AN: Here we go, another chapter.
This one is longer than usual. I got a little carried away. Sorry!
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Carol felt almost like an entirely different person as she showered off using more soap and shampoo than she'd ever consider necessary under different circumstances. Jenner might have told them to take it easy on the hot water, but the showers in the little bathroom complex had run almost nonstop since they'd all eaten.
The meal had been the biggest and best that Carol could remember in the longest time. She was actually full and it felt strange to her. She'd also had at least two glasses of wine and had half a bottle in her room in addition to the full glass that was sitting on the sink area just outside her shower to wait for her when she got out.
Everyone else had gone through and taken their showers and Carol had begrudged no one the time that they'd taken and the care they'd likely put into cleaning up. She took time to shave even. It was an activity that normally she hated, but not having had the option before made it so wonderful now that she was careful to shave absolutely every bit of hair that she could think of off of her body to simply enjoy the fact that she had the opportunity to do so now.
This place, it seemed, was going to offer them exactly what Rick had said it would. Even if it didn't have answers for them, and even if there was no cure for the Walkers that were outside the building they were now calling home, at least they were going to live there forever in safety and not have to be concerned about the insanity outside.
Sophia was asleep in the couch that Carol had made up into a bed for her. For once, and hopefully for once in a long line of nights, Sophia could sleep soundly…absolutely soundly…and Carol could know that she was safe. She was safe from Ed and she was safe from Walkers.
It was a wonderful feeling and it was invigorating to Carol.
When she finally switched off the water from her shower, she opened the door and stepped out, suddenly realizing that in her excitement to be clean she'd forgotten a towel. It didn't matter much anyway. The linen closet they were all pulling from was just around the corner in the small complex of showers.
Carol drank down another swallow of her wine and glanced at herself in the small, fogged mirror. She couldn't see much of herself there. Clearly the mirrors weren't for any large amount of primping. They were basically for emergency self-examination only.
But either the small mirrors lied and were kind to those who looked in them, or Carol actually felt like she looked better than she had since even before they'd begun to run for their lives. She had avoided, for so long, looking in mirrors because she was always met with a black eye or a busted lip…some sign of Ed's handiwork…and now that wasn't the case.
She wasn't beautiful, and she never would be, no matter what Alice might have her believe, but at least she looked better now.
Drip drying, Carol decided to go for her towel. She rounded the little corner and sucked in a breath of shock as she ran into someone else. She'd been expecting to be the only one in the area. She was the last awake…or at least that's what she'd thought.
And he stood there a moment obviously as surprised as she was. She felt like her reflexes weren't working at all because she was slower at covering herself than her brain wanted her arms to be and she turned sideways, trying to make herself disappear into the air.
He stood there still staring with the general expression of a deer caught in headlights.
Neither of them quite knew what to do at the moment. And then he extended an arm an offered her a towel in silence. Carol snatched it and muttered a thanks as she wrapped it around herself, her cheeks burning.
And suddenly she felt tears prickling at her eyes. It was the overwhelming experience of having been completely revealed to someone when you never wanted it to happen. He was wearing pants, at least, and carrying everything else as his hair still dripped the evidence of a recently finished shower onto his shoulders and down his chest.
"I'm sorry," he said, the first words that he'd offered.
Carol didn't move. She was frozen to her spot for the moment. He seemed nervous, like it had been him who was completely naked in front of someone instead of her.
"It's OK," she said. "You can stop staring now."
His eyes flicked toward the floor a moment and then back at her. Out of the pile of clothes and things cradled in his arm like a baby, he pulled an open bottle of whiskey that he'd apparently taken from the kitchen area and took a drink from it before he offered it to her.
She shook her head and he smiled. It was a warm smile, a crooked smile…and it was one that she didn't see too often from him though his older brother wore one with much more frequency.
"Take the edge off," he said. "You look like you gonna cry."
Carol felt like she was going to cry. It was one of the reasons that she wasn't speaking so much at the moment. She had the fear that if she opened her mouth she'd lose the strength she had to hold it back. She figured he was the kind of man who would think it was stupid to cry, though, especially over embarrassment.
"I'm fine," she said quickly.
He pushed the bottle at her again.
"Here…just don't get too excited," he said. "It's strong."
She could smell his breath from where she stood. He'd had more than a taste of the beverage already. And that in itself surprised her. She was used to Ed, someone who drank and raged at the world for everything, and now Daryl was standing in front of her, obviously having already nursed the bottle for a little while, and it seemed, if anything, to make him nicer.
"I have wine," she said.
"You still gonna cry?" He asked.
Carol shook her head. The feeling had passed now. Her cheeks weren't even burning quite so hot.
"No," she said. "I'm not."
He smiled again and laughed to himself.
"Done its job, then," he said, tipping the bottle up to take another sip from it.
"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?" Carol asked.
And for another moment, Daryl did just that.
"You're…uh...kinda in my way," Daryl commented, pointing over her shoulder. She realized that to get to the exit of the small shower complex he'd have to walk right where she was standing. She had run into him trying to get back to his room. She truly was in his way.
"Oh," Carol breathed out, backtracking into the space where she'd showered, the door open to the small passageway he had to pass down. He hesitated and then walked, somewhat awkwardly, by the door. "Daryl?" She called, wrapping her towel tighter around her.
He stopped and turned entirely so that he was facing her dead on, now blocking the door to the small room that was her bathroom for the moment.
"Yeah?" He asked.
Carol chewed her lip.
"Do me a favor?" She asked. "Don't tell anyone…you saw me?"
Daryl stepped another step into the small space and Carol held her ground. He was looking at her like he could still see through her towel, or like he was trying to.
He nodded his head slightly.
"Nothin' ta be ashamed of," he muttered in a voice low enough that Carol might not have heard it if she wasn't basically reading his lips as he spoke.
She swallowed.
He seemed hesitant to go, or either he was waiting to be dismissed, and Carol was struck by the words in addition to that. The way he was watching her, now leaned with his back against the wall, Carol felt herself overcome with a feeling that she hadn't felt in a very long time…at least not when standing face to face with a half dressed man.
The feeling she knew well was lust. It was nothing more than that. It wasn't some profound feeling of love or admiration. She felt like she wanted to touch the man in front of her…the man that seemed to be nervously contemplating the same thing about her…she wanted to be touched by him.
But they were trapped in a standoff that was so awkward that Carol could feel the tension hanging in the air around her.
He could be that much of a gentleman that he wouldn't "take advantage" of this situation. Or he could be inexperienced enough that he didn't know what to do or if she wanted him to do anything. Or he could simply not be interested.
Carol reached and got her glass of wine. Daryl still didn't move other than to sip again from his bottle. He seemed content to stay right there or stuck in place…one or the other.
And she, Carol Ann McAlister, who had once had big dreams…before she'd ever married Ed…of being some kind of sultry seductress, but had no real claim to fame, wished she knew how to seduce the man standing in front of her. She'd never seduced Ed, even, though, and she wasn't sure that what she did with Alice…complete with pinky promise and basically the request that she have sex with her…counted as seduction.
She drank a swallow of her wine, put the glass down and stepped toward Daryl.
He didn't move other than the bobbing of his throat as he swallowed. She reached a hand out, touched his chest just barely, and stilled when she felt him tense and his muscles flex. She put the other hand on his chest, noticing his increase in breathing.
The small knot she'd made in her towel wasn't going to last long free of her hands to hold it in place and Carol knew that if rejected her now she was going to be mortified, and just as naked as she'd been before.
She moved to kiss him and he kissed her back. It was a timid kiss between them at first, and then it became something more.
Daryl put his free arm around her then, the cradled pile of clothes still between them, and Carol felt her towel slip. She pulled out of the kiss, her body against his, and looked at him, biting her lip.
"If you want to do this," she said, her lungs almost seizing up at her nervousness for the moment, "then I want to do this. I'm about to lose my towel, though."
She laughed to herself, keeping her eyes locked on his.
"So if you don't want to, then I'd like to catch it in time," she finished.
He smiled at her, a little more relaxed than before. He moved his hand and Carol felt the hard jerk as he grabbed her towel with the free hand and jerked it loose, letting it drop on the floor behind her. Then he stared at her, almost like he was challenging her. So she backed up, took the pile from his hands, and put it in the sink with her own clothes, his bottle going beside her now abandoned glass.
Carol looked at his pants, but she didn't say anything. He took the hint and popped the button, shimmying out of them to reveal that he wasn't wearing underwear. It must be in the pile with everything else.
She blushed but held back on the feeling. She wasn't any good at this…she really wasn't…but she wanted to be right now.
She bit her lip and stroked him, watching as his face changed and he closed his eyes to her a moment. She took his hand and guided it to her breast. Once he touched her, he seemed to know what to do, because he squeezed her breast and ducked his head to kiss her.
And after a moment he groaned in her ear and then pulled away. As a forgotten thing, Carol realized the door to the small bathroom was open and she closed it. When she turned back to find him, he had spread her fallen towel out on the floor. He snickered when his eyes followed hers.
"Best I could do," he said.
Carol smiled.
"I think it'll be alright," she said. She expected him to offer her the towel. She expected him to wait for her to take her place, silently, on the floor so that he could take his over her.
What she didn't expect was what he did. He was the one who took the floor and he reached a hand out to her.
She bit her lip and shook her head. His brow furrowed.
"Changed ya fuckin' mind already?" He asked. His voice sounded like he'd been betrayed. It wasn't quite anger, but there was a flicker of something there, disappointment perhaps.
Carol shook her head quickly.
"No, but…I'm not good at that. I don't know how to…" she stopped. She just didn't know how to be on top. She didn't know that position with Ed. It wasn't one that he liked and therefore she didn't suggest it.
But Daryl reached, caught her wrist hard, and pulled her toward him.
"Floor's dirty," he commented.
And Carol nearly tumbled onto him, not as steady on her feet as she might have wanted to be, but she accepted then that he wasn't going to discuss this with her. This was how they were doing this if they were doing it at all.
She was this far in, she might as well. So she took her position and did the best she could. And Daryl didn't seem to complain. He didn't complain at all. And it wasn't long before she wasn't complaining either. She lost even the ability to worry about and fret over how bad she thought she might at be at this and how much she might disappoint him.
Because it really didn't matter…even if it was the worst ever, it was simply scratching an itch. It was simply giving into something she wanted to give into and, hopefully, offering him a little something too. It was appreciating his body and showing, perhaps, a little appreciation for his kindness.
When it was done, Carol held her position for a moment. She leaned against him while he leaned with his back against the wall enough to support him. She dared to kiss him and to receive his kiss in return, and then she finally pulled away and gained her feet, going for her discarded washcloth to clean up. He silently requested it for himself and she passed it to him before she started to dress in that same guarded silence.
The awkwardness of before that seemed to have left the room had returned and it had done so tenfold.
As Carol put clothes on her body, she felt like she was also robing herself in insecurity and embarrassment again. She couldn't believe what she'd done…how she was acting. She was ashamed. This wasn't how she should act and she never should have done that because she was far too old for such foolishness and she couldn't very well expect to subject Daryl to the pinky promise.
He dressed in silence too. Carol glanced at him once or twice, obviously caught up in his thoughts, though she couldn't imagine what he might be thinking at the moment. He probably had a lot of material to work with after what she'd just done.
She thought it looked as though he might be blushing some. He pulled his clothes from the sink and put on a shirt to go with the pants that he'd been content to wear alone earlier. She wondered if it was because of the hateful scars on his back. She wondered if he'd been only going without the shirt because he believed that he was alone…and that was why he'd tried so hard to keep his back to the wall, not realizing that her fingertips could read them like braille.
Carol didn't know how to escape the bathroom or what to say or do. If Daryl told everyone then she'd be mortified, but she earned it, she supposed…the thrill her body had just felt gone now in the wake of her worry.
He picked up his bottle when he'd finished dressing, piled the leftover clothing items back in the crook of one arm, and then picked up her wine glass and offered it to her. He stood there, chewing his lip and looking at her for a second, and then he touched his knuckles to her face, slid them gently down, and hooked his finger under her chin. When he lifted her face to him, he kissed her, short and quick, on the lips.
And then he slipped out the bathroom and down the little hall, leaving Carol to gather the rest of her things and go to bed…not sure what the morning might hold for both of them living in this new little world they'd found with something like this between them.