Spiced Molasses

Chapter 27

True to his word, Daryl didn't leave her while she slept. In fact he drifted off quickly himself, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the steady beat of her heart against his. Daryl had never wanted a fancy or complicated life. Growing up with nothing, he hadn't desired a lavish life. A roof over his head, enough food in his belly and no one throwing beers bottles at him when they were mad. That's all he really wanted. It hadn't worked out exactly the way he hoped. His life was messy and dangerous and he had more money than he knew what to do with. But nothing he'd experienced in his life compared to the simple pleasure of holding Beth in bed.

It was one of the better night's sleep he'd had recently. It wasn't that all his problems were solved but the presence of Beth seemed to soothe some of his cares away. Ironic since she was one of the reasons he worried so much.

They had moved in their sleep. Their bodies were facing one another and their hands were joined in between. Beth's fingers were laced through his, loose with sleep.

She hadn't drawn the blinds before climbing into bed and the sun was filtering through the window. It was the soft pastel glow of early morning and it illuminated Beth's skin, making it look like gold cream.

She was so perfect it made his heart ache and he almost wished he had poetic tendencies so he could tell her just how flawless she was. She was so warm and inviting in that moment but at the same time distant and untouchable. There had been times when Daryl had barely been able to restrain the impulse to kiss her, to touch and taste every inch of her body. Right now he was content to hold her hand and watch her slumber on.

If he was a better man, he would have let her go, pushed her from his brain and expelled her from every nerve in his own being that sparked when she was close. If he was a worse man, he would have had her by now, in every conceivable place and position. He was not a patient man but he could have spent hours dedicated to creating her pleasure, watching her come undone underneath his mouth, underneath him, until her voice was hoarse from calling for god or crying his name.

But Daryl was somewhere in between. He walked the fine line between honour and want, and it was driving him half mad. It wasn't as easy as denying his baser physical drives. He had years of practice at that. He couldn't even think of her as just another body. She had clawed her way inside of him, giving him an itch in his chest that he couldn't scratch. He was attached to her.

No, he was addicted to her.

Nothing gave him the same kind of rush as when her smile lit her up from the inside out. Her eyes would sparkle and she would look at him like he was worthy of being there. Daryl didn't think he deserved the kindness and affection of a woman like Beth but when she was gazing at him, he could almost believe it. He wanted to make her happy and be the type of man who warranted those looks.

For the first time Daryl though he might understand Merle's addictions. He had scorned his brother but if drugs made him feel even a fraction of what Beth did for Daryl, well then he almost got it. It wasn't like Daryl hadn't been tempted to try drugs himself but he hated the idea of losing control more than he hated the memories of his childhood. Then again wasn't that what was happening with Beth? Wasn't he losing his control of the situation? It was slipping away piece by piece. The warmth her mere presence evoked chased away the ghosts of his past a little, forced the shadows back where they belonged.

Beth wrinkled her nose, a precursor to her waking up. There was just too much sunlight in the room.

"Morning," Beth mumbled sleepily even before opening her eyes. The grip on his hand tightened slightly.

"You sleep alright?" Daryl asked gruffly. Now she was awake he had to find out what she learned last night but he wanted to give her a few moments before he reminded her of the harsh realities.