Chapter 8 - Daryl
While Lauren was taking a shower, I relaxed back on the sofa and I wondered why she had blushed earlier. She had said something to herself and when I called her on it, she made it sound like she was talking about taking the shower, but that just didn't make sense. You don't turn red thinkin' about a shower, unless well …there's more to it. "I may need to check that out," I said with a smile. "I think I just will."
I got up from the sofa to go upstairs, took a step and sat back down. I got up again and sat down again. I was nervous. Shit, girls always made me nervous. "What the fuck?" I'm thinking. I know I'm being a pussy about this, so I decide to walk around the downstairs first. I end up down by the laundry room. I looked at the washer and dryer and looked at what I had on. I knew washing wouldn't help. This was pretty much all I had left, and washing wasn't going to get out the wear and tear and the ground in dirt. I was a sorry sight.
I noticed some shelves in the room that held towels, sheets and other laundry. I took a sheet and brought it out to the dusty sofa. I did my best to try to cover it so we didn't have to deal with the dust. I wonder if Lauren will notice.
Trying not to chicken shit out, I took the stairs up two at a time. Lauren's door to her room was open. I poked my head inside and laughed. It looked like she had taken off her clothes on the way to the shower and dropped them where they fell. "Man, she was naked with the door open and I missed it. Damn, I should have been faster," I kicked myself.
I could hear the shower running, so I slowly walked over to the door. There was no fuckin' way I was going to open that door. The time wasn't right. This was wrong, so wrong. I turned to leave when I heard something coming from inside the bathroom. I put my ear up against the door and prayed that she didn't open it, but since the water was still running I thought I was okay.
It was Lauren, she was crying. I put my hand on the knob. Do I go in or not? "No, don't go in unless she calls out," I said trying to convince myself. "If she's hurt she will let you know, otherwise she's just trying to deal with everything." Be cool, Dixon.
I stayed leaning up against the door jamb until I heard the cries quiet down and the shower finally turn off. I turned to leave not wanting her to catch me in her room. My cheeks felt wet. I hadn't even realized that I was crying and how much her grief affected me. I bolted out of the room and ran down the stairs, wiping at my cheeks. She had lost more than I had. I only had Merle and while he had been a piece of shit, he was my brother. She had probably lost her whole family and a whole lot better life than what she had now. Me…except for the walkers, my life wasn't much different than before the turn.
It was going on forty-five minutes before she showed up downstairs. There was no way I was going to give her a hard time about. I may be a hard assed prick at times, but I knew I had to let this go. I had made good use of the time while I was waiting for her. Searching through the cabinets I found a couple tins of beef stew. I heated them up and we had a hot lunch. Who says Daryl Dixon can't cook!