A Heart Whose Love is Innocent

A/N: This is my first time writing for The Walking Dead fandom... I have to say, Beth and Daryl have managed to completely consume my thoughts as of late. That combined with my undying admiration for poetry...

~

“If you knew today was your last day. If you knew for certain you would die tomorrow, with no chance of survivin’. What would you do?” Beth asked suddenly, breaking the silence that lay heavy between her and Daryl. It was completely dark, save for the small collection of stars sprinkled across the sky and the dull illumination of a moon half covered by the treetops above them.

“Dunno. Take a nap. Maybe go swimmin’,” Daryl answered, not giving much time or thought into his answer. Beth turned her head to face him, her expression curious.

“Really? You wouldn’t try to do somethin’ big?”

Daryl shrugged. “Life is big.”

Beth pursed her lips. “I pegged you as the type of guy who would want to go out with a bang.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“T.S. Eliot,” Daryl answered, surprisingly quickly. Beth blinked, confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Jeez, don’t they teach you kids anything in sch-...” he stopped short, redirecting his thoughts. “A poet. He was a poet.”

“What’s that have to do with-”

Daryl spoke in a low voice, barely above a whisper. “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.”

It was a long while before Beth could gather words to reply. Beth took awhile to reflect on what Daryl had said, rolling the words around in her mind.

“You wanna go out quietly,” she said simply, after several moments.

“Feels like the whole world is going out with a bang right now,” Daryl replied. He shifted, supposedly trying to find a more comfortable position against the log he was using as a makeshift pillow. “I don’t know if a bang of my own would even be heard.”

Beth frowned slightly. “Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“What would you do, then? Since my answer didn’t seem to be good enough?”

Beth didn’t answer. She was quiet for some time until she spoke up, sudden and off topic. “You like poetry, Daryl?”

Daryl let out an amused breath. “A year ago I would’ve denied it and threatened to beat you to a pulp if you told anyone.”

“Do you have any memorized?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Recite one for me?” Beth asked, her voice hopeful and sweet.

“Roses are red, violets are-”

Beth let out a soft giggle as she playfully pushed at Daryl’s chest. “A real one, dummy.”

Daryl took several short breaths before speaking, clear, soft, and low.

“She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, 
Had half impaired the nameless grace 
Which waves in every raven tress, 
Or softly lightens o'er her face; 
Where thoughts serenely sweet express 
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.”

Daryl barely got out the last line of the poem before Beth had leaned forward to gently press her lips against his.

Daryl froze, at first, in complete and utter shock. After a few seconds, he succumbed to his instinct and began moving his lips against hers, softly and ever so gently. The feeling was nothing like Daryl had ever felt. Sure, he had kissed his fair share of girls, but that was before. It was a lot different before. This was... Odd. Different. Gentle. Caring. Loving, even though Daryl couldn’t even bear to think it.

Daryl lost himself against Beth’s lips; every thought was focused on the feeling of warmth that was spreading increasingly fast away from his face.

He didn’t know how long it lasted. Too long? Not long enough? Daryl couldn’t tell you. But at some point, he realized in an instant what was going on, and pulled back abruptly.

“Why’d you stop?” Beth asked, her eyes wide and bright, yet with a glimmer of disappointment that hurt Daryl more than he was willing to admit.

“This ain’t right,” he mumbled, standing up. Beth stood up with him, following him as he started walking away.

“Who’s gonna care now?” Beth asked, her voice rising in volume and intensity. “Whose morals are we violatin’? They can’t do nothin’. It doesn’t matter. We’re all dead anyway.”

“Beth,” Daryl pleaded, turning to look her in the eye, glaring. “Keep your voice down.”

“Daryl,” Beth whispered, taking a few steps until she was speaking directly into Daryl’s ear, her voice low. “Let’s go with a whimper.”

But when Daryl reached to hold Beth’s cheek and pull her into another kiss, urgent and passionate like he had never kissed before, it didn’t feel like the world was ending. It felt it was just beginning.

And for them, it was.