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Hello lovelies! I'm so sorry that this took so long to post. I think this story was last updated in 2014...oops. I got super busy with life for awhile and, to be honest, I forgot about this story entirely. I know a lot has happened in The Walking Dead since this story was last updated, but we're just going to ignore that for the sake of the story. :P I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and if you have any feedback, please send it in as a review! I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible.
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The next morning brought rain, and lots of it.
Beth opened her eyes to the sound of the rain pounding against the roof and bouncing off the windows; the wind outside had only gained strength while she slept, and it whistled noisily through the window that she had left open overnight. She frowned, stretching and slowly sitting up, lifting her hands to rub at her eyes drowsily. Her entire body felt stiff, suggesting that she had slept oddly; having woken up in exactly the same way she had gone to bed, she couldn't imagine what she had done in her sleep to make her body so sore.
Rising slowly from the bed, she made her way over to the window and peered out past the curtain. The sky was practically black with thick storm clouds, and some of the skinnier trees were bent double in the wind; she reached up to grab the top of the window, sliding it shut. The resulting silence was deafening. Sighing very softly, she turned back to the bed, expecting to see Daryl still asleep on his side of the bed - but it was empty.
She felt a flare of panic, her eyes quickly scanning the place near his pillow for his crossbow, but there was no sign of any of the man's weapons. Had he left during the night? Had their fight affected him that much? She felt a lump form in her throat as she rushed to the small barrier they had made out of the furniture in the room, clambering over it hastily and hurrying down the hall, checking the rooms as she passed them, but Daryl was nowhere to be seen.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Beth turned and ran back down the hall, and when she reached the front door, she reached to pull it open - just as it swung inwards. She slid to a halt, staggering back a few steps as a very wet, windswept Daryl struggled back inside, before shovering the door shut and flipping the lock. He turned around a moment later, his crossbow slung across his back and two squirrels and a rabbit dangling at his side, and when he saw her standing there - shaking and in her sock feet - he frowned.
"Mornin'." he said gruffly, looking a bit confused; she laughed faintly, letting out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding.
"You're drenched." she told him, although she was quite certain that he knew this. The only thing keeping her from throwing herself at him was the fact that he was soaking wet, and the fact that she didn't really know if he was still upset from their fight the night before.
"Stormin' out. But I got some food for later." he replied, lifting the dead animals slightly, as though she hadn't noticed them already. She nodded vaguely, not really looking at the carcasses in his hand. The relief flooding through her body made her feel as though she was floating.
"I'll get you a towel to dry off with." she murmured; no way was he sitting on the only bed they had, as drenched as he was!
She took her time getting the towel she had promised, finding a stack of them in a cupboard mounted on the wall above the washer and dryer in the hallway. She used that time to calm herself, and when she returned to the kitchen, she offered him a tentative smile as she offered him the towel. He set the animals on the counter, taking the towel and wiping his face dry, before ruffling his hair in an attempt to soak up some of the water drenching that, too. Really, the downpour had helped him some; he looked a bit cleaner!
"Car won't start. And the one left here is outta gas." he informed her, setting the towel down on the counter as he peeled his vest off. It was dripping, but at least the angel wings looked a little whiter, more like their original shade.
"Storm won't last for long. We can stay here until it passes." she said with a shrug, eyeing him as he hung the vest off the doorknob of the front door. The rest of his clothing was soaking wet too, but he removed only his boots, pushing them off to the side before grabbing the towel and slinging it back over his shoulder. She stepped out of his way as he snatched up the rabbit and both squirrels, watching as he made his way back into the living room; but instead of heading for the bed, he made his way to the other side of the coffee table, spread the towel on the floor, and settled himself down cross-legged on top of it.
Beth quietly climbed back over the barricade, hovering at the edge of the room before moving to the bed and gathering up one of the hand-knit blankets they had been using over the past couple of days; then she made her way over to where he was sitting, and cautiously placed the blanket around his shoulders. He jumped slightly when she touched him, but did not move, other than to look at her with a scowl, although he didn't look angry - more so confused than anything. She tugged the blanket around him, leaving his hands free, before circling around to his front and settling down onto the floor opposite where he was sitting.
"What?" he asked, glowering at her as she simply sat and looked at him. He had set one of the squirrels and the rabbit aside, and had the second squirrel on his lap and his knife in his hand; obviously set to skin the creature.
"I'm sorry we were fightin'." she said quietly; she didn't want to bring up the matter, but she felt she ought to at least apologize for yelling at him. His expression shifted the tiniest amount, and for a moment, one corner of his mouth twitched - as though he had been about to smile.
"Sorry for shoutin' at ya." he muttered gruffly, before lowering his gaze back to the animal in his hands. She gritted her teeth as he began the process with a small cut just under the squirrel's tail, but she didn't look away this time. Instead, she scooted a bit closer to him; he paused and glanced up at her, frowning again.
"Go on. I'm just gonna watch. Maybe learn a thing or two." she insisted; he frowned more deeply, but lowered his gaze back to the squirrel, and continued.
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Two hours later found Beth lying on the bed on her back, staring up at the ceiling; she could hear Daryl shuffling around in the kitchen, although she wasn't really sure what he was doing. She had heard the cupboard doors opening and closing a few times, so she guessed he was trying to figure out the little camping stove - it was far too wet outside to even think about using the fire to cook their food. It was hard to tell the time, what with the thick cloud cover; it had been dark all day. Still, her body seemed to think that it was starting to get late, and they were both hungry, so supper time it was.
"You thirsty?" Daryl called from the kitchen; she turned her head to look out to where he was standing, but he had his back to her, and she couldn't see what he was doing. She crossed her arms behind her head, frowning faintly as she studied him. His clothes were still damp, but his hair had dried long ago into tangled waves around his face; he even had a bit of a scruffy beard growing in, though she couldn't see that from where she was laying.
"Yeah." she replied finally, deciding that a glass of water couldn't hurt. They had set pots and pans outside on the doorstep earlier to collect as much of the rain water as they could.
She turned her head back towards the window, although there wasn't much to see there; all of the curtains were closed to prevent any light inside from leaking outside. She sat up slowly, lifting one hand to comb her fingers through her hair, which she had left loose for the day. The sound of Daryl's footsteps brought her attention back to the man, and she turned to see him already in the living room and approaching the bed with two glasses, one in each hand. But the liquid inside wasn't water; her gaze slipped past him to see the liquor bottle sitting on the counter. He remained standing, leaning across the bed to offer her one of the cups, and after a brief pause, she reached out to take it - although she didn't drink from it.
"I ain't leavin' a good bottle like that. Go on, it's good." he coaxed her, but still, she hesitated. She had never really had alcohol, aside from a sip of her father's when she was younger - although she had suspected that was meant only to discourage her from alcohol. Wrinkling her nose, she tentatively took a sip from the glass, and immediately regretted it; it burned as she swallowed it down, and she grimaced. Daryl snickered at the look on her face and took a drink from his own cup.
"What?" she snapped, defensive. He merely shook his head and turned away from her, heading back into the kitchen; she watched as he placed the cap back on the bottle and placed it back beneath the counter, before finishing off his drink and placing his empty glass in the sink.
"First time drinkin'?" he asked, failing to sound nonchalant; he sounded vaguely amused, as though the fact confirmed something. She scowled, not appreciating being treated like a child.
"Daddy wouldn't let me drink. Said it was a bad habit." she replied curtly.
"He ain't wrong." Daryl said, glancing at her over his shoulder. His gaze flickered briefly to the glass she clutched in both hands, as though he was wondering if she was going to finish the drink; narrowing her eyes at him, Beth quickly downed the remaining liquor. He hadn't given her much, thankfully - it seared her throat on the way down, and left her stomach feeling oddly warm. The man chuckled as she set the glass down on the table, flopped onto her back, and rolled away from him.
She counted the minutes as they ticked past, while he cooked dinner; he had muttered something about adding chunks of meat to soup, but she hadn't questioned him on it. At this point, all she cared about was filling their stomachs - it didn't really matter to her if it tasted good or not. By the time she heard him pouring the food into bowls, more than five minutes had passed by; she had lost track after that. She sat up as he came back into the room, carrying two bowls filled with thick soup; he paused at the edge of the bed to hold one out to her - which she took from him promptly - before he settled down onto his side of the bed. She had covered it with towels earlier in the hopes that once he dried a bit, he could sit up there again. The floor was about the least comfortable place in the house, naturally.
"I never understood why people drink that stuff. It's gross." she said, with a quiet laugh; she lifted her spoon, studying the mixture in her bowl. He had shown her how to skin a squirrel earlier, as well as how to remove all the bits that people usually don't want to eat. Then he had gone off to make a meal with the meat. By the smell of the soup, she guessed it was cream of mushroom with the squirrel meat tossed in. Tentatively, she lifted a spoonful to her mouth, and was surprised to find that it actually tasted quite good.
"To forget." he said gruffly. She was startled; she hadn't really expected a response. Turning, she studied the man sitting at her side; yes, he likely had a lot of things that would be better forgotten. What did she have?
Well, there were her two ex-boyfriends - that seemed a good enough start. Her mother, too, and her father. Lil Asskicker as well, and the others, if Daryl was to be believed. There was no way they had all gotten out either way...so who should she mourn, not knowing who had made it out alive? All of them, she supposed, until proven otherwise. Then there were all of her friends from before, her teachers, the members of her church; and so many others. She slowly released her hold on the spoon, suddenly not very hungry. He seemed to pick up on her sudden shift in mood, because his gaze quickly flickered towards her, and then back to his food - as though worried she was about to have another breakdown.
Leaning forwards, Beth set her barely touched bowl of soup on the coffee table, rising from the bed; she reached to pick up her knife and clip it to her belt, out of instinct more than anything else, and then picked up the flashlight.
"Get the bottle, and some smaller glasses." she instructed him.
"...Why?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he struggled to figure out the sudden shift in her demeanor. Still, he leaned forwards to set his bowl on the table as well, standing up only moments after she had.
"You're gonna teach me how to forget, and I'm gonna teach you how to have fun." she told him; he snorted, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'good luck', but she ignored him, slipping past him and heading out of the living room. She could feel his eyes on her back as she vanished down the dark hall.
When she returned, with the box she had gone in search of in her hands, she found Daryl sitting in the living room with the bottle of liquor they had already started, as well as another she hadn't known was even in the house. He didn't have a single glass with him - just the bottles. He looked up as he finished off his soup, and frowned when he saw the box she was carrying.
"What the hell is that?" he asked.
"This is Twister, and we're gonna play it." she said sternly.
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Beth giggled as she ducked beneath Daryl, stretching as far as she could to touch her fingertips to the nearest red circle on the mat they were playing on. She had spent a good half an hour convincing the man to play the game with her; by the time he had finally agreed to it, he had already drank a remarkable amount of what he had confirmed to be whiskey, and she suspected he had only been a relatively good sport about it because he was intoxicated. Even so, it was difficult to tell that he was drunk, or something close to it; the only thing that really changed was that he was a little friendlier. She wondered, briefly, if he was only humoring her to keep her mind off of things, and then decided that she didn't care - as long as he continued to do it.
"What now?" he asked, sounding bored, although she knew he wasn't; he had been laughing at her a few turns ago when she had twisted herself practically into a pretzel. She lifted one hand from the mat for a moment to spin the little arm on the board nearby, and it landed on the blue circle under the left hand image.
"Left hand, blue." she told him, before placing her hand back on the mat. Her head felt strangely light, and she was a little dizzy; although she had never lost at this game as a child, she could feel her legs wobbling as she struggled to keep her balance. Her left foot was on a yellow circle, her right on a red circle - her left hand was on a green circle, and her right also on red. Daryl was a bit more twisted than she was, with both feet on green circles, one hand on a red circle; he was arched over her in a bizarre fashion that sort of reminded her of a bridge. This thought, coupled with the sight of seeing him struggle to bend himself into a position that would allow him to put his hand on one of the big blue circles, had her near tears from laughter - although she supposed the alcohol helped as well! Still, it was her amusement that lost her the game; she found herself on her back on the floor a few moments later without really knowing how she had gotten there.
"Did I win?" he asked, pausing to look at her. She relaxed back against the floor, giggling, and nodded; seeming secretly pleased, he flopped down onto the floor next to her.
"Daryl Dixon! Are you havin' fun?" she said accusingly, grinning up at him. He looked over at her, instantly scowling, but she couldn't take him seriously; snickering, she rolled over and snuggled up against his side, even though she felt him automatically tense at the contact. He was warm, although his clothes were still damp from the rain - she frowned, plucking at his shirt idly.
"What're you doin'?" he inquired; his voice sounded careful, as though he was controlling the tone of it. She blinked slowly as she tipped her head back to look at him; she had thought the relief of seeing him had been like floating on a cloud, but this is what that really was like. Still, she couldn't seem to follow one train of thought for very long, which frustrated her a bit - but she quickly forgot about that, too.
"Why are you wearin' wet clothes? You'll catch a cold." she told him. He took ahold of her hand, gently moving it away from his chest, but she quickly laced her fingers through his, keeping him from pulling away.
"No other clothes." he reminded her. She frowned up at him, finding it difficult to focus on his face; it looked like he was moving, but maybe that was her.
"You should buy some." she said, confused. He chuckled, and it was then that she realized that he was in the process of getting up, and it was indeed he who had been moving; he was leaning over her, looking down at her as he struggled to get up from the floor with one of his hands trapped in her grasp.
"I'll get right on that." he promised. Beth frowned; did he mean he was going to go right now? She lifted her free hand to grab a fistful of his shirt, grasping the bottom of it near his hip and dragging him back down. He grumbled as she latched onto him, refusing to let him leave.
"You can't go now. Go later." she protested. He dropped down next to her, although he had to bend over her to keep his balance, placing one hand flat against the mat near her head so that he was looking straight down at her. She smiled up at him, releasing his hand, lifting her own to push his hair back from his face, tucking it behind one of his ears. He frowned at the gesture, but made no attempt to stop her.
"You should get to bed. I'll help you, come on." he said gruffly, before sliding one arm under her back, propping her up. She giggled, slinging one arm around his neck as he helped her stand; she leaned into him, pressing her face into his chest and closing her eyes. The world had spun when he pulled her upright, and, not for the first time, she was glad to have him there. After a few minutes, she stood up straighter, although she continued to lean against his side as he guided her over to the bed, one of his arms wrapped around her waist.
When they finally reached the futon, he gently released her, but she kept her hold on him; stretching up on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his cheek in a lingering kiss, mumbling her thanks. However, when she went to take a step back, he caught her by the hip, stopping her. Bewildered, she looked up at him, but his eyes did not meet her gaze; instead, they roamed over her face, pausing only at her lips for a brief moment. It took only that pause for her mind to clear - at least enough to register the way he had leaned in a bit towards her.
"Daryl?" she mumbled, watching him. He was meeting her gaze now - holding it without issue. She could hear her heart beating frantically in her chest, and wondered if her shock was visible on her face; he seemed quite calm in comparison.
"Shh." he hushed her, his grip on her hip tightening by the slightest amount. She tilted her head back a bit as he leaned in a little closer, his free hand rising, his fingers moving through her loose blonde hair, the palm of his hand cupping her cheek. The floating sensation had vanished, but the feeling of breathlessness that had filled her was considerably better, in her opinion!
When his lips finally met hers, she felt as though all the air in her lungs had simply vanished, and her heart actually sputtered in her chest. She felt unsteady, and she couldn't tell if that was an effect from the kiss or the alcohol in her system; nevertheless, she used it as an excuse to lean against him, lifting her other arm to wrap it around his neck. But she didn't get the chance to - all too quickly, he had broken off the kiss and stumbled back a step, releasing his hold on her and breaking her hold on him.
"Wha-" she said, startled; but he was already turning away from her, scowling as though he was angry with her.
"Go to sleep." he snapped, shuffling away from her. She frowned, but said nothing; his kiss still lingered on her lips, and she lifted one hand to lightly touch two fingers to them. With a soft sigh, she sank onto the bed, secretly grateful for its support - the world continued to spin, but she ignored it as she fell back onto her pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.