I'd never woken up and felt so alone.

Turning over in my sleep, I expected to find Daryl peacefully sleeping beside me. What I found was the back of the couch. I'd been covered up by one of the blankets, but I was still alone. Before moving, I listened to see if someone was in my bathroom, or my kitchen, but the silence of the apartment told me that Daryl was long gone. There was an ache in my chest that I couldn't keep at bay. Had he really just left me here without saying goodbye?

I flipped over to face out into the dark, quiet apartment and reached over to turn on a lamp on a nearby end table. The clock said it was a little past nine at night so I quickly did a bit of math. I'd gotten home between 6:30 and 7:00, and soon after that Daryl and I were...on the couch. Honestly I didn't know what to call what we had done. 'Making love' didn't seem right, but neither did 'fucking' or the like. I was about to get up and go to my room when I noticed a glass of sweet tea that wasn't there before I fell asleep. Sitting up on the couch, I saw there was a note from Daryl, explaining he'd had to leave but he'd try to come back.

The pain of abandonment I'd felt quick receded. Deep down, I wanted to slap myself for doubting Daryl in the first place. Regardless of our...status, he'd been good to me. He didn't deserve to be thought of in any kind of negative light, at least from what I had seen of him. Granted, what had transpired a few hours before wasn't exactly a great thing, but I had yet to hear Daryl's side of the story so I tried to refrain from passing ignorant judgements. Plus, in all honesty, I had no right to be jealous or upset over anything or anyone Daryl did. We weren't exclusive as far as I knew. We hadn't even spoken about the first time we'd wound up in bed together and it had happened yet again. There was too much going on that wasn't being explained, way more than I had imagined happening. It was throwing me for a major loop.

Rising from the couch, I walked into my room so I could shower. I had fallen asleep so quickly after we'd finished, plus I had been off riding my bike before I got home. I laughed a little to myself when I realized I'd gotten double the cardio workout that day. It wasn't a joke that I'd usually make, but it was every bit as true as much as it was funny. Once I was fully undressed, I turned the water on and got in after waiting for the water to warm. As I rubbed the honeysuckle body wash into my skin, I imagined what it would be like if Daryl's hands had replaced mine. I wondered what it would feel like for him to caress me gently, dragging his fingers over my dripping skin. Within minutes I had my eyes closed as I rubbed my breasts with the same imagination.

Even fantasizing about Daryl was different. Just thinking about his rough, calloused hands on my soft, supple skin was enough to drive me crazy. The more I imagined, the further my hands traveled down my body. I remembered his lips on mine, his teeth taking hold of my neck and shoulders. As the water cascaded over my body, I could feel the individual drops that fell on those swollen and bruised patches of flesh, bringing back fleeting moments of passion. My hand finally stopped once it was right where I wanted it. As I continued to daydream about Daryl, I began to gently rub the most sensitive spot on my entire body. With one hand working between my legs, and the other grasping at my breasts, I leaned back against the shower wall as I let the water run over me.

I rarely pleasured myself at all, but I just couldn't stop myself. The ghost sensations of his tongue, his skin, his lips, everything was so much more thrilling and exciting. I'd never touched myself to thoughts of a specific person before, never really having anything too stimulating to work with. But Daryl...he was something else. He was older and experienced, which definitely showed. Sex with him was just so carnal and raw, unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. The way he played my body was as if I were a grand piano and he was Bach, or Mozart, a sinful virtuoso that had aroused parts of me I didn't even know I had. My fingers became his the closer I came to the edge. It was as if I could hear his now familiar drawl resonating in my ears. I could almost feel his ragged breaths on my neck as they were ripped from his chest. The teeth biting on my bottom lip were his as my fingers moved faster and lighter, bringing me over the edge into bliss.

My knees grew weaker and caused me to sit on the floor of my shower as I lathered my hair. All over, my body was tingling like it was carrying some sort of electric charge. My muscles were relaxing and contracting and my skin flushed from the mix of playing with myself and the unrelenting hot water. It took a while before my heart settled back into it's regular rhythm and for my lungs to relearn how to breathe properly. My body responded to Daryl like I'd never seen before and it was the most amazing thing. All throughout high school I had to listen to my friends as they attempted to describe what I was currently feeling, but none of their words came even relatively close to the sensations that had overpowered me. Secretly I hoped I'd get to experience more, which caused a playful grin to appear on my lips.

I was shaken from my reverie by a loud banging on my door. Thinking it was Daryl, I left the shower, turned it off, and I threw on my white, fluffy terry cloth robe. Even in the short amount of time it took me to cross my apartment, the harsh knocking never ceased. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" I yelled with a laugh as I quickened my pace. "Someone's in a hurry to get back-"

The sight before me was not one that I had expected. When I opened the door, my smile quickly faded as I came face-to-face with my least favorite Dixon brother. He reeked of booze and cheap perfume, mixed with God only knew what. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was wild. "Merle, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to pull my robe so that less of my skin was exposed. I didn't like the way he looked at me fully clothed and I was in no mood to be gawked at in my current state. I closed the door so a crack remained, keeping my head in view. "Something I can help you with?"

"I need'a ride, Barbie" Merle said, his voice rough and gravely. I could tell he was beyond inebriated by the slurring in his speech. However, when I looked into his eyes, they had a familiar look to them. They were the same look Daryl's had when I'd confront him earlier, fear. When he spoke again, his voice shook me from my thoughts. "I'm serious. I'm too drunk n' high ta drive and I need yer help."

"What for, Dixon?" I asked, my tone harsh and unyielding. From what Daryl had told me about Merle, I knew his call for help could be a wolf cry. Not that I didn't want to believe him, but the thought of sharing my car with the older Dixon brother for any period of time was incredibly unappealing. "What's so important? Run out of booze again? Get Daryl to take you when he gets home."

I was closing the door when a boot stopped it at a crack. "I'm not kiddin' blondie" he spoke through the crack. As I threw the door back open, not caring if Merle Dixon saw me in my robe, I couldn't help but be cross with him.

"What?!" I shouted, my patience already at it's thinnest. "What's so damn important?!"

"I need'ya ta take me to the hospital" he replied, his face vacant of any of his usual mockery. "It's Daryl..."