"Is that a real tattoo?" Charlotte asked, examining the lettering on Daryls chest. She glanced at him. His face was red and his smile cheeky, he was drunk. Wasted,
"All for you baby." He kissed her neck, pulling her in his lap. She could almost roll her eyes at him.
"Don't tell me you got this drunk." She was ignoring his lips. His walls had started to come down, he was still a little hard to chew. But he'd opened right up when he was drunk. "Daryl, baby." She pushed his head away. He looked up at her, his usually stern eyes childish, and wide.
"Cause I looooove you." He kissed her jaw. Charlotte went to see if there was a chance that it was a fake by rubbing it off. It passed the "real tattoo" test. "And yer name is pretty. It even look pretty. I've been with ya' three years. I got yer name on me, and I'm gonna marry ya' someday.
"You are supposed to use chalk for hopscotch." A child with long blonde hair whined. Charlotte examined the dirt outline, then smiled at the girl.
"It's the best we have, Mary." She said. The little girl seemed to pout, but once her friend started to play, she joined in. Charlotte smiled, glancing toward were Michael, the groups undesignated leader, was pacing back and forth. One of the men went out for supplies days ago and he wasn't back. Charlotte looked to make sure the girls were preoccupied and made her way toward Michael. "He's probably held up."
"He probably got into some shit." Michael said, continuing his pacing. "I never should have let him went."
Charlotte caught the blonde man by his arm and looked him in his brown eyes. "There is not letting and not letting. What he does isn't up to you, you know that. If anything happens to him it's not on you." He shook his head and pulled away. Charlotte sighed and looked to their makeshift walls that surrounded the motor in, made of cars, garbage cans, furniture and whatever was big enough. There was no sign of anyone.
"I hate to say it." Charlotte looked toward the voice, belonging to a short haired bruenette named Violet. "But we are running low on food, we need to send a group out. Someone else is bound to come back." Michael whipped around and glared at her.
"Let me guess, you won't be a part of that group." Quipped Charlotte. Violet looked at her through narrowed eyes. "I hate to say it, but she's right. We need supplies, and we need to find Jack." Michael was shaking his head as she talked. Charlotte got very close to him. "I hate to remind you but we are dangerously low on food. The kids are starving. We're starving. I'll go." She stated, raising her arm up and looking around at the group. A few more people rose their hands. She looked to Michael. "Jack went by himself; we have a better chance like this."
"Like you said, I don't get to say who leaves or who stays." Michael scoffed, looking to the ground. "Just be careful, I don't need anything happening to the only person with medical experience."
Charlotte nodded. "Alright, let's get ready to head out." Four out of their group of fifteen were going. Kyle, an 18 year old boy who was at school when the outbreak started, Ruth, a dark skinned girl in her late twenties working at Taco Plaza before infection, Tanner, a hunter, and Damian, a quiet young man who never seemed to have a lot to say. They gathered weapons and set out of the Motor Inn and into the direction of town in a car. There were no Biters on the way in.
Charlotte stepped out of the car. "It's almost too peaceful." She said, looking around the small town.
"How cliché." Ruth commented, shutting her door quietly. Tanner hushed everyone, looking around. "What is it?" she whispered.
He kneeled down. "These treads belong to the Jeep Jack took." He stood back up and looked around. "Where is the Jeep?" Charlotte surveyed the tracks as they lead toward the other side of town.
"Where the hell did he go?" she asked. "The grocery store is right here. Why would he have to go that way?"
"Let's just go get supplies. Then we will follow the Jeep tracks." Tanner said, heading toward the store. The split up once inside, Charlotte went with Ruth toward the canned food section.
"Were you married before this Ruth?" Charlotte asked, surveying the cans. Most were broken open and no good.
"Divorced actually." She said. Ruth had her daughter, Monroe, back at the Motor Inn. "I have no idea what happened to Monroe's dad after this all happened."
"Did you love him?" Charlotte picked up a can of green beans.
Ruth scoffed, laughing slightly. "Hell no." she shook her head. "He was just a night a fun that went too far. But I love my Monroe." She smiled and looked at Charlotte. "How 'bout you?"
Charlotte smiled. "Yeah."
"Where he at now?" Ruth asked.
"I'm not sure." She started to pack her bag with what was left of the good canned foods. "I hope that he never got anywhere near Atlanta."
"Where was he when the outbreak happened?" Ruth asked, a sad look on her face.
"He was in Knoxville. That's where we lived. I was just outside of Atlanta."
"Why?" Ruth asked.
Charlotte frowned. "We were in a fight. A pretty big one."
Charlotte and Daryl got married when Charlotte turned twenty-four, Daryl was twenty-six. Daryl took her to Florida, and the only people who were there was Merle, and Charlotte's older sister Shianne. Charlotte wore a puffed out white dress the came to her knees, a pretty veil on her head. Daryl wore nice borrowed suit. They went to the casino for their wedding night, spending the rest of the week going to the beach.
The first couple of years were great. Daryl was affectionate, as long as other people weren't around. But after a while, things caught up with him. Daryl fell into a depression he couldn't explain. They fought, Daryl broke plates and glasses and slammed doors, he'd go to the bar and wouldn't come back until late. He started to drink a lot.
"I don't need this shit!" Daryl screamed one particular night. He could tell he was hurting her, and he didn't know how to stop. He loved her so much and the mean things just spilled out of his mouth. "And I don't need you!" he shouted heatedly, walking around her.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" she yelled. He ignored her. "Your just like your daddy!" she threw something over his head. From the sound of it breaking it was one of their glasses. "You drunk bastard!"
"Dumb bitch." He muttered. He couldn't stop, not being able to figure out what was wrong with him. He walked into their kitchen toward their front door.
"Daryl Dixon, if you walk out of this fucking house again I'm done with you!" she followed after him. "I swear to God all of your shit will be on the lawn! Daryl!" she was crying now and even though his mind screamed at him to turn around and grab her, he slammed the front door. She stood in the doorway. "I'm serious Daryl, I'll leave you!" he opened his truck door. "FINE! This is the last time you will ever see me!" He backed up his truck and pulled away from the house.
When he got home late that night, his stuff wasn't on the lawn. He walked up to their bedroom and she wasn't in there. "Babe?" he called out, looking over his shoulder. He glanced back into the bedroom and noticed their wardrobe. All the drawers were open. He looked through the closet and drawers and all of her things were gone. He called her cell phone, she didn't answer.
She didn't answer for over a month. Daryl drank. And he called. And she wouldn't answer. Late at night he would lay in their bed and cry. His 29th birthday came and went. Every year she would make him a cake and his favorite dinner. This year he didn't even hear from her. It had almost been two months when his phone rang. "Hello?"
"Daryl?"
"Charlotte?" he sat up on the couch. "Charlotte, please listen. I'm so sorry, babe I want you to come back."
She was silent for a moment. "You need help, Daryl."
He leaned back. "I know. I love you. I'll do what it takes."
She sighed. "I don't know Daryl."
"Please, can we at least talk?" he almost begged. "I'll come see ya."
She said she was at her sisters, just outside of Atlanta. The following morning he would set out to see her. When the morning came, his brother pulled in as Daryl was walking to his truck. "We gotta' go little brother."
Daryl shook his head. "Whatever it is, no. I need to go see Charlotte."
Merle grabbed Daryls arm. "Little brother, have you seen the news?"
"The call won' go through." Daryl said, throwing the cell phone.
"Don't worry, she's right outside of Atlanta. We grab her and we go." But there was no grabbing an going. The town was empty, and when they pulled up to her sisters house, there was a large cardboard leaned up against the wall that read, "DARYL, MEET ME IN ATLANTA".
The road to Atlanta was at a standstill. Eventually people got out of their car and started to look around. "Towns right there!" Daryl yelled, looking at the visible Atlanta. "Why the fuck aren't we movin'?"
"Somethin' is goin' on." Said a man with dark, corse, hair. He looked to Daryl. "Look at all them helicopters flyin' around the town. And there ain't nothin' on the radio." Daryl swore and started to pace. The dark haired man went to investigate and in front of Daryls eyes, he watched Atlanta go up in flames. Daryl could barely hear himself screaming "no", over and over again.
So these short chapters are done. The purpose of the first two chapters were to give an idea of Daryl and Charlotte's life before the apocalypse, so the good stuff comes next. Please review!