Double Crossbow (Daryl Dixon) [The Walking Dead]

Chapter 47 ↣ Where is he?

"In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine."

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

↣ ↢

Kathryn

A SUDDEN ABSENCE of heat roused me from the depths of sleep. As a shiver made its way down my spine, my eyes fluttered open to see Daryl was out of bed. "What are you doing?" I grumbled.

He looked over his shoulder at me and smirked. "Getting ready for the day, Sunshine. What are you doing?" I frowned at the snark dripping from his voice. "Don't pout at me," he added as he knelt beside the bed.

Propping myself up on my shoulder, I replied, "I'll do as I wish." I hardly had time to react to the sudden mischievous glint in his eyes before I was tackled and pinned to the bed. It took a few seconds before I was completely trapped. Pathetic.

"What was that?" Daryl asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I shouldn't be so cocky in the morning," I huffed.

Daryl chuckled lightly before his face fell into a more serious expression. "You okay? I been waking up before you every now and then."

I shrugged. "Maybe...I'm starting to..."

"What?" Daryl asked, more worry pulling at his features.

"Starting to relax a little bit."

Daryl leaned close to my ear. "Maybe I should let you get to bed earlier, hmm?"

"Oh, get the fuck off me!" I exclaimed, pushing back at his shoulders. This did nothing to help my case. He simply barked out a laugh and pressed lazy morning kisses along my neck, convincing me rather quickly to give up my fight. I sigh of relief escaped me. My secret was safe from my other half.

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As we walked out to breakfast, greetings were thrown at us from every direction. I tried to reply with a small smile. Daryl, however, was a deer in headlights. He didn't understand why the people here liked him so much. I certainly saw his appeal, but he didn't quite see it yet. A sense of pride poked at my heart. He had come so far from the feral hunter I met in those woods all those months ago. Of course he still had his temper and his tell-it-like-it-is attitude, but he wouldn't quite be Daryl without those things either.

"Smells good," Daryl said to Carol as he grabbed two plates of food.

"Just so you know," she started, "I liked you first."

He smirked at her and glanced down at me as if asking for my comeback.

I scoffed. "Well I sure as hell didn't like you."

Daryl frowned at me. "Hey—"

I grabbed my plate from him. "You stole my kill," I growled with no real malice behind my voice.

"Whatever," he said then turned back to Carol. "You know Rick brought in a lot of them too."

"Not recently," Carol replied. "Give the stranger sanctuary, keeping people fed, you're gonna have to learn to live with the love. Both of you."

I'd take all the love from the kids here. I didn't care so much what the other's thought.

"I need you guys to see something," she finished. "Patrick, you wanna take over?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Patrick replied.

He was about Carl's age, lanky, and well read. I liked him. Always thought of a different interpretation to my book recommendations than the one I thought he'd make. Carol passed off the utensils and we went to walk away but Patrick said, "Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, I just wanted to thank you both for bringing that deer back yesterday. It was a real treat. And, sir, I'd be honored to shake your hand."