Norman
They were lying in their tent, listening to the sounds of the night. She was tracing the tattoo on his chest. She'd always wondered who Norman was. She looked up at him, he looked like he was asleep, but she knew better. "Daryl?" she asked quietly. He hummed. "Who's Norman?" she asked quietly.
He cracked an eye open and looked at her before sighing, wrapping his arm a little tighter around her. "My older brother. He was younger than Merle, the middle child." He looked down at the tattoo and covered her hand with his, flattening it out over the tattoo. "He wrecked his bike, died."
She frowned a little and leaned up and kissed him. "I'm sorry."
Daryl shrugged. "He was twenty three when it happened, I was only nineteen, it's been a while." He sighed and pulled her down onto his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Do you miss him?" He nodded his head. "Is that why you got the tattoo? A memorial?"
He sighed and rubbed his head. "It's the Dixon way. Someone you love dies, you get their name on your skin." She frowned a little. He couldn't get Merle's. She gently put her head on his chest, over the tattoo.
"I'd get your name on my skin," she whispered.
"Me too."