Carolina in my mind
Chapter 27
Carolina rested her forehead against her knees, unable to stop the violent sobs that were shaking her body. She already tried several times to get her emotions under control. But it was useless. As little as she'd had to eat and drink over the last few days, she wondered where her body was even getting the reserves to make so many tears. Unlike Daryl, she managed to hold them back until she was alone. There wasn't much privacy in the prison. But she found a bit of it, high up in the guard tower where Glenn and Maggie liked to hide out and fuck. She sat down on one of the scuffed countertops, drew her knees into her chest, and just let go.
She'd been living in this world like she was playing a video game, convinced that nothing really bad could actually happen. At least not to her. Carolina tried reminding herself that this wasn't real. That this was all a dream. Or, more accurately, a nightmare. Eventually, she was going to wake up at home in her apartment where her top worry would be finding a new teaching job. And since she was still bartending part time, there was really no rush to even do that. She certainly wouldn't have to worry about her boyfriend being shot by a madman, only to have to be put down by his brother so he didn't die in horrible pain and then reanimate.
Carolina hugged her knees tighter and squeezed her eyes shut. For the first time since she arrived, she desperately tried to wish herself back home. She even considered what might happen if she died in this reality. Maybe that would send her home? Though she wasn't sure if she was willing to test that theory, it was still starting to sound more appealing than staying where she was. What if I'm stuck here forever, she thought with a shiver. What if I never get home? The mere idea of it was enough to bring on a fresh bout of sobbing tears. When she finally stopped crying long enough to mop up her face with the sleeve of her flannel shirt, she heard the creek of the guard tower door. Carolina startled, popping her head up and instinctively pressing herself against the window pane and further away from the sudden noise.
"M'sorry," Daryl grumbled. "Didn't mean ta scare ya."
"It's okay," Carolina said, sniffling and wiping her eyes again with the flannel shirt she untied from around her waist. She scooted slightly to the side, making room for Daryl to sit beside her on the countertop. He hovered in the doorway for what felt like forever before he finally entered the small space and lowered himself down next to her. He lifted one leg, planting his foot on the countertop and letting his other leg dangle down over the edge. He swung his foot slightly. And Carolina guessed that while he'd sought her out because she was the one person that could share his grief over losing Merle, now that he was here he had no idea what to say or do. When Daryl got done swinging his foot he pulled the knife from his belt and began drilling a small hole in the wooden counter with the tip of it.
"If you wanna talk about it, you can," Carolina offered. She sucked in a long hard breath, forcing herself to let it out slowly through her nose. "I know how you feel," she added.
Daryl snapped his head up, casting an irritated glance in her direction. He huffed, lifting his knife and stabbing it hard enough into the wood of the counter to make her flinch slightly away from him.
"Just 'cause you were lettin' Merle put it to ya don't mean ya know how I feel," he huffed.
Carolina sighed again, rubbing her face with her hands. She didn't think she could feel any worse. But apparently she was wrong. Instead of helping Daryl, she was making him even more upset. And that made her feel even shittier than she already felt.
"I didn't mean it like that," Carolina said. She flicked her eyes nervously towards Daryl before she added, "...I used to have a brother too."
Carolina leaned back, resting the back of her head against the glass. She closed her eyes and focused on controlling her breathing, doing her absolute best not to start crying again. Thinking about her brother still hurt. Even all these years later. And she could remember how bad it was when the pain was fresh. She knew that was the type of pain Daryl must be feeling. That's why she told him she knew how he felt. And it occurred to her now that this was the first time she told anything real about herself to anyone since she arrived in this horrible place.
"Fuck," Daryl cursed. "M'sorry."
Carolina didn't respond. She just reached over, grasping Daryl's hand and pulling it towards her until his arm was wrapped around her shoulders. The small physical contact was a comfort to them both. And after a moment of awkwardness, they shifted their bodies around slightly, snuggling closer to each other.
"Was he older or younger?," Daryl asked. Carolina tilted her head, resting it against his shoulder.
"Younger. By about five minutes," she said. Carolina closed her eyes for just a moment, picturing her brother in her mind. He was the only person she ever met that was tall enough to make her feel short. His hair was a slightly darker blonde than hers but they had the exact same blue eyes. "His name was Colorado, but we called him Collin. We were drinking at my friend's pool party. He left to go grab some more beer from the store. A kid ran out in front of his car and …he didn't stop in time. He got convicted of vehicular manslaughter. He …um." Carolina paused, swallowing the hard lump in her throat before she finished her story. "...He killed himself while he was waiting for his sentencing hearing."
Daryl tightened his hold on her shoulder, pulling Carolina closer to him. He smelled like sweat. But not as strong as she expected. And there were better smells under the odor of manly perspiration, like grass and leather and what she thought might be gunpowder or the oil he used to tune up his crossbow.
"Carolina and Colorado…," he teased, tracing up and down the outside of her arm with his finger. Carolina smiled through the pain.
"Like Daryl and Merle is real high class?," she retorted, smiling when she felt Daryl's body shake slightly against hers.
Carolina lifted her head off Daryl's shoulder, meeting his eyes with hers. His face was only inches from hers and his arm was still wrapped around her. Time seemed to stretch and expand as her breaths came harder and faster. She suddenly became hyper aware of everywhere his body was touching hers. And the next thing she knew, Daryl's lips were pressing down on hers. She gasped slightly, jerking back and breaking the kiss. The kiss wasn't unwelcome. This was Daryl, after all. He was hands down the sexiest man she'd ever seen. The object of her every masturbatory fantasy. She just wasn't expecting him to actually make a move. He startled her.
From the way Daryl immediately jerked his arm away from her and pulled himself up off the countertop, it was obvious to Carolina that he took her slight shock as a total rejection of his clumsy advances.
"Wait," she urged, rising to her own feet and catching Daryl by the hand to keep him from running straight out the door.
Carolina's mind was spinning as she desperately tried to think of what she could say to keep Daryl from walking away. Nothing that felt right was coming to mind. So instead of speaking, Carolina gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, dropping it to the floor near her feet. She unhooked her bra next, slipping the straps down off her shoulders and dropping the undergarment on top of her shirt. Her nipples pebbled up as the cool air hit them. Daryl's eyes darkened as he stared at her naked flesh. Just his gaze on her body was enough to make the heat pool between her legs.
Daryl moved forward, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into the crook of her neck. His embrace was tentative at first, more like a child seeking comfort from his mother than that of a lover. But soon his fingers were digging into the flesh of her back as his teeth grazed across the sensitive skin of her neck. Carolina's hands moved between them, working at the buttons of his tattered shirt. Daryl's body went stiff as he caught her hands with his, stopping her from undressing him. Or at least stopping her from removing his shirt.
"I don't care about your scars," she whispered. "I just wanna feel your skin on mine."
Daryl hesitated a moment, holding her wrists in his hands. He gave a small unsure nod of his head before he released his hold on her. Carolina whipped her way up his shirt, opening the garment and pushing it back off his shoulders along with his vest before he could change his mind.
Once his chest was bare, Carolina pulled Daryl against her. She moaned softly at the feel of her breasts pressing against the hard expanse of his naked chest. From the way he held her even closer, almost smashing her against him, she could tell Daryl was enjoying the feeling just as much as she was. And she wondered if actually getting naked with a woman he intended to bed was an entirely new experience for him.
Emboldened by the feel of her skin against his, Daryl captured her mouth with his. Their kisses were sloppy and almost feverish. Both of them were raw with grief and eager to lose themselves in each other. Desperate to feel anything besides the pain. Carolina slipped her hand between them, rubbing his hard length through the fabric of his pants as his tongue tangled up with hers. Daryl pulled his head back, sucking in a hard breath before a low groan issued from between his lips. When he leaned back towards her, he began to kiss down the side of her neck. His hands moved to her ample breasts, lifting the heavy globes slightly as he did what she was sure he'd been dying to do since the moment she took her shirt off and buried his face in her abundant cleavage. Carolina's hands moved up, tangling into his hair as he kissed and licked and fondled her. When his tongue flicked across her nipple her hips bucked forward, the pounding heat between her legs so intense that it was almost painful.
Daryl looked slightly worried when Carolina pushed him back and hopped down off the counter. But when she bent down and started pulling at the laces on her boots, he relaxed. She wasn't rejecting him. She was taking the rest of her clothes off. Carolina kicked her boots away. Her socks went next. And then she unbuttoned her jeans and wriggled them down over her full hips, pushing her damp panties off with them. As she lowered herself down onto Glenn and Maggie's makeshift bed, Daryl was still struggling with the multitude of laces that were roped and knotted around his shins and ankles.
"Why do you have so many shoelaces?," she asked, unable to stop the giggle that bubbled out of her when Daryl grunted in frustration.
"I don't fuckin' know!," he huffed, yanking at a knot and somehow managing to pull the laces tighter instead of loosening them.
"Leave your boots on and just pull your pants down," Carolina suggested, stifling another laugh. She had absolutely no patience for whatever the hell Daryl was doing or undoing with his boots. And to be fair, she had no interest in smelling his skanky feet either. If he didn't get down there onto the sleeping bag with her soon, she was ready to reach between her legs and get the job done herself.
Daryl stood up, leaving his shoelace mess to deal with later and taking the few steps that led him to the edge of the sleeping bag. Carolina looked up at him as he unzipped his pants and pushed them down over his hips. His erection sprung free. It was large and pointing upwards towards his stomach, the head of his a slightly darker color than the shaft. The tip of it glistened slightly in the darkened tower, already slightly coated in precum. Carolina swallowed hard as she stared at it, eagerly parting her thighs so Daryl could settle between them as he lowered himself onto the rumpled pile of blankets. He propped himself up with one elbow planted next to her body. His other hand slipped between her legs, his finger pushing between her slick folds. She moaned, rocking her hips against his touch. Daryl cursed under his breath as he added a second finger and felt her squeeze down around his thick digits as he forced them into her.
Pulling his hand away, Daryl gripped the base of his dick and lined it up with her hot wet pussy. His balls were already tightening as he pushed inside. Carolina cried out, the pleasure mixing with just the right amount of pain as her insides were forced open. She arched her back until she felt Daryl's balls bump her bottom. His dick was long and thick and she couldn't wait for him to pound her raw with it. But the moment he bottomed out inside her, she felt him jerk back and out of her. He let out a hard grunt and for a moment she was worried that she hurt him somehow. But then she felt the warm splash of fluid against the insides of her parted thighs. Daryl Dixon, the object of her every sexual fantasy since season one, just shot his shit like one of her teenage high school students.
Carolina flopped down onto her back and covered her eyes with her forearm. She wasn't really sure what the proper reaction would be to her current situation. But whatever it was, she was totally unable to stop the near hysterical laughter that began to shake her body. She wasn't laughing at Daryl. But more at herself and the entire fucking situation. Poor Daryl probably hadn't been laid in at least a year. He likely didn't have a lot of experience being intimate even before the turn. His brother just died. And here she was, expecting him to give her the fuck of her life like he was a some sort of high dollar gigalo.
"I'm sorry," Carolina squeaked, still trying to fight back another round of laughter as Daryl snatched his pants back on and jerked the zipper up. "Daryl, don't go. I didn't mean to laugh! I'm really sorry!"
Daryl's face was beet red. And he was purposely avoiding eye contact with her as he grabbed his shirt and vest off the floor. In his haste to get his clothes back on, he ended up with the vest tangled up half inside the shirt. He had to take them back off and straighten them out to get them on. Once the garments were in place Daryl fled from the tower, his shirt flapping open as he ran.
"Fucking hell," Carolina cursed, covering her face with her hands. Not only had she just made a complete mess of any relationship she ever hoped to have with Daryl, she was also sweaty, naked, and covered in jizz. Laughing at Daryl like that would have been terrible no matter when it happened, but as he just lost his brother she felt even worse for doing it. She scrubbed her face with her hands and began trying to think of some way to apologize.
