The Only Universal Language is Violence (Daryl Dixon X Male OC)

8. Believe

Daryl

I find Harvey later in one of the hallways, staring at the wall with graffiti on it. His hands buried deep in his pockets, with what I learned to recognize as a thinking frown on his face.

"Hey" I speak, walking up to him. "There's... dinner." I point behind myself with a thumb.

Harvey doesn't speak, doesn't even move, his eyes running over the sentence on the wall again and again. I turn my attention to the graffiti as well. I try to make out what it says but it's useless attempts.

"la fureur est le seul langage qu'ils comprennent." Harvey speaks. "Violence is the only language they understand... First time this graffiti appeared on this wall I was the one painting it. Teachers washed it off, painted over it, they even covered it with wallpaper. But I put it back up, over and over again. I guess it passed over to the new generations too." He huffs a little, then continues. "I believed that it was the truth. That the world is messed up enough that there's no other answer to make a point than violence. After..." He sighs a little, shaking his head. Holding off a piece of the story.

Maybe he doesn't trust me enough yet. Or maybe it's just something he'd rather not say aloud. Either way I keep listening.

"Something happened. I started thinking maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was my ways that led to destruction, maybe there is another way to do things. More peaceful one, with less sacrifices and bloodshed... There's not. I should have never changed my ways. I was right all along. Ever since I was a baby."

He turns and brushes past me, walking off. I don't let him. I grab his arm, pulling him to face me.

"Yeah. You're right. There's no way to live without blood bein' spilled. Not in this world. But sometimes you gotta let yourself believe in somethin' good existin'. You gotta trust someone. You have to take that risk sometimes. Sometimes it's worth it." I speak, staring into his eyes, searching for the proof he gets what I'm saying.

I know what I'm talking about. I took those risks a little of times. A lot of times they turned out bad, sometimes it was worth it. But if I would never let myself believe into something good, even if for a split second, I'd never be where I am now.

"I've lost everything." Harvey says, now staring straight into my eyes.

"I did too. But then I found a lot of things." I shift my weight from foot to foot and take half a step closer to him. "Y'know.... I had a friend. She always told me that... there's still good people out there."

"And do you believe in it?"

"Well, you're here ain't ya?" I shrug my shoulders.

"I'm not a good person, Daryl."

"You ain't a bad one either." I retort quickly.

He shakes his head a little and I see his mouth move as he nibbles on the inside of his plum bottom lip. I swallow, realizing that I'm staring.

I always had a staring problem, I never had a problem with staring at people.

Though now it suddenly feels awkward, for me at least. Harvey doesn't seem to notice, his eyes look somewhere far away, probably still pondering over my words, or his words, or something else. Maybe his past in here.

I feel my heart speed the longer I stare at him, makes me wonder if his speeds too. Probably not. He's thinking about something serious and meaningful. Not something stupid like the perspective of feeling his lips against mine.

God, this is stupid. I'm supposed to be finding the closest way back to America not getting attached to some monk.

I take half a step closer, I'm not even sure he notices. He probably should have, but he doesn't comment on it. I lean forward just a little and then freeze there, watching Harvey's reaction. He turns his eyes to mine. I'm not sure who looks more hesitant, me or him.

I don't even know what I'm doing. I don't know what's gonna happen, how this gonna end. But I've been alone for so long, so, so long. And Harvey has been alone for a while too. I'm pretty sure he have, he's been a monk, that means he's been alone.

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm lonely. I always have been, but when I got to France I felt like everything I had, everything I found, everything I build all those years was ripped out of my chest. I felt as lonely as I was twelve years ago when I lost Merle and I had nobody else but a bunch of strangers that might stab me in the back around me.

But after I met Harvey I didn't feel as lonely, it wasn't like that, he saved me and he was good to me when I was nobody to him. He's people Beth was talking about. I know it.

He's not a bad person. And I can see bad and good people clear as day. He cares about Laurent, and maybe I can be the next person he cares about, and maybe I can care about him.

It wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Harvey closes the space between us, but doesn't cross it, leaving about an inch between our noses.

Is that a go ahead? Or is that I'm not exactly into it but why not? Or something entirely else?

I'm fifty five years old and I don't have my shit together. I'm pathetically not good with people. Not good with people at all. Never have been.

Ay, fuck it.

I lean forward, closing my eyes and the distance between us I place my lips over his. I feel his breath hit my face as he sighs through his nose. I think he let out some kind of noise, but I'm not sure with my heart beating in my ears so loudly.

It's only a light kiss. But it makes me feel like a damn teenager. I really have been alone for a while. I haven't done this for like what, twelve years? Last my actual human contact like that was that drunk one night stand a few weeks before the apocalypse.

Harvey's fingers touch my neck making me want to pull him in closer, but before I can Harvey pulls away. I take a moment to take a breath before opening my eyes, meeting Harvey's. Nice silence quickly turns awkward as we just glare into each other's eyes. Harvey points to behind me with one finger.

"Dinner." He murmurs, sounding awkward and hesitant.

"Right." I swallow.

I realize that my hand is still gripping his arm firmly and release my grip on him, letting Harvey go. Without another word he walks past me, disappearing down the hallway. I'm a little thankful for that, if we'd stay here for a while longer I'd die from embarrassment and possibly a heart attack.

I glance at the graffiti on the wall and then down the hallway where Harvey disappeared and sigh, walking towards the dining room.

I'm not sure if I regret that. I'm not sure I should regret it. God, this is way too complicated for a little old me.