A Walking Dead Love

Chapter 36- Paradise, Short Lived

Chapter 36- Paradise, Short Lived

My breath was cut off from the air, my hands clawed at the fist that held me in place. Though my eyes couldn't find the person I knew instantly who it was by the sound of his voice.

The Governor.

With an evil smirk, he leaned in close, showing his face to me which only disgusted me. "Any last words?" He asked, his grip growing even tighter, cutting any words I had left to say.

I could feel my body start to go numb, turning to pins and needs as if my entire body had fallen asleep.

Before my air was entirely gone the Governor's grip slowly released, his eyes growing wide as the sound of a crossbow releasing an arrow echoed in the small room.

The Governor's body fell to the ground, an arrow sticking out of his head. My hand rubbed my sore throat, my eyes looked up at the man who saved me. Daryl stood before me, breathing heavily as he looked down at the dead body.

A smile spread on my lips, pushing my legs to help me up. Suddenly the sound of Michonne's sword being yanked out of its case echoed in my ears. But before I could react, Michonne's sword was plunged into Daryl's gut causing my eyes to open wide and my mouth to release Daryl's name in a blood curtailing cry.

Suddenly my eyes flew open, my body quickly sitting up from its comfortable spot in the open coffin. I looked over to find Daryl gone from his coffin, throwing my body into tense mode. My hands gripped the coffin while my body jumped out of it, quickly carrying me out of the viewing room.

"Daryl?" I called, my head looking around in hopes I could find him. Sure enough, his body walked out of the kitchen, one hand holding a container of pig's feet. "You alright?" He asked, a confused and concerned look written on his face.

A sigh of relief left my lips, causing me to run a hand over my pony-tale. "Yeah, just a nightmare."

"Must have been pretty bad," Daryl said, pulling out a pig's foot and eating it. The sound of cans rattling caused my body to return to its tense feeling, causing Daryl's to do the same. Slowly he sat the jar down, his hand picking up his crossbow as he slowly opened the door.

A dog whined at the front door, making another sigh of relief fill my body. At the sight of Daryl pointing a crossbow at it, the dog made a run for it, clearly choosing the outside world instead of Daryl.

"Stupide dog," Daryl said, closing the door as he looked at me, "Hungry?" A nod started my feet, working them like a machine as they carried me into the kitchen.

The rest of the day was made up of Daryl and I playing different card games, using food and pop as our tokens, and me packing my bag just in case. Before we knew it the sun had set once again, bring night back to us.

A small lamp lit the kitchen, bringing light to the paper I was writing on. My boots sat on Daryl's lap as he ate yet another pig's foot. My eyes were glued on the paper I was writing on, taking my mind to another planet.

Anyone else's voice would have been drawn out, but Daryl's always brought me back. "Whatcha writing?"

I shrugged, "Just something that popped in my head." My hand stopped and my eyes looked at Daryl. He gestured to the paper that sat on my legs with his hand, "Let's hear it."

I pushed the paper to my chest, shaking my head as it turned red, "No way."

"Come on," Daryl said, but I continued to shake my head. He shrugged, pushing his almost empty jar to the side before saying, "Fine." Before anything else could happen, his hands attacked me, making my body sink deeper into the chair and a laugh escape my lips.