A relatively quiet few days passed.
Daryl and I returned to our usual routine. During the nights, we would take our place in the western watch tower and spent the days either hunting or helping out in random places around the prison. I was unusually closed off from him during those hours we spent together, and he noticed almost immediately. Whilst we sat on our shitty lawn chairs atop the watch tower, the glow of the half moon illuminating the troubled lines on his face, he asked me what was wrong.
I did my best to pass it off as my concern for Mason, as the kid had become withdrawn and quiet since returning from the store, but I knew Daryl could see right through my attempts to dismiss my own sudden introversion. Well, not introversion, per se. As he said, I’d been perfectly myself around everyone else. It was only around him that I was… different. Stiffer, less talkative.
I hadn’t meant to be, of course. Being around Daryl was usually the only thing that made me feel… I don’t know, safe? Relaxed? But that was part of the problem.
How had I only just realized how much he had come to mean to me? It was as if my brain had just pretended not to notice until my idiotic ass made the shitty decision to ask that damn question of myself.
Would I be able to keep my head if something happened to him?
It wasn’t as if I could come out and say I was struggling to figure out how to talk to him with that damn thought bouncing around in my skull, very irritatingly pointing out the warm feeling that spread inside my chest every time I looked at him.
Honestly, I had been enjoying living in a state of perpetual ignorance. I didn’t need to know that I’d grown irresponsibly close to the man sitting next to me. I’d been perfectly comfortable in the forgiving realm of active denial. There had been absolutely no reason for me to step outside those protective walls.
Try as I might, however, I couldn’t seem to wedge myself back in. Every moment spent with him was like actively reminding myself of my realisation that night outside of Beth’s cell. Lately, it was like his proximity was the metaphorical equivalent of someone screaming “YOU LIKE HIM” right into my damn ear, to which I would respond with a metaphorical “SHUT THE FUCK UP” by not-so-subtly scooting slightly away from him.
Anyway, the point is… he noticed.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to put two-and-two together. Instead, he allowed the air between us to grow tense and stilted, and once our watch for that night ended at first light, he marched down to the cell block and disappeared into his cell without a word.
Okay. Admittedly, that kind of hurt.
I quickly busied myself in an attempt to avoid thinking on it, entering my own cell and chipperly greeting the forlorn Mason, who was lying on his side on his bunk, sulking into the shadows.
Forgoing my false cheer, I gave a concerned frown and sunk down onto the edge of his mattress. “Hey. Come on, kiddo.”
He made a grunt in response.
“I know you’re feeling like shit,” I said softly. “But you can’t just stop, man. You gotta keep moving.”
Again, he remained silent. His back was to me, the lines of his spine detailed through the thin material of his faded yellow t-shirt. He’d put on some weight since we’d found him, after a rather long stint of me practically shoving food into his mouth like some kind of concerned grandmother. The hollows of his cheeks had filled out, the darkness beneath his eyes clearing. You could no longer see his ribs. But he was still skinny.
YOU ARE READING
The Monsters Among Us ➳ Daryl Dixon
Fanfiction𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯/𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 Not human. She was not human. They all knew it. Could almost feel it, but couldn't make sense of it. That was why they were afraid. Not because of what she used to be Before. But...
