No Good (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 13

Dedication to UnderMySkin because she's an amazing writer and I love her story 'Meet Your Match' and the best part of that story? Daryl Dixon. And the writing. That's good too, don't get me wrong, it's fantastic. Check it out.

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~Rebel's POV~

The sunlight glinted through a hole in the makeshift tent I had made next to Lori, Rick and Carl's tent. The only reason it wasn't somewhere else was because this was the farthest I could get from Daryl's tent.

I heard the chirping of birds and I knew I had to get up and face the group eventually. I didn't know if anyone had seen Peter and I's kiss last night and the only way to find out was to act like nothing happened and see if they bring it up. I unzipped the hookup and shoved my combat boots on, not bothering to wear socks since they were so worn in. 

I dragged myself to the campfire where Dale was serving SPAM on bread. I took a plate of the days breakfast and sat down on a log next to Carl. I was still mad at the little brat for saying that Daryl and I liked it each other. 

Peter shuffled out of his tent and towards us. He nabbed a plate and sat next to me, closer than friendly. He ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair and started eating the repulsive concoction. I followed suit and tried not to taste the 'meat'. 

I did, however, enjoy the white bread. It wasn't stale like usual and it was actually somewhat moist. I knew Dale went to trouble for that, sprinkling some water on to the bread for our pleasure. He put everyone else before himself, and that is what made him the perfect father figure.

"Morning everyone." Rick said, smiling brightly, "I just talked with Hershel and he wants us to help out a bit today. He wants us to teach his family some shooting and the rest of us will do other things. I'm thinking today Daryl and Rebel could teach, sound good?" 

I wanted to shake my head, but it was the least I could do. I nodded and swung my bow and sheath of arrows around my shoulder, heading for an open areas with a ragged old fence with shooting targets set up.

"Ye' 'njoy that kiss las' nigh'?" Daryl spat menacingly.

"Excuse me?" I asked him, not really surprised that he had seen.

"Yer' kiss with tha' city boy. Ye' 'njoy it?" Daryl asked me.

"Why the hell do you care?" I argued, trying to avoid the care.

"Ye' 'njoy it?" I rolled my eyes. If he wanted to play childish, I could play childish. I stuck my tongue at him and started to warm up my shot. 

I strung an arrow and pulled it back to my chin, inhaling slowly. I loosened my fingers, preparing to release when I felt a presence behind me.

"Loosen up." Daryl whispered, placing his hands on my shoulders, squeezing ever so slightly. 

I did as he said and relaxed my body, trying to release all the tension that Daryl had built up inside me. As I was breathing carefully, his hand traveled down to my waist, resting over my tattoo. He applied pressure to my waist and I felt shocks traveling where ever our skin contacted.

"Shoot." he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

I released the arrow and it soared through the air a good 25 feet, hitting the bulls eye of a classical looking target. I felt Daryl let out a small smile next to my ear, making my heart flutter.

"Good shot." he whispered, his lips still brushing the sensitive flesh of my ear. 

I turned in his firm grasp and I was met with the his hard chest. I looked up and my heart skipped a beat when I realized how close he was to me.