No Good (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 2

~Daryl's POV~

This girl....this girl was different. It may sound cliché but I knew it the first time I laid eyes on her.

She was beautiful, no doubt. She had golden blond hair and doe-like blue eyes that automatically made her attractive. She had a curvaceous body and she managed to pull of the dirtiest clothes that hardly fit her right. 

She must've had countless relationships and I bet plenty of them involved more than just the average hand holding.

Just by looking at her, you could ht. tell she was a fighter.

If she made it this far there must've been something fueling her to get here. She was alone and it seemed like she hadn't seen civilization in awhile. I knew by looking at her that I wanted her.

What man wouldn't? I thought tartly. That just made the chase even better. 

She put the handgun down and reached for the carefully strung bow, loading it and pulling the arrow back, she released flawlessly.

She impaled a line of tin cans we had hanging to warn us of walkers. Her form was perfection and the way she held herself automatically made her look important. 

Slowly, the group started applauding. I had to admit, she was good. If she could do that with one arrow, I wondered what she could do with a whole sheath of them.

The arrows may not be lenient, but she could definitely pull it off. 

I didn't applaud, but I did lift a corner of my lips, giving her what I hoped was a sultry smirk.

I had given that same expression to a handful of girls and it always worked, but for some reason I felt like it might not work on her. 

It didn't.

As soon as she caught my expression, she sent me a triumphant expression, as if I had handed her a gold medal.

I dropped the smirk and turned away to take care of the work that I'd left behind. Andrea and Amy had went fishing and left the dirty work of gutting the retched smelling things to me.

Sometimes I wondered why I even put up with women. I tried to avoid them, but it wasn't possible. It's not like I knew the first thing about washing my clothes, or cooking soup.

I had always counted on women for that and just because I wasn't looking for a relationship did not change that.

 I rinsed the fish and started to peel off the skin carefully when Carol came and sat beside me on the rotting log.

She placed a hand on my shoulders and gave me a small smile, forcing me to look at her sad expression.

"What do you think of Rebel?" She asked me quietly.

That was the thing about Carol, she was quiet and reserved. She rarely spoke her mind, but when she did,  you knew she was up to something.

I sighed and shrugged her hand off my shoulder, "She's a good shooter." I muttered honestly.

"And...?" She urged me.

"And what? She has a good aim and she's had the strength to survive this long on her own. That's all." I snapped at her.

Carol flinched at my harsh tone and guilt washed over my insides. As always, I didn't let my face show any emotion.

Becoming close to these people was dangerous, if I needed to up and leave I could go without feeling terrible for doing so.

Carol got up and walked back over to her little girl and husband, everyone knew her husband was abusive towards her, no one tried to say anything because it had gotten less over time, but it was still there.