A/N: Wow, I am so overwhelmed with the positive response this story has gotten and so humbled and thankful. You guys have inspired me to extend this piece, something I had thought of doing but had originally decided against. Your kind words have been truly appreciated.
There will be one more chapter after this one.
Thank you again, to everyone reading, and I hope you enjoy!
It's a sweltering day near the end of June, when Daryl feels Beth first start to notice. He's sure she has in the past; it's kind of hard to ignore the sprawl of his back and the marks that litter it. But that afternoon in bed, she's chitchatting about what they should do for Independence Day, Daryl rolling onto his side in order to sit up. Her words halt at the full view of his back and the feel of her soft, cool fingers dancing over his scars startles him a bit. He restrains himself at first, wanting to lash out. But he can handle harmless touches today.
Her voice is hushed and sounds almost strained. "What hap-"
Daryl can't take it, not now. He's not ready to have this conversation, hell, he probably won't ever be. He wouldn't be able to handle the looks of pity and sympathy in her big, blue eyes. So he turns and grabs her wrist, a bit harshly, making an effort to press his fingertips into her own scars. It makes his point very clear.
"Don't."
And she doesn't. But she does jerk away and slip out from the covers to meander towards the bathroom, making an off-hand comment that she needs to be heading somewhere, so she'll call him later, if it's not too late.
The door shuts and Daryl makes his way to the front door, getting dressed in the process. He spots her name badge on the counter and while he's tempted to just storm out, he pauses as he hears the shower water start to run. Grabbing a pen, he scribbles a 'sorry' on the back of some receipt and hangs it on her fridge with the badge.
Beth keeps her word; it's a little after 11 and normally, Daryl would be fast asleep by now. But his mind has been more than preoccupied the last few months.
They make small talk, well, she mainly does. Daryl's not a big talker so mainly he listens, which is fine by him. Her voice rises and falls in an almost melodic way. It's hypnotic enough that he nearly misses the direct question she asks him.
"How old are you?"
"You don't wanna know." He says it confidently but it's more that he's the one that doesn't want to know her age. It already eats away at him, the guilt of knowing this younger, beautiful woman has been wasting so much time and energy on an old ass like him.
"Well, how old do you think I am?"
"I'unno." She goes on to tell him that she's 22 and okay, it could be worse, he tries to reason. She can legally drink and she's not jailbait. But it sticks out in his mind that when she was born, he was already fascinated by the naked female body.
"Age doesn't matter, anyway. My mama was 15 years younger than my daddy when they got married." This is the first time he's heard her mention her father with a laugh and it makes him smile over the phone too, for more than just one reason.
The Fourth of July marks the first time they are together that isn't at her place, the cemetery, or at Maryann's. It strikes Daryl how backwards this all is, that he already knows what she feels like writhing beneath him and how sweet she tastes, but he can't find the courage to hold her hand in public.
There's a big fest going on in town, it happens every Independence Day weekend; he's never been to it because it's not really his scene. There's a lot of families with little kids and couples showering each other with far too much public affection. But Beth had been insistent and while it took about twenty times asking for Daryl to barely grunt in agreement, he is glad that he did. The look plastered on her face, a grin stretching her cheeks wide and eyes bright in the illumination of ferris wheel lights and sparklers... She's the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.
At first Daryl feels so out of place; he's worried everyone is staring at him, judging him by his clothing or worse, his age. He's not blind to the fact that they don't seem like a logical pair. But the crowds seem oblivious to them and so does she, reaching out for his hand and lacing their fingers together.
Fireworks are exploding overhead as Beth sits stretched out between his legs. Her head's rested back against his chest, completely captivated by the show going on in the sky above. And Daryl's captivated too, by the splashes of red and yellow and blue that dance across her face.
"You're beautiful." The words tumble out of his lips and he's relieved thinking that the booms from above had drown them out. But Beth seemingly caught it, tearing her eyes away from the night sky and turning her head to look him straight on. There's no smile gracing her face and it makes Daryl's stomach twist up into something awful.
"So're you," she whispers, before kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly that he's not sure if it actually happens. He doesn't believe her but he's too content in this moment to argue.
Daryl's not great at figuring these kinds of things out so while he's not sure what exactly their relationship is, he knows it's something. He doesn't ask if she's his girlfriend or if they're just hooking up because how stupid would that make him sound? He just takes what he's given and she seems to be fine with that.
He spends the entire night at her place, finally. It's somewhat awkward because he wakes at 4 in the morning like he normally does, his body so used to getting up that early for work. He knows both of them have the day off so he wants to let her sleep if she can; he watches her a short while, arms curled around her pillow and legs tangled with his own. She almost always sleeps on her stomach and he counts out as her back rises and falls in slow, steady breaths.
Finally the urge to stretch out his bones becomes too much, and he carefully detaches her limbs from his own before slipping on his jeans and wandering out of the bedroom. He hasn't spent too much time looking around her place; if he's honest, 90% of his time here seems to be spent in her bed and he isn't complaining.
There's an upright piano in the corner that has caught his eye before. Piles of loose-leafed sheet music are stacked on it, all scribbles and dots that Daryl can't even begin to understand. There's a framed picture perched there too; Beth, who looks so young and innocent, and Maggie, who he vaguely recognizes from the night the sisters fought in the parking lot. There's a couple that he can only assume are her parents. In the photograph, her dad is balding and fully grey, her mother's hair still full of color and only the first signs of age creeping in around her smiling eyes and cheeks.
"It's not nice to snoop, didn't your mama teach ya that?"
He hadn't heard her get up, too lost in his own mind to have noticed. The smirk on her face lets him know she is only teasing, but there's an immovable weight in his stomach already. He hears her bare feet shuffle across the floor and feels her arms slip around low on his waist. Glancing down at her briefly, he notes that she's thrown on his shirt, messy blonde curls splayed over her shoulders.
"No, she didn't." His voice is flat and he can feel Beth tense behind him, loosening her grip.
"You close with your family?"
"Ain't got none left." There's a pregnant silence and no, not now, he doesn't want to get into this. She knows too much already, based on what she's seen and the few things he's actually told her; she's not a dumb girl but Daryl wishes she would just bite back her curiosity sometimes.
"I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose som-"
"Know what it's like? Girl, you don't even know what y're talkin' about!" It erupts out of him, loud and booming, enough to make her jump a bit. He pulls away, out of her embrace, and stalks over to the other side of the room. "You think my life is just some story I'm gonna tell ya over pillow talk? Like it's a goddamn book or somethin'?"
Her cheeks flame up, in embarrassment or anger, Daryl isn't sure, but he can feel his own face growing hot. His pulse thumps quickly along his throat and it takes an unprecedented amount of self-restraint to keep from throwing something, anything.
"That's not what I was trying to say, Daryl, and you know it!" The conviction in her words takes him by surprise but all it does it spur him on. He's never exploded on her like this; it used to happen regularly in his life but since meeting Beth, there's been a period of unknown calmness. He supposes it makes sense that it wouldn't last; can't teach an old dog new tricks.
"Bullshit! Always pryin' into my life and sticking your nose where it don't belong. I ain't gonna entertain ya with nasty stories about my childhood or family just 'cause y're bored with how perfect everything's been for ya!" He doesn't mean it, not at all, and how he wishes he had the gall to take it all back at the first sight of tears in her eyes. But he's too worked up, too damn proud, and too damn stupid to do anything of the sort.
"I think you need to leave." Beth's doe-like eyes overflow with tears as she circles her fingers around her scarred wrist. Without looking at him again, she storms back into her bedroom and slams the door.
The slam echoes in his ears and he releases his hands that he realizes had been clenched into fists. He should knock on the door and apologize profusely, but the bile he tastes rising in his throat just makes him want fresh air.
With no shirt, he slips on his jacket and boots, closing the door to her apartment loud enough so that she knows she's alone and that he's out of her hair, probably for good at this rate.
He races his bike home and just as the sun starts to peak up from the horizon, shrouded in rain clouds, he lights a cigarette in the alleyway. It does nothing to stop the awful twisting of his stomach and neither does the smily face sticker he spots on the dumpster, blankly beaming at him.
Finally Daryl snaps, throwing his fist into the metal over and over, till the pain in his hand overtakes the churning in his gut. He lets his legs give out beneath him just as the sky begins spitting down upon him.