Something Missing [Daryl Dixon Love Story]

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

(Emma’s POV)

Daryl had fallen asleep with me in his arms last night. Only now do I know how calming his heartbeat is for me. It’s like the equivalent of a Xanax. If I were able to become numb with anxiety, the steady beating would be the only medication I’d need. Even now he sleeps and I despite my death being only a week old, I forget what it’s like. Sleeping, I don’t remember it.  I guess if I think about it though then you could consider me in an eternal sleep like the rest of them. Sure I can talk, walk, think, and feel like before but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t need to breathe or that I lack a heartbeat. The fact that I’m dead… It’s still weird to me. It’s a foreign idea that I don’t think “you’ll get used to it” applies. 

I feel him move and I instantly know it’s not a movement of sleep. He’s awake now. He groans and puts a hand to his face. 

“Emma?” he asks sleepily.

I don’t want to talk. I’m afraid I’ll lose the heartbeat. 

He moves his hand and looks at me. His face wears a look I can’t read.  He must see that I’m fine because the look goes away replaced by a more neutral look. He squints as if it’s bright in the room but the room is barely lit. “My goddamn legs are asleep.”

I frown and reluctantly unsynchronized myself with the rhythm of his heart. I sit on my legs in front of him and just watch him watch me. 

He looks like he wants to speak. Maybe to talk about last night, but I wouldn’t answer even if he did ask. It’s not something I want to talk about.

I look away. The stare becomes too intense. “I want to leave today… We’ve wasted too much time here.” 

He says nothing for a while. I think maybe his look would answer my question but I can’t look in fear that it’ll be a no. I need this and a simple indication of his opinion would be enough to change my mind. I don’t know what it is but I feel weak. I couldn’t stand to oppose him now. 

Finally, he answers. “Okay.” It’s all he says and I can’t tell much from the tone. Maybe there’s nothing to tell, but its Daryl. I never know what to expect. 

“Soon?” I ask, while still avoiding his gaze.

“Alright.”

It takes a second or two to adjust to the light. After a week in the dim light and darkness the sunlight is blinding. I know Daryl thinks so too with his exclamation of “Christ!” and the shielding of his eyes. I roll my shoulders. They aren’t use to the weight of my backpack anymore, nor the new quiver of arrows. 

“There is probably going to be a lot of walkers out. We’re in the city.” He said scanning around. Apparently he’d adjusted to the light. I, on the other hand, had to resort to sunglasses. 

“So…be on guard?” I added, feeling his words were unfinished. “I’m already dead; I don’t think I can get much worse.” I gave a lighthearted laugh. I wasn’t feeling the tension. 

He glanced at me sideways. He wasn’t amused with me. Maybe he wasn’t ready to joke about it yet. 

“Alright…” I say awkwardly. 

He stands staring down at the map when suddenly he just starts to walk. “We’re still a week and a half away from Miami. Better get going so we can try to cover the missed ground.”

I just nod and follow. I can’t help but wondering if he’ll ever stop distancing himself from me mentally and emotionally outside closed doors.