Disclaimer: ...I do not own The Walking Dead.
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Looking around the interior of the shack, Carol saw that its purpose was purely functional and nothing more. It was sparsely furnished and even less sparsely decorated, only a lone single bed and two chairs stood in the room that functioned as a bedroom. She corrected herself, one chair-the other Merle had dragged across the floor and was ramming under the door handle since the lock had bust when he'd broken in. A partitioning wall hid a small kitchen-which consisted of nothing more than a small sink and two units, one of which held a busted up camp stove. Beyond that was yet a third smaller room which held a rudimentary lavatory, and on closer inspection-she doubted that she would care very much to use it. She supposed that the small time that they'd been at the prison and before all of that, had made her realise all over again just how much she'd missed the small creature comforts that she had so thoughtlessly given no real consideration to before the turn had come and changed all that.
She walked across to the bed and dropped her backpack on it, absently noting the thin blanket and thick grime coated pillow that lay strewn across the bunk. She ran her hand across her forehead, smoothing her palm across her hairline, feeling the dirt and sweat there with a sudden grimace. She had never been one for vanity, Ed had never allowed that, and she scowled despite herself at just how awful she must truly look now.
Merle caught her eye as he paced across to her, standing there hesitantly before dropping his weight heavily on to the bed. She almost smiled at him as she glanced away-he looked as equally filthy and dishevelled as she did. He sat there with his back to the wall watching her, his prosthesis resting loosely across his lap.
His gaze caught hers again and he smiled sweetly at her, "Say darlin', ya still wanna get that practice in we talked 'bout earlier? The offer still stands. I'm all yours."
He caught her off guard and she was about to ask what practice, when she saw that he was patting at the space beside him on the bed. She foolishly felt herself start to blush and was glad of the dimness in the room. "I'm going to see if there's any food around, there has to be at least something here."
"Quit stallin' woman. I ain't asking for yer hand in marriage, jus' a quick lil fuck. Hell, I won't even tell baby brother."
"Jesus Merle," Carol hissed, almost choking. "Is that all you think about?"
Merle chuckled dryly, "Last I heard, was some sort'a 'end of world' shit goin' on. Have to grab what ye can, when ya can. We could all die anytime soon an' from what I see, I'm yer best option. Little brother is takin' his sweet assed time...and well shit, we all got needs sugar."
Carol rolled her eyes, trying to ignore what he was insinuating. "Hmm."
Merle sat up more rigidly on the bed, his eyes crinkling. "That a yes?"
"No, goddamn it Merle, it's not," she glared at him, her shoulders hunching stiffly. Her hands clenched at her sides and she sighed quietly, uncurling and flexing her fingers. She didn't quite like the way that his words had hit at an unknown until now sore point. He was right in a way, she had been getting mildly frustrated that her relationship with Daryl seemed to be going nowhere fast, and she had reluctantly realised a while back-that if he wanted nothing more from her, then she would be content with just his friendship. It wasn't like she really needed a man in that way. Memories of Ed had put her off forming any sort of relationship of that nature a long while ago.
Merle couldn't help, nor stop the smile that tugged at his mouth. Damned that he liked to see her getting all worked up and riled. He watched as she stomped across the room from him, his eyes dropping to the curve of her ass. Despite the thin light he could still see that alluring slight wiggle as she walked. He found to his chagrin that he was actually starting to mean what he said. He'd have no problem at all obliging her if she gave him half a chance. "Well hell, ya can't blame me for tryin', but you ever change yer mind sweetcheeks, you know where to find me. You won't regret it. I'm good," he rasped.
He didn't see her widened eyes or the way her mouth suddenly twisted up into a humorous smirk as she stepped into the divided off kitchen. She chose to ignore the slight catch in her heart at his words, the way her blood suddenly thrummed questioningly in her veins. Damned if he wasn't persistent. She paused a moment, before kneeling down and tugging open a cupboard door, her nose wrinkling suddenly as she smelled the sudden heavy tang of soured musty foodstuffs. Reaching in, mindful of her fingers not touching anything decayed, she touched at several metal objects rammed at the back of the cupboard. Her hand closed on one, dragging it out, and she saw with little surprise that it was a can of soup. Leaning back in, she found two more, a single can of peaches and precious little else. Her hand slammed the door shut with more force than she intended and she glanced up quickly.
She placed them on top of the work surface, and gave a small thankful sigh for the invention of ring pull lids. A quick inspection of the second cupboard yielded a few stubs of candles on a chipped dirt grimed plate, a box of damp matches- the cardboard all bloated out and the few matches that remained inside mouldy and useless. Scooping it all up into her arms, she made her way back to the bedroom, pausing to drop the cans next to Merle on the bunk. She placed the plate with the candles on the floor. "I don't have anything to light these with. Found matches, but they're no good."
"Candles? Sure ya ain't tryin' to git n' woo my ass, huh woman?" he asked in mock indignation as he knelt on the dusty wood floor, his hand fumbling in his pocket for his lighter.
Carol glanced at him, "Don't you ever quit, Merle?" She didn't wait for him to answer as he lit the candles, instead she took his place on the bed, curling her legs underneath her. "We should rest soon, start out at first light."
She took a can of soup and flipped the lid open, gingerly sniffing at the contents. Merle watched her, and she handed him the can, indicating for him to sit on the chair opposite where she sat. He grumbled at her under his breath before sitting down and slowly lifting the contents of the can into his mouth.
They ate in silence for a while, and Carol let her eyes roam around the candle lit room, trying to look anywhere but at him.
"Ain't gonna sleep in this goddamned chair, mouse," he dropped the empty can on to the floor, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
Carol looked at him, and grimaced. The chair was obviously too small judging by the way he was squeezed into it. She turned to her backpack, stuffed the remaining cans inside it and dropped the bag on to the floor. Standing up and sighing, she carried her half eaten food in her hand, "Have the bed, I'll take the chair."
"Ain't no need for that, can always share. I jus' don't wanna put ya out on my behalf," he smiled.
Carol looked at him with narrowed eyes as he brushed past her, and sat back on the mattress. He smirked at her, before laying his full length, and patting again at the space next to him. "What?" he growled as she merely shook her head at him, sitting down and getting herself comfortable in the seat. She had this unshakeable feeling that it was possibly going to be a long night.
Merle sat up, and started unbuckling the strap on his arm. Carol couldn't help but watch as he slid the prosthesis off and dropped it softly on the top of her backpack on the floor. He glanced across at her and their eyes met. His gaze was defiant and hooded, and he cocked his head slightly to one side, as if waiting for her to say something. Satisfied she wouldn't, he lay back down, angling his injured arm under the back of his head, using it as a cushion.
Carol slumped in the chair, stretching her legs out in front of her. She shivered, and rubbed at her arms briskly. She listened for a while, the silence almost deafening in the room. Her ears strained for any noise outside, but all she could hear were the sounds of a breeze blowing through the trees, leaves faintly rustling. She shifted in her seat again, trying to find a more comfortable position, sighing when she couldn't.
"Jesus, mouse! I ain't joking... get your ass over here. I ain't gonna get any damn sleep with all yer sighing an' shivering n' crap," Merle growled irritably. "Shit, I'll even fuckin' behave. I'll be the perfect damned gentleman."
"I'll believe that when I see it," Carol replied wearily. The hard edges of the chair were prodding and aching her, and if they had another long trek in the morning, she knew that she would tire rapidly from either lack of sleep, or stiff and sore muscles. Before she could really stop and think about it too much, she stood by the bed, prodding him viciously in the shoulder. "Move over then."
Merle scooted up the bed, and lifted the blanket for her as she climbed in beside him. "See, ain't I behavin'?"
"The nights early Merle," Carol warned as he draped the blanket back over them both. He shifted next to her and she felt herself start to warm, and she wasn't altogether sure if it wasn't just because of the heat his body gave off, or from the sheer embarrassment she felt at his close proximity. She held herself rigid as she felt his chest press at her back, his knee in the back of her thigh, and his arm drape loosely over her waist. She rolled her eyes, stifling a sigh before clamping her eyes firmly shut. "Tell anyone back at the prison about this Merle, and I swear I will kill you," she hissed through her teeth.
Well...of course, naturally the first person he'd tell would be Darlina. Would sure piss lil bro off no end when he got to hear how the little mouse climbed voluntarily into 'his' bed. Merle leaned over her, a sudden thought startling him. "Say sugar, what ya said back at the prison, would ya really cut my throat in my sleep?"
"Mhm. Every damn word Merle, now go to sleep."
Leaning back and resting his head into the crook of his arm, he stared at the back of her head, his breath ghosting at her neck. He let his hand settle more firmly about her waist. He wasn't surprised to find he liked her a little more for that. Merle smiled in the dark.
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