AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I wrote another one earlier this morning, so if you haven't read that one, please do before you read this one. If you like that one, please don't forget to leave me some love on it! (That's what keeps the drive going, after all.)

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl had barely had the stomach to eat breakfast. Carol had worried that it was her pancakes or the sausage she'd prepared, and then she'd worried that she'd done something wrong in the bed the night before. Daryl had to promise her that it was only a case of an uneasy and unsettled stomach. He blamed it on the beer from the night before, though he was certain that Carol didn't really buy it since beer hadn't ever affected him negatively before.

He choked down lunch from a little beachside stand where they ate fried food and Carol protested how fattening it all was while she clearly enjoyed her corn dog and cheese fries, washed down with frozen lemonade that melted relatively quickly given the fact that it was a little chilly on the sand.

By the time they were eating dinner—seafood, again, because they both agreed they'd enjoyed it—Daryl was barely holding back the sensation of hyperventilation that might have convinced half the restaurant that he was just discovering an acute allergy to shellfish that would close up his windpipe.

Back at the house, Carol had fussed over him, mistaking his poorly-hidden anxiety for illness, and had told him that it was fine if he didn't feel like going out to dance. She would be just as happy to stay there with him, take care of him a little, and watch a movie on the couch together.

Daryl had roused everything within him, and he'd sworn to her that he was fine—and she just had to believe him on that. She'd been concerned, but she'd done what he'd asked. She'd dressed in her blue dress with the white flowers—her favorite dress, she told him—and she'd given him a private peek of her dancing, laughing while she swished her hips and danced around him, showing him how her dress curled in one direction and then another around her legs.

She made him feel better. She always made him feel better.

And she told him he was handsome in the blue shirt he'd chosen just to compliment her dress, and she kissed his jaw, cheek, and lips in quick excited kisses before she threw her arms around his neck and squealed in pleasure because he lifted her off the floor and spun her around dramatically.

Despite the pounding of his poor nervous heart, and the strange weight of the ring in his pocket that he was as acutely aware of as if it weighed a thousand pounds, Daryl felt excited because the part of him that remained calm in Carol's presence—no matter how much it had to war against the nervous part of him—imagined that he would come home, that night, assured of the fact that this woman…this incredible, wonderful, beautiful woman…would someday be his wife.

When they got to the place, Daryl left Carol at a high-top table sipping her drink and excused himself to "take a piss." She was pleased with her diet cherry coke and vodka, and she was swaying to the music while she waited on his return, admiring the movement of her own skirt in a place where she didn't feel self-conscious making the skirt sway. Wolves circled her like a lamb left alone in the wilderness, but Daryl wasn't concerned because Carol didn't notice them and, even if she did speak to someone who addressed her directly, they weren't the one who was carrying a ring as a request for the right to wake up beside her for every morning from now until forever.

Daryl slipped around, blending himself into the crowd in case she tried to search him out, and spoke to the D.J. The man seemed more than happy to help him with his request, and Daryl slipped him the information that he'd written down on a bar napkin with the bartender's borrowed pen. Then, for good measure he took a piss and came back, apologetic for having taken so long and blaming his absence on an unusually long line and some non-functioning urinals.

Carol hadn't minded Daryl's tardiness, and it was clear that he'd given her just enough time for the vodka to make her a little lightheaded and giggly. She'd asked him if he was feeling OK, and he'd been able to be honest with her when he wrapped her in his arms and promised her that he couldn't recall when he'd ever felt better.

On the dance floor, they danced their horrible attempts at fast and slow dances for what felt like hours. They could laugh at each other, both of them knowing that what really mattered wasn't the dancing—it was the moment.

The moment was even more important that Carol realized.

Daryl's heart nearly stopped in his chest when the D.J. stopped the music a moment, as he sometimes did to make one announcement or another. This time, Daryl was certain that he knew what the announcement was—and he wasn't wrong.

"Alright everyone…it's time grab that special guy or gal. We've got a special request coming up from the King of Rock n' Roll himself. This one goes out from Daryl to his best girl, Carol. I hope you enjoy."

Carol was smiling at Daryl and the blood rushing past his ears as his heart pounded nearly drowned out the song as he wrapped his arms around her. She curled in close to him, their bodies so close that they could barely rock on their feet without stepping on each other.

He had worried over the song for days, but in the end, he thought it was just what he wanted to say—even if he was letting Elvis say it for him.

He closed his eyes and let himself focus, for just that moment, on nothing more than the feeling of her in his arms. For just a moment, they might as well have been alone.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you…"

Daryl's knees were practically shaking as the song ended. The D.J. did just what Daryl had asked—just what the $20 he'd slipped him had asked for, even though the man told him he'd do it for free. He cut the music to silence when the song had finished.

Daryl could barely breathe and he begged himself not to do something stupid like pass out before he could make this happen. Shaky, he lowered himself down on a knee—thinking it looked much easier in the movies—and pulled the box out of his pocket.

The whole damn place was watching them—every single eye was on them—so Daryl made it a point to focus only on her.

She covered her mouth, clearly surprised, and dragon tears dropped out of her eyes before he even spoke.

"I don't have a speech," Daryl said. He heard his own voice shaking. "I tried to figure one out, but…it didn't work like I wanted. Not—not one of them book worthy ones. I got ideas, but I didn't really write 'em all down. That's why I picked the song. I know—Ed spent a lot of damn years makin' you think that we're all shit. And I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to get involved in a marriage again. But—I'm innocent, Carol, of his sins. And if you let me? I'll spend a lifetime showin' you that…we ain't the same. It's fast. I know that. But—I've known since I met you that…you were the one I was supposed to build all those stories around." She was still staring at him, hand over her mouth, and Daryl waved the box at her, his stomach clenching over the concern that she hadn't taken it yet. She hadn't said anything. She seemed simply frozen there. "What do you say?" He pressed. "You gonna…marry me?"

Daryl was just beginning to wish that he hadn't done this in front of everyone—even though everything he knew about proposals told him that he should do it in public—when Carol seemed to come out of whatever had held her frozen in place. She surprised him because, dropping her hand, she revealed a smile, and she reached for him like she intended to catch him under the arms and lift him to his feet. Ironically enough, he was thankful for her hands when he went to stand, facing her.

She stared at the box in his hand, and he pushed it toward her.

"If you don't like it—we can get a different one," he said.

"What?" She asked.

"The ring," Daryl said. "If it ain't right—I can get you a better one."

"It's perfect," she said, furrowing her brow at him.

Daryl's stomach twisted. He glanced around. They were being watched. Some people watched them, even, from behind phone screens. The place had frozen like time had stopped.

And Daryl wondered if Carol, in that moment, was even aware of it all.

"You—uh—you still ain't said nothin'," he offered gently and quietly.

Carol's eyes went saucer wide and immediately she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms entirely around his neck. She choked off his air, slightly, but he didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up as he straightened his back.

"I'm sorry," she breathed into his neck. "Of course, I'll marry you, Daryl."

He squeezed her, holding her like that for a moment.

Relief flooded his body and he went a little lightheaded.

"Holy shit—I'm glad to hear that!" Daryl declared. He rested Carol back on her feet and she pulled away from him. Her hands were shaking so badly that she somewhat violently flapped them, trying to will them to stop. "Hey—shhh—hey—it's OK," Daryl offered, catching her face. He took her hand in his, stilling the shaking because she needed it, honestly surprised at his ability to hold his own hands steady, and finally freed the ring from the box. He slipped it on her finger, and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him, hard.

"I love you," she promised him, the moment that the kiss broke.

"Good damn thing," he breathed out, feeling like he could breathe for the first time in a week. "Because I love you, woman."

When they received a round of applause from the people around them, Daryl remembered that they were surrounded and in public. Carol, it seemed, remembered everyone for the first time, too. She laughed and then looked around, taking in the faces that seemed, at the very least, amused to be witnesses to their moment.

Supporting Carol with an arm around her ribcage, just in case her knees felt as gelatinous as his did, Daryl escorted her back to a table. From out of nowhere, it seemed, seconds of the drinks they'd ordered earlier made their way through the crowd, and the D.J., who came over with the drinks, informed Daryl that they were on the house. Some couple from within the crowd approached them—there on their wedding anniversary, so they said—and offered to share the video that the woman had taken on their phone, so Daryl had gladly given her his phone number to accept the incoming video.

"You OK?" Daryl finally asked when things had calmed down and people had returned to dancing—and Carol was halfway through the vodka cherry coke that she was drinking.

She nodded at him, still smiling.

"I'm perfect," she said.

"That ring OK?" Daryl asked.

She looked at her hand like she was surprised to see the ring there—like she hadn't seen it yet.

"It's beautiful, Daryl," she said. "It's perfect. This is perfect. You're perfect. Everything's…perfect." She looked at him, suddenly going a little owl-eyed. "Are you OK?"

Daryl laughed to himself. Every bit of anxiety he had felt earlier had drained out of him. Honestly, he felt a level of exhaustion that he couldn't begin to put into words and he'd begged water instead of beer because he was already feeling dizzy—though he was certain that it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Were you serious?" He asked. "You're really gonna—marry me? Be my wife?"

Carol smiled sincerely at him. She smoothed her fingers over his chest like she was pushing out some wrinkle there. She touched his cheek. She seemed to examine each inch of his face with her eyes. She slipped her fingers behind his neck and pulled his face to hers, and he tasted her drink when she kissed him.

Then she smiled at him.

"You should know—I wasn't a very good wife, Daryl."

"You oughta know that—the only damn problem that happened there was you had a shitty damn husband," Daryl responded.

"Well that certainly wouldn't be the case if you were my husband," Carol said.

Daryl squeezed her hand in his. His throat tightened.

"You're scarin' me," he offered. "Because—it sounds like you might be backin' out, and…I don't think I can handle it if you do that, so I'm beggin' you not to do that, Carol."

"I want to let you change your mind—if you want," Carol said. "I just don't want you to be disappointed."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"You couldn't never disappoint me. And I won't never change my mind," he assured her. "I told you—I get stuck on shit. And I ain't never been stuck on a thing like I'm stuck on you. Please say you ain't changed your mind, OK? Please say—you still gonna marry me, OK? Just…" He heard his own voice crack. He thought he might choke. "Please just…say you will. I swear it. I won't make you sorry."

Carol stole what little bit of breath he had with a kiss. He couldn't help but relax under it. Her hands held tight to his face, and he thought he felt actual electricity surge though his body from every place she touched him.

"I don't think you could ever make me sorry," Carol breathed out. "And I'd marry you tonight, Daryl—right now—if I could."

Daryl laughed to himself, relief washing over him again.

"Want me to ask the D.J. to see if anybody happens to be ordained?" He asked.

"You could," Carol said with a smile. "You can't call my bluff, Daryl, because I'm not bluffing."

"Courthouse is open on Sunday," Daryl offered.

Carol smiled at him.

"Then—maybe you better take me home," she said. "Go to bed? If we start the day early enough tomorrow, we'll still have most of the day and Monday morning for a honeymoon."

"You deserve more than that for a honeymoon," Daryl said.

Carol smiled sincerely. It was a smile that made a warmth spread through every part of Daryl's body just as surely as if he'd drank hot coffee on a cold day.

"We'll have the rest of our lives to make up for it," she offered.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

AN: Obviously I don't own the rights to "Can't Help Falling in Love."

I hope you enjoyed! Please don't forget to let me know what you think! (Enough love might go a long way to inspire me to get one more out before bed, I'm just saying…LOL)