Angel (Daryl Dixion x Reader)

~47~

   You didn't look back at Rick as you walked away. Knowing that if you did, you'd stand out there and talk with him until you literally keeled over. So you just made your way up into the guard tower and stood on the iron balcony. Watching as lightning lashed across the sky. Taking in the reverberations of the thunder as it passes through your body. You'd always loved Georgia's summer thunder storms. The lethal beauty of them had always been so alluring to you. The cool wind it brought with it that kissed your sweat glazed skin certainly felt very good. Now understanding why Jim wanted to lay against that tree and just feel the breeze before he himself died. You light up a cigarette as the rain finally breaks loose, drenching the earth below. You closed your eyes, letting the rain sing to you against the tin roof above. Stepping back to lean against the wall behind you so the rain didn't spray you too much even though it felt amazing against your burning skin. Choosing to listen the wind howl as it picks up every once in a while. Soaking it all in. You open your eyes and your vision blurs for a moment and your stance sways. Your left hand flying to grab at the door frame, not wanting your legs to buckle with your swimming head.

"Angel-" Daryl breathes lowly with pure worry from behind you. A small half smile makes its way to your lips when you realized you hadn't heard him come up behind you. He was probably the only person alive who could sneak up on you. "M' alright, baby.." you tell him softly, not wanting to move. Not yet. It was a half lie. You were fine with dying, but physically you were staring to fade and you could tell. You'd brushed with death enough times to know what dying felt like. It felt a lot like this.. Your whole body hurt, with waves of aching stinging that was really starting to annoy you. Nothing hurt worse than your right arm though. It wasn't just your wrist anymore, the searing burn had traveled up your whole arm, and was slowly moving into your chest. It felt like that bite was a pissed off, erupting volcano, and it was slowly turning your blood into lava. Your right leg was on fire too. The femur bone felt more like a glowing hot metal rod than anything else. Your ribs felt like they had been cooked in a microwave for way too long. They felt hot, dry, and brittle. Making every breath you draw in harder do withstand. Leaving wondering if they were gonna start to splinter within your chest after every breath. As if this infection was determined to remind you of every wound you still bared.

You pull the cigarette up to your lips again, inhaling deeply as the sky flashes to life. "Ya wanna sit down?" Daryl asks as he now stands directly behind you. Your head shakes once. You wanted to stay. Wanted to listen to the storm rage. He seemed to understand that, still he stayed close to you, just in case you slid down that wall at your back. It looked like you would too. He could tell you were starting to fade, could all but feel it with you. Your face was so pale from what he could see when the lighting illuminated the sky briefly. Your lips not as vibrant with color as they usually, naturally were. Your movements were sluggish and slow, damn near struggled. Every breath you drew was slightly shorter, tighter than normal. That horrific death pant he dreaded more than anything else slowly winning its battle against your will. He knew that your fight with Tyrese the other day had only shaved precious hours off your life. That your body was struggling to heal itself. All while working over time to fight off the infection that it wouldn't be able to do. You were like a bike running hot after an accident. It wouldn't be long until your body seized up and eventually gave out. Wouldn't be long before you died, right here in this fucking tower. He honestly had no idea how you were even standing right now.

Having personally seen bites take down people twice your size already. Those people unable to do anything other than lay there and struggle to keep fighting. Or beg for sweet death, not wanting to feel the pain of slowly burning out. But here you stood. Leaned against that wall, cigarette in between your lips as you listened to the rain and feeling the thunder that rolls through both of your bodies. He leaned against the door frame, right beside you. His heart clenching when lightning cracks the sky, once, then a second time. It wasn't from the thrash of the powerful rumble that radiates through him. It was from your sheer beauty that he gets a glimpse of in the flash of white light. The way it lights up those heart stopping (e/c) eyes as they stare up with genuine wonder at natures wrath. He really thought you were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. The way your eyes seemed to recognize the similarity between this raging storm and yourself. Your left hand releases its death grip on the door frame. Moving behind yourself, searching for him. He immediately takes your hand, refraining from flinching at the heat of your skin as he laces his fingers together with yours tightly.