AND THEN I FOUND YOU » Daryl Dixon

7. THE SHOWER INCIDENT

To be re-written

Had the previous night been all a dream? She wasn't sure.

The last thing Jasmin could remember was falling asleep on the grass out in the prison yard and yet somehow, she was back in her bed, shoes off and blanket over her. It would be a shame if it were all a dream. Talking to Daryl was much more pleasant than she thought it would be. She liked the way it felt when he sat next to her and how she got to open herself up just a little bit to him even though they hardly knew each other. Despite his intimidating appearance, he was quite comfortable to be around.

Perhaps this was a dream she was currently having. She pinched the side of her wrist and let out a sharp hiss.

The only conclusion as to how she got in her bed was that Daryl carried her back when she fell asleep. He did not seem the type to carry a girl back to bed and take her shoes off. Perhaps she should've taken the phrase 'don't judge a book by its cover' more seriously.

Did he carry her back because he actually did care about her?

She shook the ridiculous thought out of her head and pushed the covers off her body, grabbing some spare clothes and underwear sitting on the shelf as she made her way out of the cell and towards the shower block.

Hardly anyone was awake. It was quite early and the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky so the showers would be empty. She didn't exactly choose to wake up so early every day, it had just become a sort of routine. Sometimes she'd just wish her brain would let her sleep in so the days would be shorter.

She hadn't bothered to put her boots on though she'd wished she did, the concrete made it feel like she was walking on ice and her feet were aching to feel some warmth. She walked into the shower room, letting her clothes fall to the floor and unclasped her necklace then placed it next to her clothes on the sink.

A grimace spread across the face that looked back at her as she stared into the mirror at her now exposed body. Her skin seemed like the only thing wrapped around her body. No fat, no muscle, just skin. Patience was key to getting back to a healthy weight, but her patience was already running thin. She could hardly stand to look at herself in the mirror. At least some color had started to come back into her face. The only quality she found redeemable of her appearance was her hair. Some strands had been coated in a vibrant shade of red from some berries she had found in the forest prior to being taken in.

She twisted the shower knob and felt the warm water cascade onto her body, causing her to let out a sound of pleasure. The water seeped into the cuts on her hand from gardening with Hershel. It was a small price to pay to do something she liked, basically a rule of life these days.

The water poured over her head as she looked at the ground and watched as the red dye washed out and escaped down the drain.

Nothing good lasts too long anymore.

She turned the shower off, leaving her standing in the humid air. A towel hung from a small shelf next to the sink; not one of those soft, fluffy towels though, but one that was matted and almost peeled your skin off with a simple rub. That's what you get for settling in a prison of all places.

After drying off, she pulled on some underwear, and pants, about to throw on her shirt when none other than Daryl Dixon walked into the room without a care in the world.

He looked her way, realizing what he had just walked in on. His eyes dragged up and down her body as if they had a mind of their own before their eyes connected.

"Shit, sorry." He spun around.

A hideously red blush crept on her face as she quickly pulled a black tank top over her head and tugged on her wrist warmers, concealing her once-exposed forearms. She couldn't see his face but knew he had the same rosiness painted over his cheeks. The familiar feeling of delightful nausea began to fill her stomach once again.

"You, uh- you can turn around now," she stammered.

Daryl turned back around and as expected, his face was a slight shade of pink. He lifted his hand up to his bottom lip and rubbed it with his forefinger. "Didn't think anybody would be in here," he explained in a rough voice.

"Don't worry about it." She stood awkwardly staring at him not knowing what to say. What could she say? He just saw her half-naked for crying out loud.

As they both stood staring at each other, the tension in the room became excruciatingly evident. How was she supposed to come back from a situation like this? Daryl cleared his throat, his eyes darting back and forth between Jasmin and the floor.

Her eyes unintentionally wandered down his body and stopped when they reached the bottom half of his body. He clearly hadn't noticed the large print that had now tented his pants.

Because of her?

A breath caught in her throat and she quickly looked back up. "I should go!"

She hurried out of the room trying her best not to look him in the eye. God knows that's the last thing either of them needed at that moment.

The cold floor didn't bother her anymore, her entire body was too hot and flustered from the situation she had just been in. Never had she been so embarrassed. But there was something about the thought of him catching her in that state that also invoked a reaction that was the complete opposite of embarrassment.

She was about to reach her cell's entrance when she noticed the lack of chain around her neck. In the midst of all the humiliation, she had forgotten to take her necklace from the sink – the one thing that prevented her from forgetting what her parents looked like.

With a frustrated groan, she turned on her heel and began walking back to the bathroom. Her mind had completely blocked out the sound of running water coming from the showers as the only thing that ran through her mind was the pictures being ruined. But that didn't last too long.