Angel (Daryl Dixion x Reader)

~65~

You run up the stairs. Your bare feet making you quiet but not exactly silent. Daryl behind you in nothing but his sleep pants, however, he was not even trying to be quiet in his racing up the stairs, hot on your heels. You both ran down the hall way, and your husband damn near slid into you when you stop and aim your pistol up at Paul who was sitting at the top of the stairs. "..Hi." He says as he stares at you with a slightly amused look on his face. "How the fuck, did you get in here?" You growl as you side step up the stairs, keeping his head in your pistols sight. He breathes a laugh at you and glances at Daryl who held him in his pistols sight as well. "Through the front door?" He asks as if there should be some other way he should have entered the house. Your teeth grit, finger itching to pull the trigger. "Where's Shane!?" You snarl, absolutely enraged. Paul raises a brow, "The angry brunette? Probably still guarding the door on the ground level." Paul tells you simply. Noticing how your eyes scan him for any sign of fresh blood. "I didn't kill him. If that's what you're worried about." He reassures you. "If ya hurt him- You'd best pray." Daryl growls up at him. Paul snickers and slides a slightly offended look over at your husband. "I think we've already established that I'm not cold hearted, Daryl." Paul tells him coolly. "What. Do. You. Want." You growl lowly. Preparing to shoot him of you didn't like his answer. Paul smiles and glances over at you, opening his mouth to answer you.

Another gun clicks, as Carl steps from around the corner. "What the hell are you doin' in our house?" Carl asks lowly. Paul snickers as he eyes you. His eyes dancing in amusement more than anything. "I'm, uh... sitting on the steps. Looking at this painting, waiting for your mom and dad to get dressed." Paul tells Carl. Your eyes narrow, and so does Carls one eye before it lands on you in utter confusion. You half shrug at him, equally confused. "Hi... I'm Jesus." He tells all of you. Your eyes narrow on this man again. Daryl had said that he'd told them his friends had called him Jesus. He could of killed some of you in your sleep if he'd wanted too. Especially if you hadn't of been up, thank god you had been. Even with all the heat aimed at him. Here this man was. Trying to make friends? You hear rapid foot steps running down the hall and Carl turns around. "Carl, hey, um.." Rick stammers out as he steps around the corner. He was bucking his gun belt around his jeans, no shirt, and Michonne was slipping her shirt on. Normally you'd of grinned at this. But given the situation you didn't. You kept your eyes trained on Paul. The front door damn near gets kicked in when Shane, Glenn, Abraham, and Tara all bust through the door. All of them taking immediate aim at Paul. Michonne holds her hand out at all of you, "It's- It's okay." She tells all of you. Everyone but Shane, Daryl, and you lower their aim. "You said we should talk. So let's talk." Rick says as he unballs his blue button up shirt to put on.

You sigh as you lower your aim, and so does Shane and Daryl. "Well. Good fuckin' mornin'." You grumble over at Shane who winces at that. You roll your eyes and step down to the kitchen. "I'm puttin' coffee on." You state. "Thank god." Tara sighs as she goes to help you. Your hand slides over Daryl's bare side as you pass him. Silently telling him to go ahead and go get dressed first, then you would. Daryl huffs in utter annoyance at Paul and hurry's down stairs to do just that. You and Tara put coffee on and put mugs on the table where Rick had Paul and everyone else sit down. As soon as Daryl was back and dressed you raced down stairs to get dressed too. By the time you came back up you found, Paul on one end of the table, Rick and Michonne on rather side of him. Carl and Maggie across from each other by Rick and Michonne, while Glenn took the other end of the table. Carl, Glenn, and Maggie all had their guns on the table. A threat and silent warning not to try anything. Rick glances at you as you walk up and brush by your very aggravated husband. Daryl was glaring daggers at Paul, his own pistol in hand as his trigger finger no doubt itches. Shane was directly beside Aberham as they loom menacingly behind Glenn. Your sly proud smirk comes up on your lips as you saunter over to stand against the wall behind Rick. Leaning right against the wall, beside the shelf there. Paul glances at you and your head cocks to the side. A more curious gesture than anything considering he didn't seem nervous at all. Rick's eyes slide from you to Paul.