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The celebrations had long finished and everyone had found their way back to their cells, Carol, of course, was still in with Daryl and they spoke as they shared the left over champagne. She lay propped up on Daryl's pillow with the bottle in her right hand and her knife in her left and Daryl sat at the foot of the bed with another champagne bottle in his hand.
"You know, you look mighty intimidatin' wieldin' that knife." Daryl slurred, he brought his bottle to his lips and gulped down the alcohol.
"I might have to fight off your drunken advances." Carol quipped arching her eyebrows.
Daryl scoffed and brought the bottle back up to his lips. "No chance."
"Oh charmin'." She frowned, "I didn't know I was that repulsive to you."
"I didn't mean... I don't know what I meant, I'm not sober." He groaned placing his free hand on his forehead, "You're not repulsive."
"Well, what am I then?"
Daryl closed his eyes tightly, he didn't know how to answer that without having her upset with him, "You're... different."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." Carol stated sarcastically, she sat up to take a swig from her bottle and lay back down again, "You're different too."
"Yeah but I'm a different kind of different." Daryl mumbled, he leant forward and placed a hand on her knee, "You know how I feel about you Carol."
Him saying her name did strange things to her insides but she remained calm on the outside and shrugged, "No I don't." She told him, "You blow hot and cold all the time. One minute you're you and the next minute you don't want to know."
"I always want to know." Daryl confessed sincerely, he brushed his thumb back and forth on her knee and sighed, "Even if it don't seem like it sometimes."
"Like earlier with Tyreese."
"I don't like Tyreese." He told her moving his hand to grip the neck of his bottle.
Carol shrugged, "I don't see why, he's nothin' but nice to everyone."
"Exactly!" Daryl said louder than intended, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his free hand and shrugged, "He's too nice to some people."
"Namely – me."
Daryl shrugged and looked down at his hands, "Sometimes, yeah."
"Are you jealous Daryl Dixon?" She asked sitting forward.
Daryl looked at her through hooded eyes and shrugged, "I don't... know..." He stammered, they were sitting a matter of inches apart, he could feel her breath on his face.
"I think you are." She smiled slightly.
Daryl shrugged and swallowed hard; he was suddenly aware of his heart beating erratically in his chest and wondered if Carol could hear it too.
Carol's eyes drifted down to his lips and she bit down softly on her own bottom lip in an attempt to suppress the urge to lean just a few inches forward to kiss him. She watched as his tongue shot out of his mouth and he licked at his top lip, such a simple action and yet it sent her insides into turmoil.
Daryl's gaze shifted to her eyes, possibly his favourite thing about her – aside from when she bit her lip of course – he was just about to tell her he thought so too when her hand appeared from nowhere and came to rest on his cheek. Just as he was about to ask what she was doing, she leant forward and pressed her lips softly against his, he froze as her lips moved slowly and expertly against his.
He couldn't comprehend what was going on – it was all he'd ever wanted, but on the other hand he couldn't quite believe that this woman, perfection personified, was interested in him... Daryl Dixon wasn't a lady's man; he didn't have a long line of ex girlfriends; he didn't know how to please a woman in that way, let's just say he was pretty damn clueless, even with her taking the lead.
"Wait, stop." Daryl breathed, he gingerly placed his hands on her forearms and pushed her away. "Carol, I can't do this." He was referring, of course, to his lack of experience but Carol stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. "You're drunk." He added.
"Sorry." Carol mumbled, blushing wildly, her green eyes darted around the room trying to find something to focus on. Anything but him...
"Look at me," He used his right hand to angle her face back towards his, "It's not you."
"Oh how original." Carol muttered flinching away from his touch, she grabbed her knife from behind her and stuffed it into the waistband of her jeans before getting to her feet.
"Hey, wait, I'm not... good at this."
Carol sighed heavily and shook her head, "No, neither am I." She told him manoeuvring around the now empty bottle of alcohol she'd placed on the floor and heading for the cell door.
"Carol, wait..."
"No," She said louder than she intended, "Daryl just leave me alone."