highway. Rick and Daryl went off to go hunting not too long ago and the rest of us are back in search of water and resources.
This was it. The moment we've been waiting for. After a couple hours, the two men had soon returned back with word of a taken over prison not too far from where we were parked. My heart leaped in my chest when Rick went off about how safe he believed it would be to stay held up in there instead of out here. This shined on the little amount hope we had. The only thing that threw me off was when he explained that the place was littered with dozens maybe hundreds of walkers. It couldn't help to scope out the place, though, maybe discover a way around this situation. So, that's what we did.
Watching the undead dead parade around the prison yard was, in a way, frightening. If that's where we wanted to stay, it was going to involve hefty amounts of work and effort to clear it out. The lot of us were determined, however, we knew that this was our only chance if we wanted to survive any longer. A prison was the perfect idea. Lined with fences and concrete walls, this was the safest place for us to spend our days in. It was all just a matter of who or what exactly was haunting the halls inside.
Clearing out the prison yard took the duration of the entire day to achieve. It was good, though. In fact, it felt really, really good. With bullets planted in their heads, watching the walkers' bodies fall to the ground, one after another, felt relieving. I felt like a renewed person. A new survivor. Tomorrow, we will clean out the bodies and then enter the jail building in hopes of taking over that. Right now, this was single-handedly the most amazing thing we have experienced in months. Darkness soon enveloped the camp and the majority of us gathered around a small fire, exhausted but content. We ate some leftover food and talked, dwelling in the moment we were sharing. I subconsciously kept looking over at Daryl, whom took the role of watching the gate first. Crossbow in hand, he continued to pace around multiple times on top of the wall of crates he was standing on. I hesitated, but then rose to my feet and sauntered over to him. He wasn't aware that I was there until I cleared my throat. He looked down and I held a dish of food up in his direction. He gave a half smirk in return and I smiled back and set the bowl on the edge of the stand. He slung his bow around his shoulder and bent down, offering me a hand to pull me up. I took it graciously, and he lifted my weight up to stand with him. He picked up the food again and began gratefully snacking. I watched him and could only laugh a little.
"What's up, sunshine?" he played sarcastically, licking his fingers.
"Just wanted to say hi," I chuckled. I witnessed a flicker of joy light up in his eyes as I spoke. "You alright?"
"Yeah, for now," he replied, his mouth full of food, "but you?" He has been asking me this a lot lately. It's like, recently, everything going on has been especially difficult for me to deal with, mentally, physically, and emotionally. It's clear to say I haven't been in the best place and, to my surprise, he has been there for me through it all. He offers some encouraging words, but it's mostly just him literally being there with me. Just having him and knowing he is near offers an overwhelming sense of reassurance and protection that is vital for me right now. I've fallen into slumps of depression, even for weeks at a time not to mention that my anxiety level has been constantly through the roof. But a lot of my other personal issues occur at night, and mostly involve me being awoken in the midst of my slumber, screaming and trembling wildly due to the innumerable amount of nightmares and terrors that have been transpiring. The coping is just us spending countless hours and evenings sleeping next to each other in the houses we've been held up in. Whenever the episodes would happen, he was always there to calm me down and console me right away. Never once has he come off as frightened as he took care of me, but deep down I knew this scared him as much as it scared me. He wouldn't show it though, he kept a straight face and a reassuring, strong heart. For me. And this meant the world to me, and I only hoped he knew how grateful I was.
"A little better now," I replied blankly, watching the others gathered around the fire in the distance. I was mainly referencing to the fact that, for one time in several months, we were technically safe. For now, anyway.
"You sure?"
I only nodded to reassure him. He still wasn't too big on showing the others any of our personal affection, and I knew he never would be. But, pushing that aside, he set the near empty dish down by his feet. He licked his fingers before motioning for me to come closer to him. Whether the others could see us or not, it honestly didn't matter. He opened his arms and let me walk into his muscular body as he enveloped me in his warm, protective embrace. His hands trailed around my back and rubbed it comfortingly. I buried my face in his poncho which smelled like…well…Daryl. Cigarettes, sweat, and dirt. Oh God, he smelled so bad, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't help but to love it so much. The scent gave me a sense of tranquility, almost, as every time previously that I had been clouded by it, Daryl was with me. As he hugged me now, he whispered words into my hair, telling me that things were going to be okay, that we are okay now, and how good it is that we are all still alive and together.
My mind was flooded with memories of the past eight months being held up in house after house, starving, but forced to stay together. Daryl and I grew close. Closer than I would've ever imagined. We've been through some tough things together throughout those several weeks. I mean, I went through some of the hardest days of my life and he was there. He was always there. He was so overwhelmingly supportive, kind, and understanding throughout the entire fiasco. Oh God, never in a million years would I have ever pinpointed Daryl as a sensitive guy, but the way he has been treating me makes me believe that I have some sort of effect on him to make him give in to that kind of attribute. I mean, the guy is still the toughest here, resilient as fuck, but he's always the one to put me first for anything that's been happening. I've never wanted to say it, but I have grown strong feelings for this man. I don't know, I may be dumb, but no one has ever done this much for me. Ever. I can't even begin to explain my feelings, though, they're so odd like nothing I've ever felt for anyone before. Outside the apocalypse, a guy like Daryl wouldn't even look my way. Maybe that's what's making him act like this. The apocalypse. He just feels pity towards me and has nothing better to do with his time so he does what he does. God damn, I am such a fool. Absolutely pathetic of me to believe that I'll ever be that important. Even if that's the truth, I can't help what I feel for someone who has been nothing but supportive and loving. To me, yeah, it's hard to say, but I truly like him though. I like him a lot more than I ever expected to. He is making me feel like I have something to live for now, and that's really hard to do. To get him to admit to feeling anything towards me, if at all, would be a miracle. But to him, that's some pussy shit. He'd never speak a word regarding his emotions, and I get that. But if only there was some way that I could squeeze a word out of him...that would be much appreciated right now. I am just extremely confused and tangled in a mess of my own feelings and I don't know what to do. I just need some leeway.
"I needed that," I mumbled as I pulled away slowly.
"I know," he replied, his voice deep and rugged, but gentle all the same. He looked at me longingly, his eyes scanning my features. I did the same to him, and the way he looked at me almost made me emotional. I have never felt so much passion in a gaze between two people in my life. It was so caring and protective, it felt truly loving. A feeling I haven't had the blessing of being touched by in ages. I couldn't move, I just…couldn't. I didn't want to fall out of the trance. I aspired to linger in it for as long as possible, and he granted that to me. He only held his hands on my hips, curling his fingers to grasp onto the cotton of my shirt. My gut filled with dozens of butterflies and my mind began to feel light and airy. It shook me to the core. The feeling he gave me got to the point where I almost couldn't bear it any longer. To step away from this man would be a goddamn foolish move that I wasn't about to make. I kissed him. This kiss was the most unbelievably passionate one I have ever had the experience to share. That was because he kissed back with just as much infatuation and lust as I had. Yes, we've kissed before, hundreds of times before, but this, to me, felt different. It was weird and entirely inconceivable. Like, everything has been so fucking bad for so long but now it has been immediately wiped away in one second of intimate passion. Everything around us seemed to evolve into a blur of noise and motion. It was like Daryl and I were the only two there, the only two existing for those many moments. I knew he felt the blinding passion of the kiss because a soft whimper escaped his throat and he pulled my small figure to him by the hem of my shirt. He pressed his own strong body closer into me, if that was even possible. He made me forget everything that has been happening. I felt only solely responsible for one thing now and that was to create this moment into something that neither of us would forget. It happened. I would never forget the way he continued to hold me. Or the way his tongue slipped past my lips and continued to tease me. I wouldn't dare lose the memory of his hand, sliding down to my ass. The way it slipped under the waistband of my shorts and rested on the skin underneath. The way his fingers curled into it and squeezed. I wouldn't forget the way his other hand held the side of my face gingerly caressing my cheekbone with his calloused thumb. There were two sides to this kiss: the soft, gentle one and the rough, sexually dominant one. Goddamn. Both of them combined was easily the best feeling in the entire world. Nothing in the universe would have made me want this moment to stop. Unfortunately, it had to eventually. The kiss slowed down a lot and his hands retreated back to my face. He pulled just his face away for a second and then pecked at my lips one last time before his hands fell to my hips again. He rested his forehead against mine and I felt his hot breath brush my skin once more.
"Shit," was all I managed to squeak out in a whisper. He openly smirked slyly back at me. "I uh…we should get back," I stumbled over my words and pointed over my shoulder towards the others with my thumb. He chuckled and nodded, pulling away and grabbing the dish by his feet. He hopped off of the stand and held an open, helpful hand up towards me. I grasped it and, with his strength, he helped me leap down to the ground effortlessly just the same. I held his hand the entire distance there and we shyly retreated our own when we were just a couple feet away from the group. The others started laying out sleeping bags and blankets near the fire. I decided to do that too and laid mine out a small distance away from the others. Daryl placed his pillow on the ground near mine. I couldn't help but notice the slight chill in the night air and I began trembling a little bit as the slight breeze kissed my bare skin. Daryl noticed this quite quickly and tossed his extra blanket over my body, adjusting it so it fit over my naked limbs. I turned towards him and squinted in the dark, to only slightly see his face. His tired features were solely illuminated by the moon in the vast sky above, but it was obvious that his eyes were watching me. I reached over and grasped his hand. I brought it to my face and pressed a soft kiss to the top of it. The real pleasure was witnessing him smile just a little bit after I did this.
I made it through the night without any prominent scares, which was both surprising and wonderful. But on the other hand, Daryl was not next to me as I woke up and that was quite odd. I must have slept in a little longer than usual. I scoped the prison yard out and saw a majority of the group gathered together at the gate leading to the main jail building. Daryl stood out to me first, and I gazed over at him until he noticed that I was up. He shot an acknowledging nod in my direction and I did the same back. I winced as I stretched, the tightness of my muscles aching my limbs and my back stiff from sleeping on the ground. I quickly rolled up my sleeping bag and set everything near my backpack. I laced up my combat boots and began walking over to the others. They were discussing how to go about clearing out the prison. I asked if I could help fight and Rick was hesitant. Daryl interrupted and said that it would be good for me to do and spoke about it being beneficial for us. He said that he had my back if anything went wrong. And I believed him, and Rick must've too because he nodded and passed me a machete. I watched the abundance of gross corpses walking around near the building and my stomach churned. Rick threw the gate open and we all slid in. We stuck very close together, watching every angle. Every one of our shots were very effective and accurate and we were able to clear out a majority of the bodies. They fell one after another, filling me with a sense of achievement. The others shouted at the fence line and that was all I was able to hear. I near stopped in my tracks when I saw a clan of new walkers coming into the scene. They appeared almost like humans, donned in heavy duty guard armor. They didn't act accordingly, though, and slumped towards us. These few were going to be hard to beat. Daryl shot an arrow at one and it bounced off of its mask. It was obvious that fending them all off was going to be a difficult task. Maggie was wrestling one and lifted the front mask of its helmet slightly and thrust her knife up into its chin. This is how we had to do this. We all followed her lead, taking one down after the other.
Slowly but surely, we entered a cell block. The entire place was grossly littered with junk and dead bodies. Oh God, it smelled so vile. I stayed behind the others to keep watch and guard. I watched them explore the entirety of the rundown block cautiously. The others began coming in with their belongings and bags.
"Home, sweet, home," I sighed, gazing around at the concrete walls and bloody floors. No one looked too amused, however, probably due to how disgusting it looked. Yeah, it was going to take a lot of work to clean, but it's safe. For now. I was really nervous about the rest of the prison. Who knows who or what lurked the depths of the halls?
"Gross," was all I could say as I silently gagged, making my way to a cell that hasn't been taken by one of the others yet. The entire cellblock smelled fucking disgusting, which shouldn't be that surprising as the world is literally mobbed with rotting corpses, but this was horrendous. The little cell I chose was also close enough to where Daryl was staying in case I had to endure another scary night episode. I took a look inside and it was quite repulsive. There was an animate body on the ground inside and blood strewn over the walls. Its legs were severely severed, but it outreached its arms in my direction and its jaw began gnashing.
"I got it," Daryl's voice grew near. He poised his bow and shot an arrow through the forehead of the corpse. "I'll help clean." And he did. We spent near half an hour clearing out the cell completely, and I can say that it looked at least a little presentable afterwards. It was good, though, we spent the time talking quietly and joking. He seemed more than happy to be of assistance to me and I appreciated it. Afterwards, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck before sitting down on the lower bunk of my new bed.
"Comfortable," he joked, motioning for me to sit next to him.
"Thanks," I said quietly, "for everything." I kept my voice gentle and reached over and patted his leg. He flinched at first but quickly settled and nodded. I meant what I said, truly. What Daryl has done for me these past months meant the universe to me and more.
"No sweat, sunshine," he chuckled lightly. I reached over and grabbed his hand and held it. My fingers grazed the grooves in his palms and investigated the prints on his fingertips. This was the first time I felt truly comfortable in months. The sounds of gunshots and moaning corpses has finally halted and it was quiet. Peaceful. Daryl let me continue to hold his hand.
"Daryl?" I broke the silence again. I looked up at him and he gazed down at me and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. His features remained soft and curious.
"I…" Oh shit. What the hell was I doing? Somehow I have to make this not awkward as fuck. Hmm. Too far gone now. Out of a sudden shyness, I averted my gaze again, back at his hand in mine. "I wouldn't be here right now without you and…I-I want you to know how grateful I am." I held my breath for seconds and just kept my eyes on our hands, studying the way his fingers fell into mine perfectly. It was very quiet after I finished my last syllable. For a while actually, it was so quiet that the only thing I could hear was the distant shuffling of someone a couple cells over. The silence started to make me nervous. I couldn't do anything but wait in anticipation. And then after a minute, my heart stopped beating momentarily. It appeared that he took what I said well, very well in fact, that he took his other hand and placed a gentle finger under my chin. He led my face up to meet his and he pressed his lips to mine ever so slightly. This kiss was exhausted, but it meant a lot. His hand moved to the side of my head and his fingers curled around the back of my neck. He pulled his face away near just a half an inch from my own and his lips were just grazing mine. His forehead laid against my own. He slid his other hand away from mine and gently placed it above my knee. Slowly, his fingers crept upwards and his rough hand rested on my upper, inner thigh. I felt my body become overwhelmed with a warm feeling. His hot, staggered breath brushed over my skin and sent a wind of bitter chills all over my body. This man was a goddamn tease. It was the way he captivated me, held me under his enthralling, seductive trance. I tugged on his shirt, pleading to have it be taken off and he was extremely hesitant. His hand that was on my face fell to my wrist and grasped it, keeping it still. It scared me, honestly. I pulled my forehead away from his and took a look at his face. He frowned, averting his gaze away from me.
"Sorry," I whispered. I felt embarrassed for myself for pushing it this far, and, honestly, I just wanted to completely disappear off the face of the earth. He remained intensely quiet and distant feeling, even though he was sitting right in front of me. After a while, his grip loosened on my wrist and then he let go all together. He furthered himself away from me a little bit, keeping his line of vision off of me. He held his breath as his hands trailed to the collar of his shirt and his fingers gripped the hem. In a slow motion, he pulled it upwards, slipping it over his head. In the dim light of the cell, his skin glistened with perspiration and his muscles shadowed on his arms and chest. This was the first time I have seen this man in the flesh like this and it was fascinating. Until I saw it. Lines of dark marks adorned many areas on his dirty, tan skin. This must be why he has been acting so resistant this entire time.
"Oh Daryl," I whimpered in the most quiet tone. I never knew that it was this bad. He had told me once or twice that he didn't have the best childhood, but this…this was different. I felt sympathy and instant sadness but he clearly didn't want that. You could tell he regret what he did almost instantly as his face turned to something angry and upset and he instantly moved to reach for his shirt again. I shook my head and grabbed his wrist to get him to stop and he obliged, gradually averting his gaze back to my face.
"Stop," I pleaded gently, noticing the hurt in his eyes. To me, his scars were beautiful. He had to believe that. I tossed his shirt aside and crawled over to him. I had him lay back on the old mattress and I climbed onto his half-bare body. I rested my weight on him and he relaxed quite a bit. I pressed sweet kisses to his collarbone and an odd whimper escaped past his lips, making me smile a little. My hands subconsciously placed themselves on the slightly ridged plain of his abdomen, my fingertips trailing the grooves of his soft skin. I planted the most gentle of kisses down his chest to his ribs. I pressed my lips to the puckered skin of his old, purple scars. This was a special moment for the both of us. This man, a man so enclosed in a shell that seemed so unbreakable, has finally let me in and let me explore something that meant so much to him. It was monumental almost. His scars drew an intricate pattern, and I dragged my finger across them for so many moments and his skin became littered in tiny goose bumps as I did this. I continued to kiss him, his stomach, and lower abdomen. Only did he begin to squirm when I pressed my lips to the spot below his ribs.
"Oh, oh my, is someone ticklish?" I teased, kissing the skin some more.
"I don't think so," he replied, his words growing strained as I continued to play at the spot with my lips and tongue.
"Liar," I giggled. A series of whimpers slipped out of his throat letting me be aware that this was effecting him a great deal. Let me just say, I was very amused. Enjoying every second, I carried on and he was growing restless. "Just admit to it and I'll stop."
"Okay!" his voice shook through the concrete cell. Yes. Sweet victory. I could see the effect of this moment on his skin, the fresh, deep-colored marks replacing the rough kisses I planted on his ribcage. I admired my work, smiling at it.
"Pretty," I complimented, dragging my finger along the spot.
"That's unfair."
"Nope," I laughed, "unfair was when you gave me a huge ass hickey on my neck and everyone thought it was a zombie bite. Embarrassing as hell." He chuckled as his mind clearly skipped back and replayed what happened that one time months ago. "And let us not forget the time when Rick held a meeting and you were clearly undressing me with your eyes, okay, I saw it. CLEARLY," I continued and he only laughed louder, "and Glenn also witnessed your obvious eye-fucking and wouldn't shut up about it for about two weeks."
"Okay…honestly," he sighed, trying to catch his breath from laughing, "you deserved it for being such a tease."
"Oh really? Is that how that works?"
He nodded and laughed at my sarcasm, "but don't lie and say you haven't done it to me either." The sound of his low, bellowing chuckles were comforting and it made me so happy to the point where I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't explain how good I felt, how safe I felt under the protection and watch of this man.
"Oh God, it's hot as hell in here," I whined and sat up on the mattress. I unbuttoned my flannel shirt and pulled it off effortlessly, tossing it on top of Daryl's discarded shirt. I peeked over at him out of the corner of my eye and he was just watching me.
"See? Fucking tease," he joked, his voice seemingly much lower than it previously was.
"Nah. Just…hot…" I whispered, unintentionally seductively. I turned to him and I swear to God, the look on his face immediately turned from a happy look, to an almost flustered, sheepish type of emotion. This was all totally amusing to me.
"Mind helping me?" I questioned and turned back around, my back facing towards him again. I pulled my hair to the side and motioned towards the hooks on my bra. Currently I was uncomfortable in it, yes, but did I really need assistance getting it off? Hell no. But it was fun messing with him. He was entirely hesitant at first but I felt him sit up on the mattress behind me. The tips of his fingers barely grazed my back as he grasped the ends of my undergarment. He swiftly unhooked it and it fell open. I tossed the garment on the ground and turned on my knees, returning myself to him. Kneeling on the mattress, I gestured to him the buckle on my belt. Yeah, I was really doing this. He looked up at me, a flicker of amusement obvious all over his features. He looked at me, hesitant, as if he was questioning if I was serious. I nodded, grinning and held his shoulders as he unbuckled my belt and then unbuttoned my jeans. It was some type of hot mess, the way we wrestled the pants off, I don't think I've ever experienced something more hilarious. He threw them on the ground next to the other discarded clothes with a huff.
"Feels good," I laughed, admiring how free I finally felt. He genuinely laughed too, which was like music to my ears. I finally turned to him and his expression showed that he was initially shocked, but the corners of his lips turned up into a small smile and his eyes themselves washed their vision over my, mostly, bare body. They returned to my face, lightening up as he reached his hand out towards me. His fingers collided gingerly with the side of my head and wrapped around the back of my neck. He pulled my face down, as he laid back on the mattress. And towards him, the rest of my body followed after, lowering onto his. He kissed me and I felt good. Accepted. Safe. He then pressed his lips to my cheekbone and I then nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around my bare torso, one falling just a little bit lower so that his hand could rest on my bare ass cheek.
"Beautiful. As always," he whispered quietly, his words digging much deeper than he intended them to. But it was nice, because for once, I felt it. I felt beautiful and he allowed me to be able to do that.