Spiced Molasses

Chapter 33

When Daryl blinked his eyes open, he was sprawled haphazardly in the bed. He had managed a sleep so deep that it was almost disorientating to wake up from it. He was flat on his stomach and a quick assessment of the situation reminded him he hadn't been wearing clothes when he had dozed off. The sheet was just barely covering his lower half.

When his vision cleared, Daryl realised he was being watched. Beth was leaning in the doorway, looking freshly showered and holding a steaming mug of coffee.

"Morning," she greeted him.

"Were you watching me sleep?" he rasped, his mouth partly muffled by the pillow.

"You're cute when you're unconscious."

"That's vaguely threatening."

"So you are scared of me," Beth teased.

Daryl tried to muster up a scowl. Its impact was diminished by his disinclination to move. "I could throw you over my shoulder if I wanted, Greene."

"So do it," Beth invited, playfully running her toes along a line in the wooden floor.

"I said if I wanted to. I just don't happen to wanna right now."

Beth bit her lip and smirked at his obvious evasion. She slid her way into the room, all light on her feet and coy smiles. Daryl watched her, noting the mischievous glint in her eye but not questioning her motives.

The mug of coffee was carefully deposited on the bedside table and Beth flopped down next to him. She leaned over him and Daryl could feel the length of her hair tickling against his bare back. It wasn't until then that he even gave his back a second thought.

He felt a fingertip tentatively brush his skin once briefly before there was a more solid touch. Daryl fought to keep still but his muscles hardened into stone. Unexpectedly Beth didn't trace any of his scars. Her fingertips gently ran the length of his spine, ending at the napping of his neck and lightly tangling in the hair there.

"Is this ok?" Beth asked. All her previous confidence had faded and she sounded just as unsure as he felt.

"Yes." He managed to pry the word from his throat. Daryl expected to feel her fingers on his scars and was somewhat surprised when they lingered on his neck, kneading the muscles carefully. Daryl inhaled slowly and carefully, and when he released the breath slowly he tried to will some of the tension out of his shoulders. He wasn't exactly successful but Beth didn't call attention to his discomfort.

When her touch drifted lower, she was still avoiding his scars. Instead she traced the lines of ink spilling down his back.

"I like this tattoo," she commented softly. "It's kind of sexy."

Daryl half snorted, half laughed at her comment.

"What?" Beth asked, humour warming her tone.

"You. Talking about liking tattoos when you look like the kind of girl more likely to marry a farmer in his overalls."

"Haven't you ever heard the expression don't judge a book by its cover?" Beth retorted dryly.

Daryl chanced a look over his shoulder and was treated to wry expression from Beth. It made him grin a little. "You're sweet on the inside and out."

Beth rolled her eyes but he could tell that she was secretly pleased he had called her sweet. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his back, not on the dark design decorating his shoulder blades but directly to scars now. Daryl found he didn't mind the sensation of her warm lips brushing his damaged skin.