Louie stared at the ceiling of the tent wondering if the past hour had just happened. Did she really just sleep with him? Did he really sleep with her? It was hot, no doubt in her mind. They both enjoyed it immensely but the context almost seemed wrong. The last time they had a fight he ended up kissing her. This time they ended up sleeping together. Next, they'll end up with a baby. The context seemed wrong, especially in a time where they both were feeling vulnerable but beggars can't be choosers. Who knows when the next time they'd get a chance to have sex again? Sex. She never realized how much she missed it even though she was getting it forcibly almost a month ago. But that was different. She missed actually having sex. All these thoughts swam through her mind as her eyes were widely trained straight ahead. She turned her eyes without moving her head and saw Daryl sitting half up fussing over himself still.

"I can't believe you bit me," he muttered trying to examine his bicep but unable to see fully.

"I said I was sorry," she said meekly, her nose wrinkling apologetically. "Heat of the moment?"

"Yeah maybe a lil' too much," he grumbled.

"You weren't complaining before," she tried to keep herself from smiling as she turned over on her belly to look at him. He dropped his arm and stared back at her silently before running his hand through her hair like a pet. She traced her palm over his stomach gliding over his sternum before placing a kiss over his naval which he would never admit, but caused his stomach to turn.

"I think you could use another tattoo," she smirked at him and he raised an eyebrow.

"We can't find Lori,"

"At least give me a day," Louie groaned to herself as she lifted her head. It was dark out now and Daryl was outside kindling the fire for their dinner. He had caught a few squirrels within mere feet of their tent without blinking an eye. Of course Louie stayed in the tent, still naked tucked in the blanket after inking the man she had slept with. The evening felt so surreal. That morning everything was fine, the afternoon brought death, and the evening brought passion. Louie had sat in her underwear straddling the naked man (who only adorned a blanket) on his pelvis and was hunched over his abdomen, tattooing his ribs with a sewing needle and pen she had cracked in the glow of the setting sun. It was simple.

M.L

"Shoulda done that pictur'a you on that bike," he smirked; wincing when she poked a little too hard.

"I didn't do that smartass," she mumbled, sitting up to brush her hair out of her face. "But I guess I'll always find myself on the back of a motorcycle, no matter where I am."

Daryl looked at the woman sitting half naked on his body through half-lidded eyes and let his eyes roam, feeling incredibly lustrous.

"You ever gonna tell me?" he said running a hand down the sides of her thigh. She rolled her eyes and leaned back down to continue prick small black dots in his skin to make one big picture. "Glenn told us he was crazy 'bout you,"

"He was," she muttered. "Crazy, that is."

"Excuse me? Miss?"

Louie looked up through a curtain of her hair due to the chilling wind that was tossing her mane around.

"You dropped this," he flashed her a crooked grin, not displaying any teeth but his deep laugh lines etched into the flesh of his face. Louie glanced down at his hand and saw that he had her keys in his open palm. She quickly snatched them trying not to make skin contact and when she looked at him he never batted an eye.

"Thanks," she said briskly before continuing her walk to University of Michigan's library. A few hours later, when she emerged from the cocoon of learning, she couldn't help but notice that amongst other random loiterers, the same man that had found her keys was lingering outside idly, leaning against a stone wall not as if he were waiting for someone but as if he belonged there; attached to the wall as a permanent fixture. Though it was a dreary day and almost the entire city of Detroit looked like a funeral, he caught her attention in his omniscient attire; his long skeletal legs clung to his black jeans and his black jacket hanging off his sinewy frame. The clothes he wore matched his moppy hair that framed his face and slanted eyes. His full pink lips contrasted with his pale face and black hair.

She allowed herself to look at him for a second while she passed him and his eyes followed her and when he nodded to her politely, she turned away.

Two days later, she rounded the street to return to the library to work on an analysis paper that was due in a few days. That day changed her life.

"Do you come here often?"

It was him. He had the same crooked grin and with his joking tone he still was an intimidating figure. Louie didn't bother to stop but kept walking and he matched her pace.

"I didn't drop anything did I?" she quipped.

"I- need to talk to you," he finally said, his deep voice stopping her. She looked at him quizzically and suspiciously.

"Do I know you?" she asked tentatively. He only stared at her with his intense stare, jaw locked, breathing steadily. "I… should be going," Louie said nervously and started to move towards the library. She was relieved he didn't follow her this time. But when she exited the building he was leaning against the same stone wall, this time cigarette poised in his mouth, smoke flooding out in creamy clouds. Though she saw him and knew he saw her, she walked with purpose straight past him.

"You dropped this."

She spun around and saw his open palm inches away from her face, her keys resting treacherously.

"You pinched it from me," she said quietly before gingerly taking the keys. The corner of his lips turned.

"Very good." He walked past her and turned his head slightly to give her a sharp nod implying that she should follow. She did.

"Why are we here?" Louie asked him when they finally arrived to the infamous mural alley that connected two parallel streets of Detroit. A few tourists a few yards down were observing a spray painting and taking pictures. The man leaned against a wall where a picture of the world exploding was blooming into roses. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked at her almost adoringly for a few moments.

"Because," he started. "I want you to know that my art was born from the moment I saw you," he finally said in deep, distant voice. Louie's face fell into confusion and disbelief.

"You're an artist?" she asked incredulously.

"I am now," he bowed his head. She was silent in trying to figure out what his motive was. She stared at the work that he was leaning against. He hadn't just picked any random piece; that was his.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. He lifted his eyes without disturbing his head and smirked, staring at her like a wolf. He finally lifted his head and gave a romantic sigh.

"Your support, advice, dreams, thoughts, companionship and good graces," he ticked off his imaginary list with a goofy smile. She didn't look pleased and looked skeptically around her for the quickest escape route.

"Do you trust me?"

"I don't know you."

"Would you like to?"

She stared at his open hand and then his hardened face. Without breaking the stare, she took his hand and he led her away from the alley and down a few streets until they reached an empty parking lot. They crossed the lot and walked up to an abandoned warehouse that had an eerie and haunted façade. Louie immediately halted once the man showed intention of entering.

"I would never hurt you."

When the two entered the warehouse hand in hand, Louie's face fell into shock. There must have been hundreds of people dressed in leather jackets and torn clothes, spikes, black boots and adorning a very grunge art look. When a few people caught sight of the man she was lacing fingers with, they cheered. Soon everyone was cheering at his presence. Louie looked at his face as he scanned the party authoritatively. He didn't smile but had a royal air to his way. He led her to the back of the warehouse which ended up being the front of the party where a group of people were seated in armchairs and sofas. Louie was amazed at the carefree youths drinking out of champagne bottles and lighting sparkler fireworks. Unfamiliar music was blaring, giving most of the people an excuse to dance.

"Christopher, looks you finally got your mind off that muse of yours," a white haired girl smirked at the pair, holding a tall flute glass of champagne in her fingers aristocratically. The people seated on the cushioned seats were obviously the elite of the entire place. Louie looked at the man who's hand she was holding realizing that she had just learned his name. Christopher didn't say anything but his grin widened.

"No," the platinum haired girl's face fell into disbelief. She stared at Louie with shock and didn't look away. Louie felt self-conscious at her scrutiny.

"Fey, you're making my guest uncomfortable," he drawled in a whimsical tone, unlocked their fingers and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her to a couch unoccupied and secluded. Louie didn't let his proximity go unnoticed when they seated. He allowed her to look at her surroundings in awe and amazement.

"This is my world," he said lowly facing her, his arm draped across the back of the couch. Though she was still observing the dynamics of the chaos, she could feel him staring at her intently.

"You still haven't told me what you wanted from me," she turned her face to meet him nose to nose. She found her eyes involuntarily becoming half-lidded.

"You don't get it," he whispered. "I surrender myself to you."

From then on, his admirers called her the Mary Magdalene of Detroit. She was always with him, wherever he went standing stoically and piercingly behind him. But both knew that he abdicated his entirety to her. He belonged to her completely. He was her slave. In his moments of madness when she left him in their uncommon fights, he painted his most brilliant piece that was to stand against the grain of time.

Daryl asked her if she loved him. She said she did. But she also said that none of that mattered now. Daryl, placed one hand on her head and raked his fingers through her hair as she continued to prick his skin. She paused briefly to look up at him, giving him a cheeky smile. He returned it by pulling her forward for a brief kiss before she continued her artwork.

Now Carol was haunting their heaven bringing reality of hell to their doorstep.

"And the others aren't back yet either," she panted. Louie sat up. Others? Who left? If Lori had left it would be because Carl or Rick was gone. Jesus.

"That dumb bitch musta' gone off lookin' for 'em," she heard Daryl mutter. Louie frowned. He knew? How could he know and not have done anything? Louie's thoughts were verbalized when Carol asked, "What?"

"Yeah, she asked me to go. Told 'er I was done bein' an errand boy."

Louie's heart stopped. He didn't say that, she breathed.

"And you didn't say anything?" Carol asked incredulously. There was no response. Suddenly Carol's footsteps were passing the tent until it stopped in front of the entrance. The women locked eyes. Carol looked in shock at Louie's appearance, clad in only a blanket. Louie tried to convey that she had no idea about his treachery but remained speechless like a deer caught in the headlights. Carol mustered courage and stomped back to Daryl.

"Don't do this," she pleaded. "Please? I've already lost my girl."

Louie's jaw dropped. She got on her knees to start dressing so she could give Carol a piece of her mind. How was she still trying to weasel her way into Daryl's life? She stopped at the sound of Daryl's defiance.

"And that wasn't my problem, neither," he spat. Louie didn't have time to feign sleep as Daryl entered their tent looking livid. He froze when he saw that the girl he had slept with was no longer asleep. He clenched his jaw and looked away, his sight on Carol still lingering around the camp.

"Why doesn't she fuckin' get it?" he growled and left the tent once more before Louie could get in a word. "What're you doin'?" he demanded, catching her off guard looking at his squirrel display. Louie watched from the window in the glow of the fire.

"Keepin' an eye on you."

"Ain't you a peach," he muttered.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away. You've earned your place."

"If you spent half yer time mindin' yer daughter's business than stickin' yer nose in errybody else's, she'd still be alive!"

"Go ahead."

"Go ahead n' what?"

Silence.

"Man, just go! I don't wantchu' here! You're a real piece of work lady. What're you gonna make this 'bout my daddy or some crap like that? You don't know jack. Yer afraid. Yer afraid 'cuz yer all alone! Got no husband. No daughter. You don't know what to do with yerself. You ain't my problem! Sophia wasn't mine! WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST KEEP AN EYE ON HER!"

Tears poured from Louie's face as she heard Daryl rant. He revealed things he never told her. He reveled in his feelings to this woman even through anger. Daryl couldn't pick Louie without it killing him. She sobbed silently into her hand, watching Carol turn and him retreat back into their tent. He was breathing heavily and looked at her wildly.

"You monster," she gasped.

It happened within a second. His palm swung down and struck her cheek causing her to crash in momentum to the ground. Her shriek and the sound of the slap were the only two congruent sounds. She remained on the ground looking at the floor as they both tried to make sense of what happened.

"Baby-"

"Don't touch me," she said frigidly standing up.

"Lou I didn't-"

She tore out of the tent without her shoes and sprinted towards the house. She could feel her feet pressing into the earth's sharp stones and twigs but didn't stop until she reached the lights. She ripped through the living room where Andrea, Dale, Lori, Carol, Carl and Shane were sitting. They all stood up as she froze in the foyer looking like a madwoman.

"What happened to you?" Lori gasped approaching her. It appeared as if her disappearance wasn't a mystery anymore. Her cheek was starting to swell and a sharp pink imprint was left for everyone to see. Louie only stared at Carol with hard eyes.

"I ran into the door," she said flatly. Carol looked regretful and nervous. Everyone knew it was a lie. Nobody did anything more.