Room for Pain (Shane Walsh love story)

Chapter eight: Hand Them Over

Chapter eight: Hand Them Over

A/N can I just say…. I haven’t updated for fucking ages and I am so so sorry! I stopped writing because I felt like nobody was really reading, until I got a few comments from some very lovely people asking me if I could continue writing. This for you guys, thank you very much for your sweet words on both Quotev and Wattpad (where you can find this story). So, here it goes. Enjoy! Mind you, I’m really sorry if there are some grammar or spelling or word errors. I’m currently sick in bed and I honestly can’t be shitted to edit the chapter properly.
Daria,
Xx

The rest of the day of Otis’ funeral was a blur. We were all tired and overwhelmed at the situation that we had been thrown into, meaning we couldn’t wait to bunker down for the night. Except this night wouldn’t be as comfortable, at least for me, as the previous where I had been allowed to sleep inside the house on a recliner. Hershel didn’t want any of us feeling to welcome at his farm, therefore sending us all out a few metres away from the front of the house where Dale had parked his RV. Some were sleeping inside the motor home, whereas others were sent back to live in tents, just like the good old days outside of Atlanta.

It was around ten at night and I felt completely worn out from the day. I stood back as Shane finished pitching the tent that we would be sharing together. He wiped his arm across his forehead, removing the beads of sweat that formed. The nights were warm, even at this hour, and slaving away with a tent could easily make you break a sweat no matter how fit you were.

“Are we good?” I asked him as he unzipped the entrance.
He nodded at me and climbed in first, unfolding each of our sleeping bags and laying them out for the two of us. I moved my sleeping bag in closer to his so that they touched. He gave me a weak smile before placing his hand on my shoulder and getting into a crouching position.
“I’ll just go check on everyone else and then I’ll meet you back here, awright?” he said.
“Sure thing.” I replied, “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you come back though.”
“Good. You need it.” And with that he exited the tent.

I kneeled on my sleeping bag and pulled off my sweat drenched t-shirt which clung to my skin, along with bra, the underwire causing me slight pain as I had had it on all day whilst doing labouring tasks. I didn’t even care about being topless anymore. I just wanted to cool down. I unzipped my denim shorts and tossed them to the side of the tent, now only in my undies with approximately zero fucks to give. I curled up on top of my sleeping bag and felt instant uncomfort. I could feel the hard ground beneath me, a twig trying to stab itself into my thigh. I sighed and rolled over onto my other side which faced the wall of the tent and could feel myself slowly drifting to sleep.

~

The next morning I woke late, everybody else already up and doing whatever duties they needed to do. I rolled over and looked at the place where Shane was supposed to be sleeping, but instead found an empty sleeping bag with neatly folded clothes on top, a piece of paper with messy writing scribbled onto it. I sat up and grabbed the note, holding it in my hands and squinting my eyes to be able to read it:
“I gave Lori yesterday’s clothes for her to wash. Here’s a fresh outfit, courtesy of Maggie. Love you, xx.”

I smiled as I read the letter to myself before looking over to see what Maggie had picked out for me and kindly allowed me to wear. The first thing on top of the pile was a grey racerback tank top. It was a simple and plain cut and colour, and the material was very light and thin, proving it to be a good summer top. The second thing that Maggie had picked out for me was a pair of high-rise light blue denim cut off shorts. It was clear to me that Maggie Greene had quite good taste. We were also the same size, which was quite convenient, so all of her clothes fit absolutely perfectly.