"Damn. If it weren't for Abraham, I'd love to tear up a few sheets with Robin Hood over there."
I can already guess who she's talkin' about, but I follow Rosita's gaze anyway. Daryl's over in the shade, his back to us. He's got another doe strung up by a tree branch. The muscles in his arms flex as he pulls the rope, a counterweight to raise the deer higher. I can't help but appreciate how attractive he is, even from behind. I can only daydream about what the muscles in his back must look like, flexin' an' pullin'. But I know he'll never walk 'round the yard here shirtless. He's already exposed his scars to me an' I thought he had only broken hisself further that night. We've come a ways since then.
A smile spreads across my face when I think of our first time together. It was completely romantic, I still feel dizzy when I think that's exactly how he wanted it. It was perfect. How gentle he was, how much he loved me. An' he looked just as nervous as I felt. There's a pull at my belly when I think of how much I enjoyed the less gentle side of him in the water. The way his fingers dug into my skin, his pantin' breaths an' manly grunts at my ear as he pulled me closer an' pushed deeper. Lookin' at him now, I can already feel the heat risin' to my face.
I shake my head clear of those thoughts an' get back to washin' clothes. Rosita's sittin' on the dock, her bad leg stretched in front of her, the good one dangles down to the water. I like Rosita. She's tough like Maggie an' Michonne. I take no offense to her comment. If I were the jealous type, I'd lose my mind tryin' to hang on to a man like Daryl Dixon. But I don't have to be jealous when he doesn't realize what a catch he is. I always get sad when I think of just how poorly he sees hisself. Like lookin' at your reflection in a cracked mirror, the image's distorted. He doesn't accept what a good person he is. He shies away from all compliments, actually. There's still a lot of groundwork to be done with the task of rebuildin' Daryl.
I'm scrubbin' one of his shirts when I drop the bar of soap in the water. I bend down to pick it up an' grimace at the ache between my legs. It ain't the first time this mornin' that I felt that. I thought I'd be brought to tears when I bent down to take off my boots before gettin' in the water. I take a deep breath an' push through it. I wasn't dumb enough to think I wouldn't be sore afterwards. This mornin' plays back through my mind.
I woke up to a light tickle on my thigh. He was slowly skimmin' his fingers up an' down my leg. His face was in my hair, his breathin' soothed me. The sun was warm on my skin, shinin' through that big window. For a second, I could pretend everything was fine. It was like I told him last night, all I had to do was pretend. I could tell he thought I was asleep. He usually seems more relaxed when he thinks he's the only one awake. He whispers sweet nothin's in my ear, kisses the top of my head, my neck. It's obvious to me that he adores me. I just wish I could get him outta that shell.
The caressin' touch he gave me only paid memory to the touches from last night. There was a fire inside me, then. Without warnin' him, my fingers stretched back to his hair. I could spend hours runnin' my fingers through his shaggy locks. I find myself doin' that whenever we kiss. I added a smolder to my voice, tryin' to sound like one of those pretty actresses you used to see in the movies. The girls who always get the guys. I could only hope to come off with so much appeal.
"Mornin'."
He shifted so his lips were at my ear, his usual smirk. It sent a shiver through me as his hand left my thigh an' I felt the rough palm flatten against the lower part of my stomach. He was quiet, as though he thought the rest of the world still slept. Like we were the only two people to stir this early in the mornin'. His breath was warm against my earlobe as he spoke to me.
"Sleep alright?" I had told him it was the best sleep I've had in a long while. I didn't tell him that it was the first night I didn't have my nightmare. He doesn't know about that. I wasn't about to tell him then. His thumb lightly brushed my naval. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips. He chuckled softly against my cheek. Apparently, bein' ticklish was amusin' to him.
"You're such a girl." My hand dropped from his head an' my fingers grazed his ribs. My wrist was in a steel grasp before I could find out if I could get a good laugh outta him. I couldn't fight the pouty look on my face. His hand came up to my jaw, he grasped my chin firmly as he turned me to face him. He kissed me softly an' I felt my body heat up. He let go of me, rested his forehead in my hair. I heard him clear his throat, his voice quiet. Almost shy.
"How you feelin'?" It took a millisecond for me to understand the question, I almost blushed as the memory of last night flew through my mind. I sounded shy, too, when I answered him.
"I think I'm fine, actually." I felt him nod against me. A small laugh escaped him.
"Wait 'til you get up. You'll be hatin' me all day." He almost sounded sad, then. It was like he really thought I could hate him. I needed to pull him away from that. I turned on my side. He looked guarded again, like he was waitin' for somethin' bad. I didn't know how else I could make him see that we're alright. I gave him a small kiss an' decided to throw caution to the wind. I wanted him to smile. I needed him to be happy.
My tongue pushed into his mouth causin' him to groan, I tugged forcefully on his hair. His hands cupped my face, but I pulled away. I sat up next to him, his complete focus on me. He licked over his bottom lip an' the sight nearly knocked me over. I lifted up the shirt he'd given me last night an' tossed it aside. I sat in front of him in nothin' but my boy shorts as his eyes raked over me. I didn't feel an urge to hide myself or cover up in front of him. He sat there, still as stone, a hunger burnin' in those beautiful blue eyes. I held onto his hands as I lifted myself over his body. The movement made me realize how sore I was, but I fought it. I purposefully ground my hips against him as I dragged my fingers over his bare chest. The moan he let out was intoxicatin'. I leaned down an' whispered against his lips.
"I love you." His own mouth smiled against mine as he grabbed my hips an' rolled me over on the mattress. I arched my back when I felt his thumbs hook into the only fabric on my body. His mouth fell to my breasts an' traveled down my stomach, nearly settin' me on fire as he slowly slid my underwear down my legs. He was on top of me, then. He nipped along my jaw as he slowly pushed hisself into me. Before he took me for the second time, he whispered in my ear.
"I love you."
"Hey, did you hear me?" I realize I've been scrubbin' the same shirt this whole time. Rosita's starin' at me.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" She lets out a puff of air, flips back one of her pigtails.
"I asked if you wouldn't mind helpin' me back up. Fuck a busted leg, right?" She smiles at me as I toss the shirt up to the dock, pullin' myself up after it. I wince again, an' decide the pain couldn't go away soon enough. I lift her to her feet an' make sure she's steady. "Thanks, kid. Might as well get my ass inside an' grab somethin' to drink." She limps back to the cabin an' I'm left to myself. I glance back over to the yard but don't see Daryl standin' there. Just a strung up doe.
"Jesus. Thought she'd never leave." His voice makes me jump, but I'm relieved to see him walkin' up the dock. He looks better than he did when he first woke up.
"Why were you waitin' for her to leave? You know you can come over here if you want." He just shrugs, eyes on the ground. It was a stupid question. I know he still isn't completely comfortable with those three, yet. He looks to the woods.
"Wanna go huntin'?" I glance over at his doe, then back to him. I'm confused. He catches it. "Figured we could do somethin' together today." I understood what he meant. We fell into the swing of our old routine. Ladies washin' an' men workin' to secure the area, Daryl bringin' home our food. I hadn't realized how strained the last few days had been. How we could actually find time here to finally enjoy livin' again.
"I'll go get my knife."
"Don't need it."
We head out through the trees, my hand in his as his bow hangs over his other side. I take a second to appreciate the rough, callouses of his hand against the softer skin of mine. I think of his strong hands elsewhere, an' I bite my lip. He points out things to me I wouldn't ever notice on my own. Little signs of animals that he can track, like fur caught to briars an' tiny footprints in the dirt. I'm fascinated by everything he has to show me. I start to wonder why he never speaks up more. With me, he's at least open. I know there's so much more to him. I feel like I have all the time in the world to figure it out. A safe place like this can do that to you.
We've gotten a pretty good ways out. I stare down the sight at the rabbit we've tracked. I can see Daryl outta the corner of my eye, one leg kicked behind him as he's propped up against that tree. He's chewin' the tip of his thumb, watchin' me. My lessons have picked up again. When he handed me the bow, he told me that I was on my own today. That my stance an' shots were all up to me. I put everything I have into keepin' my focus on that rabbit. My aim an' trigger are one as I let out my breath. I'm rewarded with the arrow findin' it's way to the skull.
"That's my girl." He gently squeezes my arm as he walks past to get my prize. He holds it up by the ears an' tugs hard on the arrow. He smirks at me. "Ain't enough to call a meal, but I'm proud of you." My heart swells at his words. He tosses it to me an' I just barely catch it before it can touch the dirt. I laugh at him.
"One of these days I'll be the one takin' care of you." He rolls his eyes.
"That s'posed to be an old person joke?" There's humor in his voice, so I know he wasn't offended. He places his hand at the small of my back an' we go further out. When we come to a fallen tree, he motions for me to have a seat. I try to hide the discomfort from my face as I sit next to him. But a skilled hunter can pick up anything.
"Sorry 'bout that." He nods towards my lap. I can't believe he's apologizin' to me. It's hard to hide my irritation.
"You don't have to be sorry. I'm not. 'Sides, now that everything's finally goin' right for us, I figure we'll have plenty of time to practice." He almost smiles. He's turnin' my arrow in his fingers. I can tell he's thinkin' somethin' over. I know he won't speak on his own. "What's the matter?" I'm answered with a shrug. Now there's no hidin' my irritation. "I thought we were past shruggin' shoulders an' silent treatments, Daryl." A heavy sigh parts his lips, his shoulders hunch an' he's no longer playin' with that arrow. I can feel a sick twistin' in my stomach, anticipatin' his words.
"It ain't gonna last."
My heart stops. In fact, I think I feel it breakin'. I've been such a stupid girl to think I could be what he wants. My earlier assumption over Rosita makes me feel even more foolish. How could he possibly want me when there are much better women that would gladly throw themselves at him? I can feel the tears burnin' at my eyes. What could've brought this on? My inexperience? My age? I'm ready to accuse him of many things when he continues.
"This place is too good to be true. I feel it deep in my gut. I know I can't expect a good thing to last. The prison, the funeral home." He blanches. I quickly recover from my first presumption an' take his hand in mine.
"Maybe luck's in our favor? I mean, even our group deserves a break." I don't know what I've said to upset him, but he abruptly pulls his hand from mine, leaves my side an' stands in front of me. I can see his muscles tighten, he won't look me in the eyes.
"Y'all are awful dependent on luck an' faith out here. Jesus Christ. Weren't it luck we found that prison? What was it when we lost it?" He's really upset. I feel ashamed that I hadn't noticed before, this is somethin' that's really been eatin' away at him. I sit quietly as he continues. "The fuckin' funeral home? Shit, I was dumb enough to think me an' you coulda lived the rest of our lives there." He doesn't catch the surprise on my face at his words, too busy lookin' at the arrow between his fingers. He scoffs, an' his eyes now burn into mine. "Terminus? Fuckin' sanctuary, my ass! Don't you people get it? I been sayin' it all along: There ain't no more hope. It's all livin' an' dyin'. If y'all can get outta your little fantasy land, maybe we can work a little harder to stay away from the dyin' side!"
"Daryl, we ain't really livin' if all we focus on is not dyin'. I'm sorry, but I don't wanna spend the rest of my life runnin'. I can't. You an' I both know I'm not as strong as the rest of you. Look at everything that's happened to me because I'm so weak. It's only a matter of time before..." But I don't get to finish my sentence.
He's on me now, his lips brutally crush against mine. It's only just painful. His tongue begs entrance to my mouth, an' I give in. His hand tightly grips the back of my neck, the other rakes down my side an' digs at the flesh on my hip. I gasp into his mouth. Before I can fully wrap my head 'round the change in mood, I feel his lips slowly leave mine. He pulls me against him, his hands are firm at my neck an' the small of my back. It's the tightest embrace he's ever put me in. I almost jump when he speaks.
"Don't. I'll never let anything happen to you again. Just, don't." I take his hand in mine an' we start to make our way back. We're still a good distance away when Daryl throws his arm out, the impact knocks the wind outta me. I look up to him an' he puts his finger to his lips, silencin' me. Now I hear it, somethin's makin' it's way through the woods. I look 'round us, but I don't see anything. Daryl's voice is low when he speaks.
"Somethin's followin' us."
"Walkers or people?" He shrugs, he's strainin' to pick up anymore sounds. I stand frozen to the spot. Outta the corner of my eye, I see the movement in the tall brush to his other side. Luckily, he saw it first an' raises his bow. His voice is deadly.
"Walk on outta there. Hands where I can see 'em." I waited for a man or woman to step out. But they never did. Instead, four walkers finally tore their way through to us. An arrow flew through the forehead of one, Daryl grabbed my hand an' we ran a few good feet but the terrain was against us. He had just jumped over a bush when I tripped, my foot caught in it.
I could hear the dead closin' in on me as I tried to untangle my leg from the thorns. Strugglin', the briars tore at my skin an' soon my jeans were soaked in blood. He was at my side, his hands bleedin' as he pulled at the vines to free me. I let out a cry as a rottin' arm crept up my leg through the bush. It was strong as it pulled on me. I saw it's face was ripped at the mouth with teeth gnashin' at me. It pulled me harder an' I felt the thorns dig into my side. Daryl pulled at my arms, a deadly tug-of-war. The thing that was once a very large man was gonna pull me right through the thorns an' right to him. With another jerk Daryl's hands slipped as I was bein' dragged through the bush, the thorns were daggers in my skin. I screamed outta pain an' fear as I kicked my free leg at it.
I saw the crossbow connect with it's head, splatterin' the bush in brain matter. Daryl swung it at the third, knockin' it down. As my fingers worked at the vines, I saw him kick the fourth in the chest, spinnin' 'round to split his buck knife through the skull of the other. His grip was firm on the handle as he ripped it from tissue an' bone, drivin' it up through the jaw of the last with such force it was lifted off the ground. He turned back to me, lookin' afraid for the first time since I'd met him on my daddy's farm. It's terrifyin' to see Daryl Dixon afraid.
He quickly dropped back to my side, told me to hold still as he quickly sliced at the vines with his knife. When I was finally untangled, he grasped my hand an' we ran. I mostly limped, the pain in my leg was awful. But I pushed through it. Once we broke through to our camp he lifted me in his arms. We shoved past Rick an' Michonne who had been quarterin' that doe.
"Daryl? What happened?" Rick's voice is panicked. I see Michonne run in front of us to get the door, Rick right behind us. Daryl turns to face them, me still in his arms.
"Walkers. In the woods. Gimme a minute." He turns again an' takes me back to our room. I hear Michonne ask if I'm bitten an' feel as he swallows hard. He doesn't answer her. We get into the room as he gently sets me down on the bed. He won't look at me, just squeezes my shoulder an' tells me to stay.
I hear them speakin' out there. Daryl raises his voice a few times, but I can't make out what they're sayin'. I just start to pull off my jeans to assess my cuts when the bedroom door opens. Those blue eyes won't meet mine as he slowly approaches, the door closin' quietly behind him. He doesn't say anything to me. His hands grab mine as he pulls me to my feet. He falls to his knees in front of me, his fingers work at the button an' zipper of my jeans an' he gently slides them down my legs. I lift each foot as he pulls my boots off, my hands on his shoulders for balance. He won't look up at me, only at my bare legs. The first words he says are barely audible.
"Were you bitten?" I can't find my own voice, so I shake my head. He still doesn't look at me. When I can speak, it's hoarse.
"No."
"Scratched?" His tone is flat.
"Only by thorns. I swear." I see his shoulders relax, fallin' forward. Faster than I can notice, his arms wrap tightly 'round my waist, his face rests against my stomach. I don't know what else to do, so my fingers gently massage into his hair. He's shakin'. My voice's as soft as I can manage. "Daryl, it's alright. I'm okay. You're okay. We're both fine." He pulls away from me an' stands. His eyes are bloodshot, I hadn't noticed that when he came in. I see the wet streaks on his cheeks. He rubs at his eyes roughly before his hands hold my face. His voice is still so quiet when he speaks. The sound breaks my heart.
"There's only a few times in my life I've ever been so afraid. When I found Merle after he died. When the prison fell. The night you were taken right out from under me. Findin' you on that basement floor. The man holdin' you at gunpoint." He sighs an' I mean to say somethin', but he goes on. "When I saw that fuckin' walker grab your leg, I was afraid. When it pulled you right outta my arms, I was terrified. He coulda bitten you. You coulda..." He can't finish the sentence. Now I'm the one lookin' at the floor. I'm ashamed of the trouble I always find myself in an' I hate myself for hurtin' him. The gentle brushin' of his thumb against my cheek makes me wanna cry. I refuse to look at him. His hand grabs my chin, pullin' on it until I'm lookin' into those stormy eyes. My heart hammers away, the tears betray me.
"You're alright?" I can't speak, so I only nod. That's all it takes. His hands are in my hair, his tongue pushes through my lips. At first, I'm frozen, but I can feel him gently coaxin' me to respond. When my fingers pull through his hair he moans into my mouth. He lifts me up, my hands on his shoulders as he wraps my legs 'round him.
For a second, I think he's gonna lay us on the bed, but he moves just past the mattress an' pushes me against the wall. He breaks our kiss, sets me down on my own feet for a moment as he slips my underwear down my legs, then pulls my shirt over my head. He slides off his vest an' pulls off his own shirt. I pull his lips back to mine as I hear him undo his buckle, unzip his jeans. He lifts me up again an' I cling to his neck. He looks me in the eyes as he speaks to me.
"I'll die before I ever let anything happen to you." When his lips trail down my throat I glance up an' see our reflection in the mirror across the room. His jeans hang on his hips. My arms an' legs twisted 'round his back. I see his scars, see his muscles flex as he pushes my thighs further apart. His voice is a rumble from his chest as he speaks into my ear.
"I love you so fuckin' much, Beth. Jesus Christ." Then he pushes in me with a sharp intake of breath. It's not like this mornin' or last night. There's no hesitation, he doesn't treat me like I'm made of glass. This is so primal, so possessive. I sigh as his hips roll into mine, his rhythm is at a quick pace. When he buries his face into my neck again to stifle his moanin', I look back to our reflection. I watch his sinewy back flex with each thrust. His hand pulls mine off his shoulder, pins it to the wall by my head as he locks our fingers together. I turn my face to his, let out a sigh an' breathe into his ear.
"I'll always love you, Daryl."
His lips find mine again, an' we lose ourselves in each other.