"Daryl??"
I don't know what I expected to happen when I confessed, but it was not the snort and snicker that Rick just let out.
Cheeks literally on fire, my gaze jerks back up; Rick is grinning again, a goofy, country-boy grin, obviously suppressing laughter, and I regret having thrown my only weapon at him already.
Glaring, I kick my leg out instead, catching him in the shin. The man flinches slightly, but does not stop chuckling.
"I'm sorry," Rick snorts again, not sounding sorry at all, "I just... didn't expect you to say.. that."
"Who did you think I meant??" I sound incredulous, but it's only because my voice is suddenly an octave higher than I remember it being.
"You were being so serious, I thought you meant Glenn, or someone else that was married or something!"
I huff, still willing my cheeks to cool down so I don't give myself a heat stroke. I resort to placing my much-cooler palms on my face; my hands are always cold, but at least this time it's coming in handy. "I am serious." I mumble, no longer amused by Rick's chortling.
"Right, I know," he lets out one last chuckle, then takes a breath, that softer, more reserved smile returning to his lips. "Have you tried talking to him?"
This time, I snort. "To Daryl? Are you kidding? He barely even talks to you."
To this, I get a shrug. "Actually, Daryl has a lot to say. Just takes the right topic."
"See, that's another thing - I can't recall ever speaking to him. I don't even know if we have anything in common!"
Rick raises one of his brows at me, looking puzzled. "Then... how do you even know you have a crush on him?"
'That's embarrassing.'
I feel myself blushing again, starting to heat up my palms still resting against my face.
I know that I've developed a crush on Daryl because, ever since I met him, I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of him. I don't just mean that he's so hot I can't stop staring (he is), but it's the things he does that intrigue me as well. The hunting, working on his bike, the way he interacts with the people he loves, the way he shows rather than tells people how he cares for them.. all of these things are what pulls me to Daryl, the man that probably doesn't even know my name.
"Long story," I murmur instead, deciding that I don't want to be laughed at again.
With a wary nod, Rick stands up, adjusting his Wrangler jeans and smiling at me again.
"Well, there you go. You have to start talking with him. Figure out if your crush is a crush or if you feel connected to him at all."
"What if there isn't? A connection, I mean?" I stand with him, pulling at the hem of my shirt, frowning at his shrug.
"Then you get to move on."
"Well.. what if there is?"
We stare at each other for a moment, and that unreadable expression crosses his face again, but, once again, he looks away before I can make it out.***
"Then you talk about it. With him."
I stand there, in Rick's living room, feeling awkward and uncomfortable and vulnerable, and unsure of what I'm supposed to do next. Just go running to Daryl's garage? He may not even be home anymore, he and Aaron do recruitment runs pretty often.
"I don't think anything will happen," I mumble, mostly to myself, as Rick has begun moving back into the kitchen, taking his kid's would-be snacks with him to presumably store for later. Tilting my head, I realize that maybe I can offer Daryl a snack, even if he may not want it. I'm not sure I've ever seen him eat unless everyone else was also eating.
"Can I have one of those? And some water?"
I leave Rick's with two water bottles and one of his little snack baggies of homemade trail mix, fully prepared to start my first conversation with Daryl.
Except I'm so anxious about it that I feel sick.
What do I even say?
'Hey, big, tough biker dude, need some food?'
God, that's awful.
'Have any water lately?'
What am I, his mom?
'I was just walking by...'
Liar.
Before I know it, my feet have carried me a block down and up a small incline towards Daryl's own two-story condo that I'm pretty sure he shares with Aaron and his boyfriend. I'm two houses away before I stop completely. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, but I don't know why I'm so scared. The worst that can happen is he thanks me for the fucking water and shoos me off like another kid. At least then I could probably get some idea of how he feels towards me, because, right now, I have no fucking clue.
"Are you okay?"
The voice makes me physically jump, almost dropping everything in my hands. I spin around to face Aaron, who towers over me at 6'1" and looks down at me with a quizzical stare.
"Jesus, Aaron!" I snap, trying to tone it down with a soft, frazzled laugh. I don't like yelling at people, or having people think I'm angry with them. "You scared the shit out of me!"
Aaron just smiles back, adjusting the bulky blue backpack slung over his shoulder. "Apologies. I was on my way to start a run and saw you just kind of standing here.. you kind of looked like a walker. Just wanted to make sure you were still alive."
I can see that he's only half joking, but I laugh anyway, remaining lighthearted. "Yeah, I'm okay, man. Thank you."
I tilt my head at his pack. "You said a run - for people or product?"
He shrugs a little, blue eyes squinting against the morning light, overcast as it may be. "I guess both? It would be nice having a couple extra pairs of hands."
I nod in agreement, then glance down at the two water bottles in my hand. Realizing I don't need a second one, I pass one to our recruitment officer, smiling warmly. "Here. You'll need it out there."
Eyebrows knitting together, Aaron starts to shake his head. "I won't be out there for very long-"
"Take it." I insist, pressing the chilled plastic into his hand, grinning. "I don't need it anyway! I'd rather you stay safe and hydrated."
Finally, he smiles back gratefully, and it's then that I notice how tired he looks. His usually bright blue eyes have grown dull, and the bags under his eyes are almost as prominent as my own. Aaron has been a good friend to me since coming here, dare I say like family. I care about him, and find myself hanging out with him often, when he's not out recruiting or looking for supplies. Frowning, I lean back a little, putting my weight on my right side. "Have you been sleeping?"
I get an immediate shrug for that, a quick jerk of the shoulders rather than an actual gesture. "Enough. I have to head out, there's not a lot of daylight these days, you know?"
As close as I consider myself to Aaron, he's been awfully distant lately. I nod at him, telling myself I'll come check on him when he returns from wherever he's going.
"Are you going to be back before dark?"
"That's the plan," Aaron smiles lopsidedly at me, backing away in the direction of the gate, holding up the water I gave him. "Thank you for this. I'll see you around!"
"Be careful, please, Aaron!" I call after him, watching him wave as he turns his back to me. I huff, knowing he isn't really listening to my warnings. He knows how to handle himself, way better than me, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about my friend. Silently, I wish him the best, smiling, before turning back to face my original destination.
The street around me is empty. No more distractions. No more procrastinating.
Time to find out how Daryl views me. Hopefully not as just some kid, the way Rick and Glenn see me.
With a deep breath, shaking out my nerves, I grip the last water bottle in my hand, adjust the trail mix baggie, and start up the incline, ready to finally face the hunter.
'There's no need to be that dramatic.'
