I watch as the little rodent digs away at the ground. Probably finishin' up his stock before winter. The mornin' light illuminates the richness of his grey fur. His eyes are watery little beads, dartin' all 'round. The small, black nose twitches at the air, but senses no danger. He won't know I'm here so long's I stay silent an' still. His limber little body scurries 'bout two feet off the ground an' I take a split second to appreciate the willowy movement before my bolt skewers it to the tree trunk. I walk over to it an' take it down, tyin' it to the rope on my shoulder. This little bastard makes four fresh squirrels. Thank Christ, 'cause I can't live off of pigs feet an' jelly alone.
I'm only vaguely aware that I'm wanderin' aimlessly through these woods, an it ain't natural for me. I should be more alert. I try to focus on sights an' sounds; anything to hint approachin' predators or prey. All I hear is the ground crunchin' under my boots. My body pushes through the briars an' branches, steppin' over fallen trees. This is my element an' it's where I've always felt at home. Physically, I'm here in the heart of these woods. Mentally I'm back in that funeral home.
If I lived another hundred years, I would never have a memory as good as the first time wakin' up next to Beth.
I felt her flushed to my side with her head on my shoulder. Her leg was on top of mine an' her arm was 'cross my chest. I don't know when or how, but she ended up tangled up with me in her sleep. The contact was a lot to take in. My first thoughts after the initial shock weren't entirely noble. It's not everyday in the apocalypse that you wake up with a beautiful girl pressed against you, 'specially when the beautiful girl's the one you want next to you. But I pushed those urges aside. This has to be different, an' she deserves the better me.
I reached my own hand up an' lightly placed it over hers. I noticed how small it was as I traced it with my thumb. Closin' my eyes, I wondered what this actually means. I want her to open up to me, to feel the way I do. At the same time I question the damage I could be puttin' on my own heart while chasin' this. For all I know, she only looks to me as her protector an' provider. A deeper part of me thinks there's more to it. Why else did I wake up in that position with her?
My thoughts were interrupted by the feelin' of her body pullin' away from mine. As quickly as her fire warmed me, the few remainin' pieces of ice are quicker to slide back in place once the flame is gone. We shifted 'round the room awkwardly. I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the thought that this really was nothin' more to her than two friends campin' out in a funeral home parlor. I needed to get out of that fuckin' place to clear my head.
She knows I'm out here huntin' fresh meat for us. She doesn't know I'm workin' out this fuckin' mess in my mind, tryin' to figure out my next move, if there is one. Thinkin' of the different possibilities, I could completely forget the fuckin' nightmare of a world out here away from them walls. I can see us livin' in this place an' everything workin' out for us. I would show her how I've changed, an' she could love me. But something in me's not so sure anymore. I want to think she feels the same way, but it feels like a gamble with fate. I ain't ever been good at gamblin'. An' this mornin' was strange, at least, the distance was. In all my life I would've never been troubled over distance between myself an' another human bein', but this is fuckin' killin' me. I know I have my flaws. There's still demons that lurk beneath my surface. She helped me overcome some of my guilt, my fear of bein' alone. But she doesn't know everything. I can't bring myself to talk 'bout my life with my father, that he's the reason I preferred solitude all these years. An' I always had Merle tellin' me not to trust nothin' that weren't blood. Ironic considerin' my old man was the last person I woulda ever trusted.
Without even realizin' it, I'm standin' back at the porch' wonderin' how the fuck I got there. This is the second time in a matter of days that my sense of direction has been thrown off by my hazy mind. Son of a bitch. Beth's hobblin' towards the kitchen when I get inside.
"You'll take all day gettin' in there." I walk up next to her an' throw my bow over my back.
"I'm goin' as fast as I can!" She laughs at me as I tell her it ain't fast enough an' sweep her up in my arms. I carry her through the door an' she tells me to stand her by the cabinets. Her back's turned to me as she's goin' through the cupboards. She stretches up to grab a can an' the movement draws my attention to how graceful it is. Her shoulder blades shift when reachin' up an' the bottom of her shirt raises to show her waist. It isn't until I go to clear my throat that I realize my mouth went dry. For fuck's sake. As if my mind wanderin' off ain't bad enough, now my own body is against me. Windin' up back here 'fore meanin' to makes a lot more sense when all of me is drawn to her.
She heard my weak attempt at gettin' her attention an' I tell her to sit down an' let me get whatever she needed. "I was just tryin' to figure out what we've got that goes well with rabbits or squirrels. That's why you saw me comin' in here. I reckoned we'd make a meal out of it."
I hold up my squirrel line. "How'd you know I'd get somethin'?" I struggle to fight the smile playin' on my lips.
"Really, Daryl? If you came back empty handed I'd be speechless. I knew you'd bring home meat." She rolls her eyes with the last sentence, but all I hear is that word: Home. I only realize the stupid grin stretched 'cross my face when it's too late. She's laughin' at me now.
"Daryl Dixon, are you laughin' at my trust in you?" She's gigglin' an' my mind swims with the idea that she trusts me, that she considers this place our home. But she misread my smile. Her insinuatin' that this was our home set my insides on fire. I cling so desperately to that slippery edge between this bein' real or all in my head.
"Whatever you say, Beth." I toss the squirrels on the counter. I'll clean them after we eat an' we'll have them for later. Normally I'd eat them now, but all I care 'bout is the thought of her wantin' to make a meal out of it with me. I grab what's left of our usual meal. Ain't much jelly left, so I grab a jar of pigs feet. She's barely made a dent in that damn peanut butter. As we sit across each other eatin' our rations, Beth points out that I'm usin' a spoon instead of my fingers.
"I guess you've finally domesticated me, girl." I can't hold her gaze even when I'm only jokin'.
"I find it hard to believe that anybody could domesticate you, least of all me. But I'm flattered all the same." She nods to me, an' I tap at the bottom of the jar to get what's left. Before I know it, Beth starts scoopin' peanut butter with her fingers an' completely disregards her own spoon. I shoot her a questionin' look.
"Well, I like the undomesticated Daryl way more. If it takes me gettin' my hands dirty to keep that Daryl 'round, it's worth it." She slips her fingers in her mouth. I can't take my eyes off her. This beautiful fuckin' girl, the one who's always so polite, prefers my wild side. She even quoted my previous statement of her gettin' down an' dirty. A quick flash of her bein' dirty makes my heart stand still. Just as I secretly picture what that Beth would be like, the cans outside start rattlin'.
"Stay right there." I grab up my crossbow from the counter an' head out to the front door. I check through a crack in the boards an' hardly believe what I'm seein'. I open up the door to a scruffy white dog missin' an eye. I call out that it's just a damn dog so she doesn't freak out. Lookin' down at him, I feel kinda sorry for the bastard for losin' his eye, but the fact that he's out here says he's one tough son of a bitch. I kneel down an' try to call him to me. The fucker smells my hand an' takes off runnin'. What the hell's his problem? I straighten up, peer 'round the yard an' close the door back up.
Beth's standin' in the doorway starin' at me. I'm startin' to think it'd kill her to listen to me. "I thought I told you to stay put?" I find it hard to mask me bein' pissed at her.
"Yeah. But, Daryl, you said it was a dog." I know there's no harm in her bein' curious over some stray mutt. We head back into the kitchen to finish eatin' up. I can't help but admire the innocence of the sweet girl who concerns herself with strays; dogs an' men alike.