Gasp! Only a day in between updates, yay! I said I was going to try and update more frequently, didn't I? This update I guess is a bit of "filler", or maybe just a nice somewhat-fluffy segue before the action picks up again. Hope you enjoy!

Beth knew, as she figured everyone still living in this world knew, that the old way of life was gone. So many things once considered simple pleasures or even day to day givens were now just relics of the past, or luxuries, fond memories or useless old traditions. But knowing that didn't stop her from thinking of those things still, or from dreamily applying them to her current situation.

She was no longer an innocent and naive teenage girl who could lay on her stomach on her childhood bed and kick her legs in the air as she scribbled loopy love notes in her diary and drew little hearts around it all. Not just because that journal was long gone and the one she had found in the time after had been lost too, left abandoned in the dirt outside the funeral home that had provided a few brief shining moments of it's own. No, because time had moved on and left that life beyond. Because she had moved on and left that girl behind.

But she could still remember being that girl. She could still imagine what she might do if she was that girl. In the wake of the kiss in the midst of the pecan grove she could imagine giggling over it in the privacy of her room, summarizing it in her journal in a curly handwriting with each heart dotted by a perfect little heart. She could imagine herself sneaking some of the pecan shells away and putting them in that little box she kept under her bed. It had sat there since she was a kid, originally just a plain shoe box that was later decorated with flowers and inspirational words cut out from magazines and pasted on by hand, dotted with sparkly stickers acquired some time after.

Into that box she had placed things that had meant something to her. A broken broach in the shape of a dove, that had once belonged to her Memaw. A posy of flowers given to her by Jimmy when they were younger, pressed and dried out and safely tucked into a plastic bag. Her first diary, filled with more stickers and doodles than words, the edges of it worn and stained from her sticky childhood fingers. A small leather bag filled with shiny rocks, a mix tape she'd made when she was twelve, a folded up note from Savannah (her best friend when she was 13) telling her that she thought Hartley Johnson had a crush on her.

That box was gone now. Or maybe it was still there. Maybe the farmhouse hadn't burned up in the blaze that had taken the barn. Maybe the box was still sitting there collecting dust under her metal-framed bed with it's warm white comforter, keeping company with her teddy bear still perched on the pillows. Maybe some day someone would find it and look through it and to them it would all just be junk. It wouldn't have the same meaning it had for her.

She knew deep inside that just because the box was physically gone didn't mean she didn't have some part of inside, in her heart and in her memories. There was a box there much like it, still being filled every day. As she sat in the mill, wrapped in a blanket sitting by the warm iron stove, she opened that box and slipped a new memory into it. A memory that smelled like chestnuts and cooling late-summer air, but also of leather and sweat and a slight hint of the copper of blood. It was a scent that was irrevocably linked to Daryl in her mind now, along with so many other things. The rough gravel of his voice, the fall of his dark hair over his eyes, the twang of a releasing bolt from his crossbow, his sure and silent stride through the woods… and now, his warmth. His nearness, the weight of his hands on her hips lifting her up or drawing him close, the heft of his arm across her shoulder as she leaned on him in sleep.

And his lips. Lord, she could not stop thinking about his lips. Slightly dry but warm and firm, the press of them sending shivers through her, flushing her with heat even in memory. Kissing him twice had been incredible. Being kissed by him was practically indescribable and not simply because she had never imagined it could happen, though that was part of it.

All that and more she placed neatly into that box in her heart, as if her memories were physical objects she could gently set into place beside a bag of shiny stones and an old diary. If they had been, Beth knew these memories would have sparkled and shone perhaps more than anything she had ever treasured before. Every memory of him would have, from the first time he drove up to the farm, through the night they'd burned up that old shack, to the day he'd carried her away from the almost-death and back into the safety of the woods.

Maybe even this, too. The sight of him coming hesitantly over to her, dropping his bag on the ground before casually lowering himself to the floor beside her. He offered her a hint of a smile that she returned even fully and more warmly; partially because she knew that he might need that reassurance but also because frankly these days, she couldn't help but want to smile when she saw him.

As he drew up his knees and settled his bag between his legs, Daryl darted a glance over at her and asked, "Warming yourself up?"

"Mmm. I'm warmer already." The September air was far from cold, but it was getting cooler each night it seemed. They had stayed out till sunset, coming back with their scavenged supplies from the first house before heading out again to check the other farmhouses in the area, and the air had grown cool by the time they barricaded the mill door and climbed back upstairs.

On the plus side they'd only seen one or two walkers, stragglers it seemed, and from the three farmhouses they'd checked in total today they'd ended up with a good-sized stash. The second had been somewhat trashed; though it looked more like the owners had done it themselves in their rush to escape. The third had been almost untouched, boarded up like the first but abandoned as well. This one hadn't told quite as obvious a story as the pecan farmhouse, though. Beth could only guess that the people holed up in it had just moved on at some point; there were no walkers roaming the halls, and some of the leftover supplies still remained.

These were the bulk of what Daryl pulled out of his bag now, adding to their neatly stacked cans and jars set up in front of them like a display. "Gonna get even colder soon," he remarked, "Good thing we found them sweaters, at that first place. Should keep an eye out for coats though, in the next month or so. Might need 'em."

"Yeah," Beth mused, reaching out to grab the can he'd pulled from his bag. She turned it slowly in her hand, inspecting the worn label; it was beans, which were nothing new, but the best sort of protein they'd have, unless their plan to try and wait out a deer at the pecan farm worked out tomorrow. "I remember. After the farm and before the prison… lord, it was so cold. All of us sleeping all tucked together for warmth."

Those days every night had ended in a huddle of bodies, no thought given to propriety or personal space when the warmth of someone's body next to yours was the one thing keeping off the chill of the encroaching winter. Suddenly her eyes strayed to him and a flush stained her cheeks at the realization that there was no group anymore, just the two of them. If she was gonna cuddle up for warmth with anyone, it'd be Daryl… and the truth was that Beth didn't mind the idea of that one bit. Heck she was practically already doing it every night, since the herd had come through.

Clearing her throat she flashed him a playful grin, deflecting any awkwardness with an attempt to tease him, "Maybe we can find you another poncho. Such a good look on you, after all…"

"Hey." He nudged her arm with his and though he tried to sound scolding, just meeting his eyes filled Beth with that same bubbling, fluttering sort of warmth. She had a feeling she wasn't the only one, judging by the way the deep ocean blue of his eyes warmed and darkened as he went on, "You pokin' fun at my poncho?"

"Me? Never!" A giggled bubbled free as she said it, but she was just teasing him. The truth was, it was far from unpleasant remembering him wearing that poncho. Probably because it also involved remembering him on the back of his bike, the fabric blowing in the wind or settling across his body as he straddled the vibrating motorcycle and… and now she was all flushed again, ducking her head but smiling up at him as she added, "I liked that poncho. I wanted to steal it, you know. Or borrow it. But Maggie told me you'd have bit my head off for even asking, so I never tried."

"Hm." He grunted out a reply to that and turned his attention back to the bag in his hand, pulling out a couple more cans as well as a flashlight and some spare batteries, and the most exciting find of the run: a solar-powered camping lantern. Daryl had snatched that up instantly, inspecting it from all angles before giving what she thought of as his 'pleased grunt' and attaching it by a hook to his backpack so it could absorb some sunlight on the way back to the mill. Now he toyed with it again, turning it in his hands and inspecting it another time over. "Might not've said no." His voice was quiet when he spoke, catching her by surprise and not just because of his admission. "Always wondered how you didn't freeze every night. So damn tiny and bony."

As she watched he flipped the switch, and the slow response of the lights turning up within the lantern had the rumble of his pleased grunt going through him again even as he turned it off. "Hey," Beth murmured, mimicking him as she nudged her arm against his and waited until he looked up at her and met her eyes to ask, "Should I be offended that you think I'm bony and tiny, Mr. Dixon?"

"Nah." He didn't even hesitate, just looked right into her eyes and shook his head. "You ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of. You bein' tiny ain't a bad thing."

"Oh no?"

Now she raised her eyebrows curiously, and was oddly delighted to see him get flustered, the tips of his ears turning pink as he stumbled over a response, "I mean, s'nice. Y'know, for all this. You can, ah… slip in and out of places better, and, uh… it's just…"

"Nice?" Maybe she was being too wicked teasing him, watching him get all unsure until he coughed and started to look away. That was what drew her in again, had her leaning into him until the length of her arm pressed against his and she could look up at him and smile as she whispered, "I'm glad you think it's nice."

And then, just so he wouldn't feel any more awkward than he already had, Beth smoothly changed the subject by reaching out to the lantern to add brightly, "And I'm glad we found this. Now maybe we can read at night…"

"Valentina watched the brave knight walk away from her down the long corridor of the manor. There was simply something about the stretch of his broad shoulders beneath his doublet that made her breath come short and her bosom heave, swelling over the low embroidered neckline of her gown…"

"Probably cause she's got that damn gown on too tight." Daryl's grunted words cut off Beth, who turned to furrow her brow at him.

"Daryl!"

"What?" A corner of his lip lifted in a hint of a smirk, because he could see the amusement in her eyes even though she was trying to look stern. She had a way of doing that, trying to scold him even when every other inch of her was trying not to laugh. In an effort to coax up that laughter he liked to hear so much, Daryl went on, "Damn book spent like three paragraphs on her corset being laced, sounded to me like she's strapped into the damn thing. No wonder she's…" He waved his hand vaguely around his chest area, "...swelling over her neckline and shit."

"She's swelling, or whatever, because watching him makes her breath come short!" Beth blinked, and a giggle spilled from her lips. It was even better than he'd imagined. It always was. "Okay so maybe it's also because of the tight corset and the gown and everything, but it's definitely from watching him too…"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head and shifted beside her. They were sitting side by side again, her thigh pressed to his and her arm against his side while he had his palm resting on the ground behind her so it was almost like he had his arm around her. "Pretty sure it's just the corset. If they were all passing out left and right back in the day, it was because they probably just needed to breathe." He snorted, another smirk hovering on his lips as he added, "I bet all them men thought they were being swooned over…"

"Oh, come on." Beth settled the pastel pink paperback in her lap and turned a little bit more towards him, resting against her hip as she looked up into his eyes. "Haven't you ever, you know… seen someone that just took your breath away?" She'd been laughing, but her expression soon grew more seriously, her voice softer and more distant, almost breathy. "Like being around them just made it harder to breathe? Like your breath came a little shorter just from thinking about them, or watching them or… or looking into their eyes?"

Daryl was gonna say no, or maybe make some joke about how he ain't never worn a corset, so of course he'd never been breathless like that around someone. But that was a lie that was only outlined by the way he felt holding her gaze right there, looking into that deep blue and seeing the warm way she was looking back at him. His breath felt tight in his chest and he could see hers hitching too, visible in the rise and fall of her shoulders though he didn't dare look down and see if her chest was heaving. He didn't dare. Although looking into her eyes wasn't much better given that they were full of the sort of emotions that only made his chest feel tighter, only made him remember earlier today out beneath those pecan trees and how he'd finally given in to the desire to kiss her again.

Filled with that same sort of boldness, or something similar anyway, Daryl raised one eyebrow and asked daringly, "Have you ever been breathless like that?"

His thought had been to fluster her right back, to see her breath hitch again and her cheeks flush pink. He got that, sure enough (and lord was she even prettier all flushed pink like that) but he'd forgotten for a second that tendency Beth had to meet every challenge he set at her, even playful teasing ones. She didn't back down, when it came to him.

He was reminded of that right then as she kept her eyes firmly locked with his and murmured back with a soft smile, "Oh yes. Especially recently."

Daryl was pretty sure that might have stolen the air right from his lungs, and lord knew what he might've said next if he could have figured out what to say at all. But before he could even attempt to fumble for words, Beth was turning her gaze back down to the book in her lap, a smile lingering on her lips as she teased, "But I hope if I do swoon at any point you'll be there to catch me, Mr. Dixon." She flashed him a quick look, and giggled, "Just don't let it go to your head."

At first he just snorted in response, knowing he didn't need to say more than that considering how good she was these days at reading his expressions. Despite how she'd flustered him, some of that boldness remained and he knew it came from that same place of clarity he'd felt earlier today out in the pecan grove. It had been a clarity he had only known in certain things before, like hunting and tracking. The whole goddamn world could turn him upside down and make him feel like retreating in on himself, but when he was out in the woods following the tracks of a deer or a rabbit, it was like everything just became clear. He knew what to do, and the path in front of him was just an easy, straight line.

When he was around Beth sometimes it was like being hit in the chest by a battering ram. She could knock him ass over heels with just one look from those blue bambi eyes, leave his head spinning and his tongue stammering to find the right words. But not always. Slowly he was finding that there were times with her when the haze would clear, and he would feel that same sense of certainty about what to do. It wasn't always agreeing to burn down a shack, or chasing down a car with her inside. Sometimes it was tucking her up against his side when she was trembling with nightmares, or crossing the pecan-strewn grass between them and pressing his lips to hers in a kiss.

Othertimes, it was this: lifting his arm slowly but surely to settle it around her shoulder and draw her against his side. It was her voice, hesitating for only a moment before a smile crossed her lips and she began to read on again, her melodious voice just a little bit warmer as she read out the lines of the book in her lap, all the while leaning against his side.

Sure, her nearness still made things a bit hazy, still made his breathing hitch. But his desire to keep her close despite all that? Well that was crystal clear.

The day had dawned brightly, though there were clouds in the distance that hinted at rain to come; probably not today but maybe late tomorrow, at least by Daryl's guess. He spent a little time studying the sky and their surroundings as Beth filled their water bottles once more and added them back to their bags, both packed with supplies just in case. He'd thought about getting up before dawn to head out, knowing that dawn and dusk were the best time to catch deer out feeding, but they needed what sleep they could get these days.

Besides it was the beginning of fall now, which meant it was more likely to find deer feeding even during the day. If they got there mid-day they could spend some time picking up more pecans, settling in to watch, and making plans for what was to come in the next few days.

Beth had even brought some books along, tucking them into the black backpack she had strapped to her back. He wasn't gonna lie, he was kinda glad the romance book wasn't in there. Not because he hated it, but because there was no goddamn way in hell that he'd be able to focus on keeping his eye out for deer when Beth was reading that. Even last night they'd had to stop, when the heaving bosoms turned to passionate embraces and kisses and the lifting of layered petticoats and skirts. Suddenly they'd both been flustered and flushed, and thank the lord for Beth's ability to deftly change the subject to their plans for today, because otherwise he'd probably have stammered out something ridiculous.

Now they headed back to the pecan farm, just as they'd planned last night. The plan was to sweep the area just in case and then settle in on the back porch, which had a perfect few of the pecan grove. Not only would it be a good place to set-up and watch, but it'd be a good place for Beth to sit and rest a bit, too. She'd done well keeping up with him yesterday on their trips to all three of the farms they'd checked, but she hadn't tried to hide the fact that her ankle was feeling a bit tender after all that walking.

Sure enough she exhaled a little relieved sigh as she settled down onto the steps of the farmhouse's back porch and stretched out her leg in front of her. Gently lowering her splinted wrist into her lap, she looked up at him with a faint smile as he hesitated only a moment and then dropped down beside her, just one step higher on the stairs. "You know if it wasn't for my wrist, I'd ask if maybe I could be the one to try for the shot, you know… if the deer shows up." She crinkled up her nose and gave a soft sigh. "But I can barely hold your bow with my wrist injured. Even on my good arm, it's a bit shaky."

His grunt was his only reply; at least audibly. His gaze had been moving before she was even halfway done speaking, shifting from her wrist to their surrounding. Maybe she could prop it somewhere to take the shot, mount the bow on the railing in place of her arm…

Sensing her eyes lingering on him still caused Daryl to come out of his focused haze with a rumbling cough to clear his throat. "Reckon we might be able to figure somethin' out, you know… if you want."

"Daryl…" The expression on her face was a mix of pleased and reproving as she went on, "Getting this deer is important, you know? I don't wanna mess it up because I try taking the shot with my injured arm and miss…"

"You won't miss." He didn't even hesitate. He didn't have to. "I trust you."

There was no hint of anything reproving in the expression that flashed across her face at that. It was every bit of it full with pride, and pleasure, and joy… and a pretty pink flush that stole across her cheeks before she ducked her head and nodded into her lap.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments; Beth pulling her back into her lap to draw out her water bottle and take a sip, and Daryl settling his crossbow into his lap, checking over it habitually.

"So I was thinkin'," he said after a few moments, keeping his gaze focused on the bow in his lap as he jiggled the riser to make sure it didn't move on it's own and then inspecting the bowstring for any sign of wear. "In a couple days, maybe we could start heading towards Terminus. Take it slow so we hopefully don't run into that herd, get close enough to scope the place out…" Only then did he glance over at her, studying the line of her jaw as she kept her head down and focused on her lap, where she was now toying with her bone-handled knife. "Unless you wanna change the plan. Cause we don't have to go there, if you don't wanna anymore."

Though she had been avoiding his gaze it was as if his final words hooked their way into her, drawing her up until she looked into his eyes again. There were several moments of just silence, Beth peering into his eyes as he looked right back into hers. There had been a time when he had shied away from eye contact like this; where like a nervous horse he'd have ducked his head, or grunted and looked away. Now he didn't mind keeping his gaze open for her; didn't mind allowing her to peer into him and see what she needed to see right now. He couldn't be entirely sure what she was looking for but he had a feeling it was some sort of confirmation or reassurance. Maybe she was looking for honesty, looking to make sure he meant it that they didn't have to go to Terminus, that they could make another plan; could go wherever she wanted to go.

He did mean it. Of course he did. They'd already decided that they were the priority now, above all else.

Whatever she was searching for, Beth seemed to find it. After a few moments more she nodded, slowly but then more firmly. Her gaze dropped back down to her lap again but it was with purpose rather than reluctance that she steadily picked up her knife and began to clean it with the rag she kept in her backpack. "We should go to Terminus. If we don't… I think we'll always wonder, you know? We should at least try. And after that…"

Picking up the trailing tail of her words, Daryl reached out at the same time to settle his hand on her shoulder and give it a light squeeze. "After that, we'll see."

The pressure of his hand lingered as she looked up and met his eyes with a soft but understanding smile and repeated, "After that we'll see."

They found ways to keep busy for the rest of the day. In part they made more plans for their journey; how they might be extra cautious heading towards Terminus with the threat of the walkers, how they would keep near to the tracks despite the risk if only to look for signs from their family. If Beth's expression had faltered at her own suggestion of that, the sorrow hadn't lasted long. Another squeeze of his hand to his shoulder and she was relaxing, even smiling as his hand brushed down her back and came to rest on the rough wood of the step behind her.

A couple times they quietly patrolled the perimeter of the pecan farm, checking to make sure no walkers were visible approaching in the distance and also just to keep themselves moving for a bit. In between, accented by the birds chirping in the trees above, Beth filled the silence with her soft voice as she read from one of the books they'd borrowed from the very home whose porch they sat on. This one had been Daryl's choice; another in the series of action books about the roaming former marine.

Apparently the former owner of the farmhouse had been a fan of the books too, and if Daryl's pleasure at that discover didn't seem obvious in his mild smile, it was still mirrored in the delight that had flashed across Beth's face. This one seemed to be the second in the series, and the story involving the main character being accidentally kidnapped along with the intended target provided plenty of action to keep them occupied throughout the day.

"You know what I think?" Beth's question came late that afternoon as she set down the book to take a sip from her bottle of water. "I think these books are kinda like the male version of the romance novels."

Daryl's grunt was his version of a 'what?' in response, one that had Beth chuckling as she looked over at him and went on,"I mean, come on. Instead of all the heaving bosoms and passionate kisses you've got these dramatic fight scenes and guns being shot off and stabbing knives and people fighting" She punctuated her explanation with dramatic movements of her hands, mimicking being stabbed to the chest before flashing him another grin. "Plus, the women almost always seem to have a thing for this guy, haven't you noticed that?"

"Beth-" Though he'd started off listening to her words with amusement, Daryl's attention had been distracted by movement in the pecan trees beyond.

"I mean I get it. He's like the knight in that other book, with the broad shoulders and rippling chest muscles…"

Daryl reached out towards her, searching for her arm without tearing his gaze away. "Beth."

"And you know, who isn't a fan of a pair of nice, broad shoulders like…"

"Beth." His fingers found purchase, curling over her shoulder until she broke off and turned her attention to him at his whispered utterance of her name one final time.

"Daryl, what-"

But all he had to do was point off into the pecan grove, and in a second Beth had gone silent. Because just there, making it's way cautiously through the trees and pausing to lean forward and lip at the shell-covered ground, was the doe they'd been waiting for all day.

It was imperative that they move slowly and avoid startling it. The doe, it's tawny fur appearing more reddish in the late sunlight, was still far enough away that if they were careful it wouldn't notice them. The rows of trees between them provided some camouflage that would also be of assistance, but even still Daryl was cautious as he moved slowly to his feet inch by inch until he came to a stop. He held his hand palm out towards Beth, who stayed as stock still as the deer itself off in the distance.

Only when the doe began to move again to feed on the nuts at her feet did Daryl lower his hand and give Beth a nod. She was just as careful getting up as he had been, taking it nice and easy until she was standing up straight on the porch. He'd had all day to think about this, so he didn't need to make any last minute decisions in the moment. In measured easy movements, he placed a bolt in the crossbow and drew it back into place until it was loaded. Only then did he make his way to the railing, perching the crossbow gently on top of it.

He didn't speak, just gave a silent nod of his head towards the blonde-haired girl who had waited patiently, her gaze moving from him to the deer and back again. Words weren't needed between the two of them in moments like this. She read the cues of his body, the instructions given in the lift of an arm or the nod of a head. With silent steps she came up to the crossbow and shifted her position, leaning over so she could peer down the bow while using the railing to provide the steady mounting surface that she couldn't currently manage with her injured arm.

As she settled into place, Daryl's hand slid up her back. There you go, his hand reassured her as she steadied her grip and her breathing began to slow. His hand brushed in a slow circle on her back, reminding her to breathe in nice and slow. Take the time, line up the shot… He leaned in with her but didn't hover, showing her he trusted her implicitly, believed in her without any need to micromanage. He knew she could do it. She'd done it even with her arm injured, resting the bow on her uninjured arm to take the shot and down her first rabbit.

She probably could have done that now with her arm still injured, but neither of them wanted to risk it. Not with something as important as this. So she use the railing as support instead and focused all her efforts on lining up the shot as the deer came into perfect view beneath one of the nearby rows of pecan trees.

Yet again their breathing synced up. He could feel it in the rise and fall of her back beneath his hand as they seemed to think and act as one:Inhale… exhale… inhale…. exhale…. inhale and sight… exhale and take the shot. His trigger finger twitched just as hers pulled for real and with his breath all caught in his chest he watched as the bolt sliced through the afternoon air and hit home right in the perfect spot on the doe's side, sending it tumbling to the ground.

Just like the bolt's path had been perfectly straight, so were the thoughts in Daryl's mind as Beth stood up, so excited that her body seemed to quiver with it. She turned to face him and when their eyes met and he felt the air hitch in his lungs, he didn't hesitate. He took that clear path right to it's destination, reaching out for her hips and drawing her close to press her lips to his.

This time was different than the soft kiss beneath the pecan tree. This time as he drew her close she slid her arms over his shoulders and pressed their bodies together; the soft slender curves of her body fitting themselves to the hard lines of his own. The kiss was slow at first but it deepened as her lips parted against his, and when he heard her give a soft breathy moan against his mouth it nearly undid him. It was enough to make his hands curl tighter against her jean-clad hips, enough for him to tug her even closer and groan lightly into her mouth as he kissed her until he was so breathless he had to pull back just to fill his lungs with a deep gasp of air.

For a moment they just stood there looking at each other, both of them dragging in panting, deep breaths until finally Beth broke the silence. "See?" She smiled at him, slow and sweet and playful all at the same time. "You do know what I meant, about someone making you breathless."

Daryl just shook his head but this time rather than just a quirk of his mouth, there was a wry smile on his lips as he squeezed her hips and then stepped back. "C'mon, catch your breath Greene, and let's get to work on your first doe, alright?"

Daryl had never been the sentimental type. Never written down his thoughts in a journal, or had a box full of things he wanted to save. He'd never had anything he'd ever really wanted to save, besides his crossbow perhaps. But in the time since meeting Beth he had been saving things in his own sort of way. Memories that would become stories, shared between them or relished just in his mind.

Memories formed of moments like this. Beth taking down her first deer and turning to him with a fire of excitement lighting up her eyes. Her lips pressed to his and every line of her body, warm and soft but also so very strong, pressed against his.

They were also formed of moments like the one that followed, with Beth on her knees helping him to slice open a deer she'd brought down with her own hand, not balking from the task but joining into it so eagerly and with so much avid interest that he couldn't help but find it incredibly attractive and appealing.

In the end, his best memories were made from moments with Beth right at his side. Those were the kind of things he'd save. The kind of things he already was saving, every single day.

Next chapter... they start heading out towards Terminus. Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnn.

Also I wanted to thank you all again for continuing to read my fic. If you follow me on tumblr you'll know that lately I've been having a lot of anxiety and self doubt about my writing, and every lovely comment that gets left here always makes that so much easier to handle. Thank you! 3 I will do my best to update asap again!