The prepaid phone in his pocket has been going off his whole shift.
When he's high, Merle likes to send stupid pictures to Daryl.
None of the jokes make him laugh.
They finally stop around four and Daryl can picture his brother passed out in some random chick's bed.
It's become a regular thing, taking their breaks together every time she works the overnight, but now the sun is coming up. The pinkish grey of the sky has seemingly shifted the axis of the earth, he's off the clock and he doesn't know how to talk to her in the daylight. Beth is standing outside by the bottle return, her phone is in her hand and she looks ready to sleep right where she stands.
She gives him a small grin. "I think my sister forgot me."
He thinks about Thanksgiving. "I know the feelin'."
The words come out sounding heavy, heavy enough for her to turn away for a moment.
"I don't wanna call and wake the whole house up this early."
Daryl looks around the mostly empty parking lot, sunbeams are just starting to burn off the fog. "I could give ya a ride. Don't got anywhere to be."
She follows a few steps behind him and blushes when he opens the passenger door.
His truck is neat. Just one empty coffee cup in the console, glasses case on the front seat. He tries not to watch her climb in, tries not to think about her being holed up next to him in the small cab as the engines turns over.
"Where…"
"We could get breakfast, I mean if you want. My treat." Her voice changes when she turns to look out the window.
He snorts out breath and lets his eyes scan her face while he waits for the light to change. "You're always trying to feed me."
He meets her eyes with the edges of his.
"Everyone needs to be taken care of. Even you Daryl." She holds his gaze for second. "Besides, I've been trying to get you to ask me out for the past two weeks."
He doesn't say anything to that. He can't. His mouth has frozen shut and his brain is ticking off a list reasons why this isn't happening. All the shit happening with his brother, the dose of Narcan he carries around just in case. The crappy apartment and life that he's just barely holding together. He glances down at the fraying sleeve of his flannel jacket, eyes stuck on the ugly pattern, the straggling strings pulling away from the worn fabric.
"Let's go to West Gate. The diner on Main?"
"A'right." He swallows down the lump in his throat, "You ain't paying for me though."
She looks a little disappointed and he can hardly stand to think why. He can't stand to let her stay that way either.
"Can't have you be the one payin'. 'Specially if it's a date" He shakes his head as the last part tumbles, mumbled, out of his mouth.
Her smile makes his face burn.