Beth had fallen asleep, book in hand. Daryl was unsure how long she'd been asleep, but eventually he tuned into her light breathing. Not wanting to go to bed yet, he stayed up reading 'Of Mice and Men'. Not many people knew he could read; granted, he'd only learned from sounding out the words on in the late notice letters his parents received when he was a kid.
He knew he probably did look strange with the glasses perched on his nose, but he wasn't going to strain his eyes to read the fine print when he had found a perfectly good pair of reading glasses on the nightstand.
Daryl couldn't admit to himself that the real reason he had yet to go to bed was to avoid the nightmares… and dreams of Beth's naked body, stretched in front of him.
The sun had set long ago, and now the only sounds that reached his ears were the rustling of the leaves in the ever cooling wind, the occasional hoot of an owl, and Beth's breathing.
Daryl had forced himself to keep his nose buried in his book after she'd come back wearing those little shorts, and, to his dismay, no bra. It was like she was teasing him on purpose. He made himself believe that he wasn't really attracted to her, that it was just because he hadn't been with a woman since the world fell, and he was just starved, so to speak.
As he read, he heard Beth begin whimpering softly behind him. Her breathing became ragged and, when he turned to look, her face was contorted in what looked like pain. Her mouth was agape, and her hair had fallen in front of her eyes as her whimpering grew louder. Daryl was unsure exactly what to do. It wasn't until she began to yelp loudly that he shook her awake.
It was as though he had electrocuted her.
Beth shot up into a sitting position, her blue eyes wide with terror. Her breathing was ragged still, but growing less erratic. She was shivering and didn't seem to be completely aware. She looked around the room, her hair tossing this way and that, before settling. She looked at Daryl, who had fallen on his bottom in surprise.
"Oh, Daryl, it was so awful!" she said in a broken whimper. Tears began to slide down her cheeks, which were pale and trembling. "It was Daddy… he—he was a walker, and he had Judith in his arms, he was eating her! Maggie and Glenn were at his feet, already dead and bloody and I—I…" she trailed off, unable to finish. Her whole body was soon wracked with sobs.
"Don' cry, sweetheart," Daryl said, trying to sound comforting. "S'just a dream, s'not real." She hiccupped.
"I used to get real bad dreams when I was in the prison… Maggie would always hear me cryin' and leave Glenn to stay with me. She'd wrap her arms around me and squeeze tight; the pressure helped me feel safe." she said through her tears.
"D'you… d'you want me to…" he trailed off, totally at a loss. Beth didn't speak for a minute.
"No… I mean, you don't have to… No, don't worry about it. I'll be just fine." she said finally. Daryl shook his head and stood up.
"Nah, I don't feel like hearing you scream in your sleep again." Daryl shut the light out before climbing up onto the bed beside Beth. He opened his arms, and she scooted into them, crossing her own in front of her chest. The feeling of her ass pressed against Daryl's cock was unexpected, and it was everything he could do not to get hard.
He thought of everything else to take his mind off of it; dead animals, walkers, the feeling of his father's belt on his back… that particular memory quelled any sexual feelings he had. Without disturbing their position, Daryl reached over and covered them both with the comforter.
"You're safe, sweetheart. Ain't nothin' gonna getcha while I'm here," he said resolutely.
"Thank you, Daryl," she breathed quietly before succumbing to sleep. Her soft, small body seemed to fit perfectly in his, and her warmth was just as comforting as, he was sure, his arms around her torso were. He found he could get used to this.
Daryl's last thoughts before he too fell asleep was that, for the first time in a very long time, he felt content.
Beth awoke, her head groggy and swimming. She felt as though she'd been drinking moonshine again. Her mouth was dry. She was otherwise comfortable, except for the book that was pressed against her rear end. She attempted to move her hand to remove the book, and that's when she remembered.
Daryl's strong arms were wrapped around her, shielding her from her nightmares. And that wasn't a book poking into her bum…
Beth felt her face go red as she tried to shift away. Daryl stirred behind her and she swore under her breath. She didn't want him to wake up and realize their predicament, but his arms were so damn strong. The only way she was squirming out of his grip was if he woke up.
So she laid there for several minutes, until she had the urge to use the restroom. As gently as she could, Beth began trying to pry his arms from her torso.
One second she was close to inching her way out of his grip, and the next…
He was completely on top of her, his hands at her throat.
"Daryl!" she gasped, tears in her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath. He didn't seem to be fully aware; Beth got the impression he was still asleep. She swung her hand up and smacked him across the face with all the strength she could muster.
It worked. He blinked several times, and looked down at Beth before she saw comprehension dawn on his features. Daryl moved faster than she'd ever seen him move, out the bedroom door and out of her line of sight.
"Hey!" she called after him. "What the hell, Daryl?!" No answer. Beth leapt up and chased after him.
"What the hell was that?" Her throat was sore, and her words were raspy. Daryl was already down the stairs and pulling on his boots. "Don't you dare run away from me!"
"What do you want me to say, little girl?! I ain't got nothin' to say to you." he replied angrily. "I'm goin' for a run. You stay here."
"What the hell am I supposed to do here, by myself?"
"Christ, I dunno. Somethin' domestic!" Before Beth could retort to his misogynistic comment, he was out the door, slamming it loudly behind him. A painting near the door fell and the glass shattered upon impact.
The next several days were the definition of tense. Beth and Daryl spoke hardly a word to each other. She continued to have nightmares, but Daryl did not come to her aid again. Sometimes, she would catch him glaring at her, but she ignored it. She made lunch and dinner with the venison, but ate upstairs. She had no desire to be anywhere near him.
He had yet to apologize for nearly choking her to death, and frankly, Beth wasn't sure she'd accept the apology now. Why, oh why did she have to be stuck with Daryl Dixon?
So Beth had spent her time packing everything they would need. On his solo runs, Daryl had found the majority of supplies they needed, including several full containers of fuel. She was grateful he'd been able to find everything they needed, but refused to express her gratitude to him.
In the end, she'd packed over six suitcases, and one cooler she'd found rifling through the basement. Two for clothing (one his, one hers), two for sheets and towels and other such things, one for all the dry and canned food they'd accumulated plus utensils, and one for soap. Yes, Beth had filled an entire suitcase with soap and various other toiletries, including the ever important toilet paper.
When Daryl had seen all six suitcases, she could tell he was simmering mad. She knew he would have opted to just bring a pack full of basics. This increased the tension between them.
The cooler contained saran wrapped venison, as well as jugs of water Beth had frozen. Along the way, they'd be able to keep fresh kills in it. Winter was still several months away down south, but up north it was probably already snowing. When the jugs thawed, they'd be able to refreeze them overnight outside.
Beth felt as prepared as ever, and the night before, she'd had a difficult time falling asleep. When she finally settled down and fell asleep, she was restless, nightmares plaguing her mind. In the morning, she felt increasingly on edge and tense.
After showering for what could potentially be the last time in a long time, she did a triple check of the house and supplies, making sure she'd remembered absolutely everything. She had filled a camping pack with a few books from the girl's shelf, as well as the honeysuckle body mist, a few pairs of socks, a change of clothes, and a brush. She didn't want to have to dig through her meticulous packing to get things she'd potentially need while on the road.
The box of condoms caught Beth's eye; she'd angrily unpacked them after that morning he had nearly killed her, but now thinking on it, who knows if she'd ever need them if she met another survivor? She stuck them in the front pocket of the pack, and headed downstairs.
Daryl was downstairs in the garage, loading up the SUV. Beth caught his eye as she put her pack and a pillow in the passenger side of the vehicle, and quickly looked away.
"Didja have to pack so damn much?" Daryl asked, his tone accusatory.
"You might be able to get by with the clothes on your back and that stupid crossbow, but I can't!" she replied heatedly.
"This 'stupid' crossbow has saved yer life more times'n I can count!" he shot back. Beth flipped him off.
"You didn't bother to teach me how to defend myself, so I'm stuck relyin' on you!" She turned around and began to storm back into the house.
"I wouldn't waste my time tryin'a teach ya, since nothin' would stick, little girl!" That did it. She charged up to him and pushed him.
"I ain't a little girl! Call me that one more time and see what happens!" Daryl narrowed his eyes.
"Little girl." Her hand flew up to slap him, but he caught it easily and pushed her into the side of the car.
Suddenly, his lips were crushing hers. She was pinned between the car and his body, her hands above her head being held up by his. His stubble scratched her face, but she kissed back fiercely.
It was like nothing she'd ever felt before; sure, she'd made out with other boys, but that was just it. They were boys. Daryl was a man, and actually knew what he was doing. He was sucking on her bottom lip, and then he was biting, and then suckling again to dull the pain of the bite. Beth felt dizzy, more intoxicated than she'd ever been.
She could feel his tongue in her mouth, minty from toothpaste. The kiss was harsh, and probing, and she relished every second of it.
But then, just as quickly as it had begun, he was backing away. Beth didn't follow him, didn't call after him.
She slowly slipped down the side of the vehicle and tried to catch her breath.
"Wow," was all she could muster.
Wow is right. A lot just happened. What will happen next? Y'all have to review some more to find out!
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