In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 71: How It's Gotta Be

**WARNING SEMI SMUT AHEAD**

Two days had turned into one.

Daryl and Tara had gone rogue, making their own move against the Saviors without telling anyone. They'd driven a truck straight through the walkers surrounding the Sanctuary, letting the undead feast while the Saviors paid the price.

I leaned over the counter, popping a grape into my mouth, when Daryl walked in. He froze in the doorway, eyes locking on me. Tara lingered behind him for a beat, then muttered something about checking the perimeter before slipping out.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked quietly.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't think you'd—"

"I didn't think I'd what? Approve?" I cut him off. "We had a plan.  And you just... went off it."

"I know," he said, stepping closer. "But they were down, Jo. We had to take the chance. It had to happen fast."

I crossed my arms, swallowing the fear twisting in my stomach. "It was too risky. You could've gotten hurt—or worse." My voice softened. "I get why you did it... I just wish you'd told me first."

His eyes softened as he stepped closer, calloused hands cupping my cheeks. "I'm sorry. Next time, I'll tell you."

I let myself look at him fully, feeling the tension in my chest ease slightly. "You scared me," I admitted quietly.

"I know," he murmured, pulling me into his arms. "I don't like seein' you scared."

I leaned against him, letting his warmth ground me. Anger still simmered, but it was mixing with relief... and something heavier, hotter, that made my pulse race.

He tilted my chin up, eyes dark with something that made my knees weak. I didn't pull away. His lips met mine slowly at first, teasing, then deepened with a hunger that had me gasping. My hands tangled in his hair, clutching him as if I could anchor myself to him forever.

"Daryl," I breathed, barely above a whisper, but it sounded more like a plea than a name.

He backed me toward the hallway, pressing closer until the counter was out of reach, hands roaming my waist, over my hips, teasing the curve of my body. The kiss was relentless, claiming, full of fire and promise.

I let him guide me toward the bedroom, our breaths ragged, hearts hammering in sync. The door clicked closed behind us, shutting out the world.

Daryl's hands didn't stop, tracing paths along my skin, sliding beneath my shirt to press his warmth against me. I shivered, grinding closer instinctively. His lips trailed down my neck, teasing, biting just enough to make me mewl.

"Fuck, Jo..." His voice was rough, low, urgent. "I need you."

I moaned against him, tugging at his shirt, feeling the heat between us thrum with desire. Every inch of him pressed into me, and I melted, letting go of fear, of caution, of everything but the fire burning between us.

By the time we collapsed onto the bed, tangled together, the world outside didn't exist. His hands, his lips, his touch—it all seared me from the inside out, leaving me breathless and trembling. I clung to him, every movement a promise, every gasp a confession.

Because right now, nothing else mattered

        ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The sun slipped beneath the horizon, surrendering the sky to the moon. Tomorrow was the day. The day that might—hopefully—mean a new beginning.