Trouble ▪ Daryl Dixon [UNDER EDITING]

2 [EDITED]

Daryl Dixon studied the small girl in front of him with worry.

He had watched her body sway with discomfort before falling to the ground.

His boot nudged her side, praying she wasn't dead. He didn't wanna have to deal with someone else's light weight.

A calloused hand ran over his scruffy, growing beard. Studying the girl, intensely.

She had minor cuts and bruises that littered her face, several knives, a single gun, what looked to be a makeshift machete and most importantly a bullet hole in her thigh.

He had surely lost the deer he had been tracking by now and he cursed himself in his head. He should've left her to die, but something deep down inside of him egged him on to help her.

Her hair cascaded around her in a beautiful chestnut halo and Daryl sighed.

He knew she could be dangerous to the group back "home", if he could ever call it that.

Home hadn't been something physically possible for a while. It hadn't even been a thought.

But why did he care if she was dangerous? She could kill them all and he could care less.

As he mentally scolded himself for helping her he found himself leaning down to wrap his muscular arms around her torso.
Bringing her body flush against his chest, he shifted uncomfortably. He'd never been this close to a girl before.

Her breathing was shallow as her chest rose slowly. His arms grasped tightly onto the frail girl, watching the blood drip from her injury.

The autumn leaves crunched under his feet, making him feel satisfyingly powerful for some odd reason.

He was soon met with the worried eyes of various group members.

"Oh my gosh." He heard Lori gasp, a hand clasping her mouth in astonishment.

"She's hurt." Daryl said gruffly, shifting from foot to foot, highly uncomfortable with all the attention he had suddenly gained.

He could only pray that Merle didn't leave his tent.

"Who's she?" Shane said, licking some sort of substance off his fingers and jabbing a thumb in the direction of the unconscious girl Daryl held in his arms.

Daryl just shrugged, his eyes glancing at the girl. Only to make sure she's still breathing he told himself. Although, even he couldn't deny that she was pretty.

"You can't bring random strangers to our camp." Shane reprimanded, his eyes examining the girl with caution.

"You don't tell me what to do." Daryl growled, shoving the girl into Shane's arms.

Shane's eyes narrowed with anger, he certainly didn't wanna be in charge of her.

Shane went to shove the girl back into Daryl's arms when Lori stopped him.

"She's not a rag doll. Don't pass her around like one." Lori hissed, her hand running over the girls fingers, ever-so-slightly.

Lori had a strange sense of protectiveness over the girl.

"Take her to the R.V, Carol and I will make sure she gets fixed up." Lori assured and Daryl let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"We're really gonna waste our supplies on some random girl?" Shane questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes we are. Because we're good people and I'd hope someone would help us if we were ever in this sort of position." Lori smiled, leading Shane and the girl away to the R.V.

Daryl didn't know why but he felt a strange aura to this girl.

Something that seemed to lure him in and wrap it's slender fingers around his wrists.

Daryl Dixon felt trapped and not in a good way.