million dollar man | twd

ɢʀᴀᴛᴇꜰᴜʟ

[ grateful ]

꧁꧂

Vanessa was in the common area, sorting through the food they still had left. Her mind was elsewhere, though, still reeling from Daryl's return and their earlier conversation. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Merle until he was standing right next to her, a smug look on his face.

"Hey there, darlin'," Merle drawled, leaning against the table. "Still messin' around with the hard stuff?"

Vanessa froze, her back stiffening as she turned to glare at him. "Don't talk to me, Merle."

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and sauntering closer. "Oh, come on now. You got any to spare? Maybe a little something to take the edge off?"

"Leave me alone," she said through gritted teeth, trying to walk past him.

Merle blocked her path, his smirk widening. "You know, you're the reason Daryl's gone soft. Can't take care of yourself, so you latch onto him like a parasite."

She tried to push past him, but he stepped in her way again, leaning in close.

"It's a damn shame you're wastin' yourself in this place. You could be livin' it up, you know. With someone who knows how to show a girl a good time."

Vanessa rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, continuing to sort through the supplies. "Not interested."

Ignoring her words, Merle moved closer, his presence oppressive. Merle chuckled, his voice low and suggestive. "Aw, come on now. Don't be like that. We could have some fun, you and me."

Before she could react, he reached out and she jumped, feeling his hand grabbing her ass.

"Hey!" she shouted. Without hesitation, she punched him hard in the face, the impact sending him staggering back. "Don't you ever touch me again! I don't care if you're Daryl's brother, I will kill you if you try that again."

At that moment, Daryl walked in, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene. "What the hell is goin' on here?"

Vanessa didn't even look at him, her anger and adrenaline still pumping. "Ask your brother," she snapped, storming past Daryl and out of the room.

Daryl turned to Merle, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. "What did you do?"

Merle wiped the blood from his mouth, a smirk still playing on his lips. "Just havin' a little fun. She's got a helluva punch, though."

Daryl's fists clenched, his anger barely contained. "You stay away from her. I mean it, Merle. This ain't a joke. You pull this shit again, and you're on your own."

Merle sneered, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps realization, perhaps regret. "Whatever you say, little brother."

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