The second I laid eyes on him, I saw red...

"Get the hell away from me, Dixon" I hissed as I attempted to slam my front door shut. Just seeing him outside my door in his torn and bloody clothes felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly, like he was rubbing salt and every other abrasive construct into my already throbbing wounds. As I had just finally stopped crying and gained my resolve, of course Daryl Dixon had to be waiting at my door. It was like the world was out to get me that night, and it wasn't going to stop until I was a broken mess crying in the corner of my apartment. However, before I could actually close it, he jutted his foot into the crack between the door and the frame, his black leather biker boots preventing my escape. I looked up at him with disdain. "I mean it, Daryl. Leave me alone."

"I ain't leavin' 'til you hear me out" he replied, placing his hand in the crack of the door. He knew I'd never slam the door and cause him physical pain, and I hated him for it in that brief moment it took me to open the door to allow him inside. The second I did, a small smile came to his lips as he strolled inside and went directly for my couch, patting the seat next to him. The last thing I wanted was such close, direct contact with the man who was causing me so much pain, so I sat directly across from him atop my coffee table instead.

"What can this 'townie cunt' do for you today" I spat vehemently. "Came by so I can hit my knees this time?" I hated speaking like that, but my anger won out in the end. I couldn't control my tongue, not then. There was no way to be ladylike with everything he'd said about me. There was too much pain, too much regret and guilt. My mind couldn't function due to my heart and its pain manually overriding my entire system. I could feel my heartbeat in my head as I held back my tears. When I finally looked up, that same painful expression was staring back at me like it had done so many other times.

"Stop it, Beth" Daryl said strongly as he sat up straighter on the sofa. The bright green of his cast contrasted against the dark black color of the cushions as he propped himself up, obviously still in pain from his accident. "Just stop and let me explain."

That was the last straw. I stood up and moved away from him, no longer able to hold back the salty streams that had gathered behind my eyes. I stood quickly from the couch and looked down at him, my hands accentuating every word. "Explain?!" I shouted as my stomach churned like I was going to be sick. "You want to explain how you used me for some type of sick enjoyment?!" My rage couldn't have been controlled if I wanted it to be. My chest was heaving and I felt like my knees were about to buckle from under me. I hadn't been so forceful in a very long time, and Daryl had never seen that side of me before. I was kinda hoping he would never have to.

Throwing himself up from the couch, Daryl got right in my face, refusing to back down. "Yes, I wanna explain!" he shouted back, his body shaking as he spoke. His eyes were wild as he stood his ground, but was careful not to touch me. There were beads of sweat gathering on his temples and I couldn't tell if it was because of his anger or his pain. Before he spoke again, Daryl took a deep breath and exhaled down into his chest before locking gazes with me again. "Yeah, I said those thangs, okay? I did, an' I'm not gonna lie to ya 'bout it. But I said 'em before I even knew ya, back when ya was comin' to the front door to bitch about the damn music!"

I could tell he was uncomfortable explaining himself to me, and I normally wouldn't have made him continue. This time, however, I was determined to make him uncomfortable. I wanted him to squirm. I knew it was nice or right and it went against every fiber of my being, but I didn't care. In that moment, all I wanted was for him to feel a fraction of my pain. It wasn't fair of me to force him, but I couldn't help myself. "And that makes it okay, how?" I found myself asking, my arms crossed over my chest. I had no intention of letting him off easy.

He sighed angrily as the realization set in that he would have to keep explaining. It was obvious that he'd been banking on sympathy, that he hadn't planned on having to get this far. Looking into my eyes, he eased a bit which caused my hard stare to soften. "It doesn't." he replied earnestly, "I was an ass, I know tha', but...I d'know. After I knew ya, I didn' think that anymore." He swallowed hard and I could see the unease just settling over him. He wasn't at all used to having to explain himself. Sighing, I moved and sat down on the couch, motioning for him to sit next to me. He moved slightly so he still wasn't touching me and I was grateful for the absence of his touch for once.

Turning so he could look at me, Daryl continued without prompting. "After everythin' that happened, I didn' know what to think. You're...different. That's why I was racin' home tonight, so I could talk ta ya about all this shit." His voice was strained while he nervously ran his fingers through his slick, dark hair. Staring at me, he quickly dropped his hand but began to bite on his thumb, a familiar nervous tell of his. It meant that he was truly out of his comfort zone which I knew must have been scaring him shitless for a lack of better terms. "I even tried ta get with some other chick but I couldn'. The whole week I didn' see ya, I didn' do shit. I stayed in the apartment and Merle brought Carly by ta 'cheer me up'. Didn' work." As soon as he finished his thoughts, he asked me if I had anything I wanted to know and my mind began to swim through everything he'd just shared with me.

"Nothin' happened between you and that... woman?" I asked quietly, slightly unbelieving of the information. I'd seen her myself, the way she hung off him, the way she called him 'Baby', the hungry look in her eyes. If Daryl didn't want her, she definitely wanted him and there was no doubt about that. Plus, even Merle had said that he had some woman he was seeing. "But Merle said-"

Daryl quickly cut me off by abruptly holding his hand up. "Don' listen to a word that jackass has to say" he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by his older brother's interference. "He's always stickin' his fat nose where it don' belong." I could tell how just the mere mention of his brother was a pressure point with the younger Dixon and it was off putting. I loved Maggie and Shawn more than life itself. How could Daryl feel so negatively toward his own kin?

For a moment, I just sat there. I didn't know how to respond to everything he'd just said to me. He basically admitted to caring about me. He'd told me about the tramp I found him with and how she didn't mean anything to him. He'd admitted that the reason he was speeding home tonight was because he wanted to talk about everything that had happened between us. The only question that remained in my mind was did he plan on telling me about what he originally thought about me as well, or did he plan on keeping that to himself? There was only one thing I could think to say:

"I have no idea what to do."