Carol and Daryl watch the Quadrantid meteor shower. "Words don't have to be said for them to be true."

Just a little fluff under the stars. Now that they have the freedom to explore their love in its entirety, Daryl is set to surprise Carol with another confession.

Vibes for this chapter were inspired by "It's Nice to Have a Friend" by Taylor Swift and the song "Snowfall" by Ingrid Michaelson which as I listened to it, if I let my hearing get really lazy, I could hear the lyrics changing from "oh bury me in your quiet love" to "marry me in your quiet love" and thus was born part of the idea for this chapter.

Chapter 16: It's Nice to Have a Friend

Two nights later, a feeling of peace had finally settled between them. The tensions of the past had fallen away with the old year, and in its place bloomed passion, desire, and adoration. They sat together on an old picnic table, bundled up with a blanket across their knees. A fresh layer of snow dusted the ground from the day before, but tonight, the stars were shining clear and bright.

"Hand me the hot chocolate," she nudged him as her teeth chattered together.

"Yer freezin' cold, let's just go back in," he growled, reaching for the shared blanket.

"No!" she gripped the tapestry across her knees and glared at him, "Just hand me the hot chocolate."

He rolled his eyes, reaching behind him to grab the mugs, "Catch ya' damn death out here."

She rubbed her hands together to stir up some warmth as he handed her a steaming mug, "I'm not going to 'catch my death.' And anyway, isn't this nice?" She nudged his shoulder as she took a sip, a broad, pleased smirk on her face. She eyed him, and her smile bloomed brightly as she caught the look of pleasure on his face. "I'm right."

"Maybe," he shrugged, taking another sip. He moaned a little as the sweetness hit his tongue.

"Good?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Not as good as you," he deadpanned. The razzing tone set Carol's cheeks aflame, her mug tumbled from her hands, cracking on the corner of the table, THUNKING unceremoniously onto the snow. He turned, an ornery glint in his eyes as she sat there with her mouth agape.

"Daryl."

"Mhmm?"

"Don't make promises you can't-"

"Kept 'em' just fine last night," he quipped, licking his lips as he took another drink while glancing up at the stars.

She glared at him, "Give me that."

"What? No! This one's mine." He laughed, holding the mug out of her reach. Carol's arm reached across his chest, the blanket falling to the snow silently as she crawled atop him. She steadied herself, knees settled on each side of his lap, intent on capturing the hot cocoa from his grasp.

"Please? You made me spill!" She grunted, advancing toward the mug, bending him backward over the table.

"Fine," he laughed, relenting, handing her the mug and stopping her from tipping them over by gripping her waist and forcing her to sit upright as she straddled him.

She peered down at him with a saccharine smile, "Thank you." She went to take a sip and frowned, looking into the mug, "You drank it all?" He guffawed brightly as she smacked his chest, feigning anger for a moment until she became distracted by their proximity.

He held her hand against his chest, stole the mug from her distracted hands, and set it on the bench beside them. He quirked an eyebrow up at her, "You're gonna miss it."

"What?" She asked in a haze. Her brows knit together in question as her eyes danced over his lips, her heartbeat thrumming loudly in her chest and ears.

"The whole reason ya had me come out here," he beamed at her, squeezing her waist affectionately.

"Oh," she laughed, the blush rising in her cheeks, "Right. I guess then I should-" she shifted away from his lap, but he stopped her, now holding her in place with both hands. "Daryl!" she squealed. "How am I going to watch the meteor shower stuck like this?" She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, letting out a small giggle.

"Like ya on top," a beat as he waited for her reaction.

She gasped and swatted at his hands, removing herself from his lap. "You are the biggest flirt." She leaned over to kiss him sweetly, and he accepted the gift of her lips against his. "Did I mention I love that about you?" She sighed as they separated, foreheads still pressed together. She shivered then, reminding them both of the cold.

"Shit," he muttered, leaning over to pick up the forgotten blanket. He began to fuss with it; his brow furrowed with worry as he tucked the blanket over and across her knees. "Warm enough?"

She looked down as he worked the blanket under her on each side, forgoing covering himself, "Hey, no, we're supposed to share that," she whined, fighting his hands and pulling the edges up from under her legs.

"Aint lettin' ya die of cold on my watch," he grumbled humorously, shoving the edges back under her.

She stilled his hands with her own. "Ain't lettin' ya die either," she mocked him, lifting the blanket and motioning for him to scoot back over and join her.

He rolled his eyes, muttering "Bossy" under his breath as he complied.

"Oh please, you weren't complaining this afternoon," it was her turn to watch him flush red from embarrassment. Her shoulders shook with laughter, pleased at his bashfulness.

"Oh ma gawd, stahp!" he squirmed under her teasing glare.

"Can dish it but can't take it, I see," she grinned at him like a fool.

"We'll see bout that later," a flirtatious warning in his voice. His attention turned back to the sky, and she reveled in awe at how beautiful he was and how he shone with love in the dark. This man, so often locked away in thoughts of survival, was opening up in a way she hadn't imagined would be possible. The ease at which their coupling fell together was something to admire. She'd never felt so comfortable and so seen with any man. But with Daryl, she'd found an easy-going comradery and friendship full of trust and understanding. And with their confessions she'd found a lover.

She reached over and put her arm through his, drawing him close. "Glad I have you out here. You're like a heater," she sighed again, resting her head on his shoulder and looking upward at the clear night sky- pitch black- endless in its expanse but a blanket of stars shining brightly overhead.

"Uhuh? That why you're constantly stickin' your cold toes against my calves at night?" She felt the rumble of laughter against her side.

"Yeah, keep up the joking, mister." He jerked against the feeling of her hand, snaking between them, sneaking past his layers and tickling his side.

"Hey! Ain't playin' fair."

She gasped, feigning disbelief, "Little ol' me? I just came out here to watch the stars. I don't know what you're talking about." She tilted her head, her eyelashes fluttering in a coquettish fashion.

His arm wrapped around her then, pulling her closer, "C'mere. Gonna miss it if you keep distractin' me," he groused.

"Sure, it's definitely me who's distracting," she shivered against him, and he pulled her in tighter.

He instinctively reached for her gloved hands, rubbing them between his own to warm her, "Should'a brought out that extra blanket."

She shoved his hands aside and pointed up, "I'm just fine. Look!" There above them, they witnessed the first of the meteors flashing across the sky.

"What'd you say these were called again?" he asked, both of them entranced as the minerals in question kissed the earth's atmosphere and incinerated into glorious streaks of light.

"Farmers Almanac said they're called the Quadrantids," she said, voice filled with awe.

"Pfft! That thing's like fifteen years old," he squinched his face, his tone skeptical.

"Yeah, well, these kinds of things happen in cycles, easy enough to predict; we keep spinning, and so does the rest of the universe, I guess," she shrugged.

"Us too, I guess," his gaze drifted to her face, aglow with absolute wonder.

She gripped his upper arm, and his attention returned upward, "Oh, it's so beautiful!" She sighed. She paused on a curious thought and then spoke, "I don't think I've really looked up into the stars like this since-."

"Since when?" he turned to her.

"Huh- since Sophia," she relaxed into him again.

"Yeah?" he tensed, filled with a sudden nervous ache.

She laughed softly, "Not a bad memory," she assured him, and she felt him sag against her in relief.

"Last time for me was-" he swallowed, relaxing his grip around her shoulder, "- was that first night after I found ya."

She hummed in response, sinking into the softness of the moment with him. The blanket slipped, and she felt him tug on it absentmindedly, caring to pull it up even higher over her forearms to protect her from further blasts of cold air. Her cheeks warmed at the affectionate gesture, and she burrowed further into his side. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. Here, in this pocket of time, she felt no threat of death or violence. Only hope and feelings of love and belonging within the confines of his embrace. She would lock away this core memory for safekeeping, here- the two of them seated side by side in the yard, staring up at the stars. Even if they lost one another tomorrow, this feeling and place would remain THEIR home.

"What did you say to me that first night?"

"Hm?" She turned to him, her eyes shining brightly in the dark.

"You and me at the end of the world," a beat, and then, "together," he exhaled with an assured tone.

"I like that," she sighed dreamily and patted his knee.

He bit his lip, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, and stood abruptly, turning to offer his hand, "S' late. Should get to bed; big day tomorrow."

"Since when do we have plans?" she moved the blanket deftly aside, her eyes filled with confusion. She took Daryl's hand.

He hoisted her to standing. "Since I made 'em," he grunted, pulling her into an impromptu hug, his arms sliding across her back and tugging her forward gently.

"A date?" she braced her hands on his chest, her eyes meeting his with a twinkle. He rocked them slowly back and forth.

"Was thinkin'. Saw a few towns 'round here. Go out and scout a little now the weather's cleared up, and I'm feelin' better," he shrugged bashfully.

"Going a little stir crazy cooped up here with me?" she teased, patting his chest.

He shook his head, "Nah, anythin' but. If I'm bein' honest, these have been the best few days o' my life." His eyes softened. "Feel safe."

"But?"

"No buts... but-"

"There it is," she chuckled.

"Stahp," he squeezed her, "Wanna find some books on homesteadin'," he continued to gently rock them back and forth, their feet shuffling softly in the snow.

"You wanna stay?" she stared at him fondly.

He nodded, "S' a good spot for us, I think, long as it'll last; I mean, when's the last time we felt safe enough to stay up late and watch the stars?"

"You make a fair point," she smirked, nodding in agreement. "Well, if that's the case, my answer is yes, I will go on a date with you tomorrow." Her face bore the most precocious smirk he'd witnessed.

"Ain't technically a date," he declared.

"Right, like we technically aren't married," she shrugged.

He sputtered out a cough, "What?" he shook his head in disbelief at the words. He dropped his arms to his side, and she stepped away, never dropping his hand from hers. "You'd want that?" a combination of surprise and concern flashing in his eyes.

"Words don't have to be said for them to be true," she beamed at him and yawned. She pulled on his arm, tugging him toward the house. She raised her eyebrows in question, "Now, are ya gonna take me in and warm me up, or are we going to stand here all night and flirt?" He paused, refusing to budge an inch. She tugged on his hand harder, turning back to him, a look of confusion plastered across her face. "Daryl?"

Suddenly, her feet were off the ground as he hoisted her up and into his arms. "Daryl, what are you doing ?" she squealed softly. Her hands circled his neck instinctively as he carried her toward the house, her feet dangling off the side of his right arm. It was a familiar embrace. But, this time, as she stared up into his eyes, instead of the worry from memory so long ago, there was only delight and desire.

He huffed out a ragged breath from his exertion, "What's it look like?" a rye smile formed on his lips.

"I don't know!" she laughed as he readjusted her slight figure in his arms the nearer they got to the front door.

"You lock the door?"

"No! Daryl- just put me down!" she squirmed in his arms and began to slide from his grip.

"S' Tradition, right?" He shifted her back up in his arms, "Hold on."

"What are you going on about?" her arms tensed, hands gripping together tightly behind his neck to keep herself from falling out of his grasp.

"Carryin' my wife over the threshold," he ground out as he took his final steps up and across the planks of the porch. "Here, you open it- hands are kinda full."

She giggled and tried to pull her hand from his neck but felt herself slipping again, "Daryl!"

"I gotchya, just open the damn door," he growled, "ya kinda heavy," he muttered teasingly.

Her eyes went wide as she reached the handle of the door, "I'm what?" she whipped her head around to glare at him.

"Not what I meant, Christ! Ya gonna open it?" he groaned, waiting for her to push the door open. "Goddamn just wanted to get this right," She began to slip, and he adjusted her again, hoisting her back up into his arms with his knee.

She turned his face, both bathed in the porch's darkness, her hand gently cradling his jaw and cheek. "Daryl." He stilled, and their eyes locked. "You didn't ask me," she laughed.

He gulped and nodded, a little breathless, "You good with that? Bein' my wife?"

She nodded, pulling herself up and kissing him soundly on the mouth. Trusting she was secure in his arms, she slipped her right hand from behind his neck, reached out, feeling through the darkness, and twisted the doorknob. She felt him move forward, his boot knocking the door open, her hand returning to clutch against his neck, deepening the kiss as he carried her across the threshold.