Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

f I f t y

Happy chapter fifty :):):)

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Two weeks had come and gone. The group had strengthened the walls surrounding the prison, embracing the metal walls by using blockage and other support systems. It wasn’t the strongest, but it would hold until they could do something permanent.

 

Most slept in the warehouse, but Presley and Zeva kept to themselves in a house just a block away. They didn’t really go near the warehouse. Once the houses had been cleaned of roamers and checked for weapons, the group allowed themselves to settle. However, nobody walked around without a gun belted to their hip.

 

Daryl did his best to watch Presley, but it was hard when she put so much space between them. He was torn between being mad at her for leaving, and protecting her. He’d tried to understand her reasons, and limited himself to only beating Stefan once, but he just couldn’t bring himself to get over the fact that she’d left him.

 

He was surprised to see her standing in front of the warehouse. Her hair was up, uncloaking the taut expression on her face. Her pale hands were clenched into tight fists, as tight as they would go. He thought about approaching her, but decided against it just as she turned and walked away. Zeva followed at her heels, the dog lacking the usual hop in her step. Behind him Judith squealed.

 

“She’s been distant.” Rick pointed out.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Why?”

 

“She likes ‘er privacy.” He lied. He promised he wouldn’t tell anybody why she wouldn’t stay with them. After saving them all they would move in a heartbeat, but they could do nothing if she did not tell them… By the looks of it, she had no intention in telling anybody. Himself and Stefan were the only ones who knew.

 

“We can’t protect each other when she’s all the way over there.” Rick said. Daryl just grunted in reply.

 

“Good luck reasonin’ with ‘er.” Daryl said, raising his chin. He drew his tongue over his lips to moisten them. They both watched as the head of raven-black hair walked away with no intention in ever going near that warehouse again.

 

- - -

 

The hot Georgia sun was almost too hot to handle. Unfortunately for her, the sun had this great attraction to her hair, so her pale skin always suffered from this attraction. She had a large supply of sunscreen that she smothered over her skin every time she even thought about taking a step outside.

 

Just as she was rubbing the rest of the lotion onto her face, there was a loud nocking on the door. She paused, glaring at the front door out of the corner of her eye. Roamers didn’t knock, and she couldn’t think of any male specimen that would be bothering her right now. It had to be female.

 

She approached the door, hand casually on the handle of her knife as she peaked around the corner. Short brown hair and wide blue eyes stared back at her, frightened by something. The girl lifted a brown object, which she immediately identified as bread. She stepped to the side to let Maggie in.