I immediately started writing this after the episode last night. I needed to write Caryl after watching it! lol

Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

The kitchen was small and cramped and exactly what Carol had expected. Daryl probably did not spend much time in the room and didn't need the space to be large. She, on the other hand, spent most of her time in the big, airy kitchen at home. It was where she would sit and read or dream the hours away.

Daryl had stopped to watch her give the room a look over, just as he had when they had first walked into his home, and gnawed on his bottom lip. Carol wished that he wouldn't be so nervous around her and afraid that she would judge him harshly on the way he lived. That was not the kind of person she was and never had been. She knew she would have to show him that.

"So, um, do you like deer?" His voice sounded uncertain as he asked and his gaze focused on the worn table in the middle of the room.

"I've never had it before."

Daryl looked genuinely surprised and Carol nearly giggled at how fast his head had shot up at her admission. "Really?" She nodded. "Well, would you like to try some? I could, maybe, make us a stew."

Carol's stomach rumbled and about anything would have sounded good to her right then. "Sure, I'll try some. And if you're making a stew, I can help cut up the vegetables."

"You don't have to help," he said. "You're a guest."

"And your soon-to-be wife," she reminded him with a smile. Daryl's face flushed and his eyes flicked to the ring now resting on her finger. One of his hands grasped her left one and his thumb gently stroked the band.

"You're right." When his eyes met her's, she almost gasped at the love she saw in them. He smiled, then. "There are potatoes and carrots in the fridge. I'll get everythin' else you'll need."

Carol moved to get to work. "Sounds like a plan."

The pot simmered on the stove and Carol stood to stir it while Daryl sat at the small table and watched. They had been taking turns stirring for the past hour and a half and it was now, closer to supper time than lunch.

"I think it's almost done," Carol said and reclaimed her seat. "Good thing, too, because I'm starving."

"I really hope you like it, then." Daryl wasn't sure how he was going to deal if Carol didn't like the deer stew. It seemed like such a trivial thing, but hunting was the main way of getting food and what he had most stocked up was venison. He wouldn't know how else to provide for her.

"Hey." Carol slid a hand across the table to place over one of his. "Stop over thinking things. I'm pretty sure I'll like it and besides, I helped make it, so I have to like it."

Daryl could have sworn he had just fallen in love with Carol a second time. The woman was just so perfect...and why the hell would she agree to marry a guy like him? Shaking the thought from his mind, he stood up from the table.

"It should be about done, now. I'll get the bowls and silverware, and we could eat outside, if you want." Grabbing two bowls from the cupboard and two spoons from a drawer, he turned to look at her. "I usually eat out there when the weather is nice, but, of course, we don't gotta if you-"

Carol stood up. "I'd love to. Now," she walked over to the pot. "Hand me those bowls so we can eat."

"It's beautiful out here," Carol commented when she settled in one of the chairs on Daryl's porch. Though, Daryl didn't have garden like she did, Carol still found his backyard beautiful. The sun was peeking through the trees while on its way to set and it gave the leaves a golden hue. The fall air was a bit chilly, but Carol didn't mind.

Turning slightly, she set down the glass of milk she had in one hand on the table beside her and held the steaming bowl of sip in both. Her mouth watered at the smell and she couldn't wait to dig in.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed and sat in his own chair. "It's one of the reasons why I bought the place. Plus, it's away from everythin', just as I like it."

"Same here." Carol took a bite of the stew, then, and smiled after swallowing the first bite. "Yum. This is really good." She took another bite. Then, another.

Daryl chuckled as he watched her eat. "Well, like you said, you helped make it, so it had to be good."

"I just cut up a few vegetables and stirred the pot every once in awhile, everything else was you, Daryl." More stew went into her mouth. "I think I may have you come to my house every day so that you could cook for me." She winked at him.

"I-I could do that, if you want." He sounded unbelievably shy and Carol could tell that he wasn't use to getting this kind of praise. She found it enduring.

"How about when we're married, we'll split the cooking? Since, now, I know you can and all." She grinned and tried to ignore the fact that she had mentioned their marriage twice in the past hour and hadn't felt panicky.

"Sounds good," he mumbled and bent over his bowl, with the tips of his ears turning red.

After they finished their meal, Daryl stood to collect their dishes and then, head to his room to find a hoodie for Carol to wear. He had noticed her shivering, even though she hadn't mentioned that she was cold. On the way back outside, he was suddenly struck with how much they didn't know one another. Sure, as they ate, they had chatted about various things, but not once did Carol offer anything up about her life beforehand.

That was when he got an idea. Walking back into the kitchen, he grabbed the little notepad and pencil he kept by the fridge and walked back out to join Carol. She smiled gratefully when he handed her his hoodie and he watched as she put it on. Something stirred in him at seeing Carol wearing something of his.

"Thank you." Carol snuggled deeper into the chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. Daryl placed the pad of paper on the table beside them and she looked at it curiously.

"Uh, do you want to play a game?"

Carol's mouth tilted up in a half smile. "Sure. What kind of game?"

"Well, it's kind of a 'gettin' to know one another' game. Each of us writes down questions on a piece of paper, we put it in a bowl or somethin' and pick a paper out. For each question, both of us have to give an answer."

"So, what you're saying is, don't ask a question you don't want to answer?"

Daryl shrugged. "I guess you can put it that way. So, do you want to?"

"Okay!" She reached for the stack of little sheets of paper Daryl made for her and picked up a pencil. Daryl did the same and the porch grew quiet, except for the scratches of their pencils.

Several minutes later, they had a nice pile of folded papers and Daryl moved them all into a clean bowl he had retrieved from the kitchen. He held it out to Carol. "You first?"

"Okay." She made a grand show of closing her eyes and moving her hand through the pieces of paper. Many of the pieces spilled over the side and Daryl had to move fast to catch them. Finally, she shagged a piece and opened her eyes.

"Read it." He placed the bowl aside and waited to see if it was one of his questions.

"What's your favorite color?" That had been of one of hers.

"Green," he answered almost right away, even though he had almost blurted out 'the color of your eyes'. "Yours?"

"Blue. Dark blue to be exact." She placed the paper on the table and pushed the bowl toward him. "Your turn."

He picked up a slip. "How old are you?" Another one of her questions. "24. You?"

"106," she deadpanned.

"Well, damn." He chuckled. "You look mighty young for an old lady."

"Oh, you know, I use a lot of moisturizer and stuff." Carol laughed. "I'm actually 23."

"Now, that sounds about right. Your turn." Hopefully, this time she would pick a question that wouldn't be so straight forward. Maybe one of his questions.

"What are you most afraid of?" Something flashed across her face. "The thing I'm most afraid of is...the dark." Daryl caught her hesitation and wondered if that was what she had really wanted to say.

"I'm afraid of falling down ravines and shooting myself with a crossbow." That got a laugh out of Carol and he absolutely loved the sound of it. However, that hesitation still weighed on his mind. What was she most afraid of and why didn't she want to tell him?

"Why are you afraid of the dark?" He asked, hoping maybe it would get more out of her.

Carol shrugged. "I've always been afraid of it. You're turn."

Daryl couldn't do anything more, but pull another slip of paper from the bowl. "Do you want children?" His face flamed at the question. It had been one of Carols'.

"Yeah, I want children, someday." With you. He wanted to add, but refrained. He didn't want to scare her off, especially if she didn't want children.

"Yes," she answered wistfully. "I want at least one boy and one girl. Maybe even more."

"When we have a girl," Daryl said boldly. "I would want her to have your eyes."

She gasped. "I, uh, my turn." Carol nearly dropped the bowl to the ground in her haste to get the next question. "Have you ever been in love?" Instead of answering with a smile about maybe being in love during her teenage years, Carol's face fell and she spoke softly, "Yes."

Daryl was about to ask about who she had been in love with you, when her head shot up. "Please, don't ask. I'll-I'll tell you at another time, but I can't. Not now."

"Do you still love him?" Daryl's heart sank. Was she still in love with another man even though she had agreed to marry him? Carol most have noticed the distress on his face because she reached over and grasped his hand.

"No!" She exclaimed. "I-I would have never said yes to you, if I was still in love with him. So, what about you? Have you ever been in love?"

Daryl looked straight at her. "Not before you." Then, he closed the distance and kissed her. She was shocked, momentarily, but soon melted into his kiss. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he tugged on her until she got up and straddled his lap. They both gasped at the sudden intimacy and Daryl was afraid that Carol was going to bolt. Instead she kissed him softly on the cheek.

"I should probably head home. It's getting pretty late." Daryl hadn't even noticed that the sun had set.

"Okay." He was reluctant to let her stand up from his lap.

"I had a great time, tonight, Daryl."

"I did, too." He rubbed at the back of his head. "Can I take you out sometime?"

"Like a date?" She smiled.

"Yeah."

"We're doing things a little bit backwards, aren't we?" She teased and raised her left hand.

"Yeah. We are. Maybe we can talk about when we want to get...married." Carol's smile flickered for a second.

"Of course!"

"So, Friday night? Is that all right?" It was only Wednesday and Daryl had no idea how he was going to be able to wait that long.

"Friday's perfect." Together, they walked through his house until they reached the front door. He didn't want to see her go.

"Can I see you, tomorrow?" He blurted. "I work until 6. Can-Can I stop by? Just for a little bit."

Carol beamed. "Of course. This time, I'll make you supper."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." She went up on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll see you, then."

"Yeah." And with that, Daryl watched Carol drive out of his driveway.

Carol nearly burst into tears the moment she had pulled onto the road. So much had happened in that little game they had played. She had wanted to keep it easy, by asking questions like his favorite color and how old he was, but of course he would have put more in depth inquiries in the bowl. Daryl wanted to know more about her and she didn't blame him. They were getting married and he wanted to know what she was all about.

But she didn't want him to know all about her. If she told him about her past, it wouldn't take him long to figure out the real reason why she had said yes. Daryl was smart and very observant.

Finally, when she reached her home, all she wanted to do was hop in the shower and go to bed, but a blinking light on her phone, sitting on the counter, had her heart beating fast. Picking it up with shaking fingers, she looked at the new message.

I feel like I'm getting closer to finding you, my little Carol.

Oh. My. God. That premiere was everything I could have ever asked for. I have seriously watched the Caryl reunion like 50 times. I'm not even joking and I plan on watching it another 100 times before next Sunday's episode!

Thanks for reading!