The winter was brutal; another test of the whole group's strength. It felt like mother nature was throwing all she could at you all. From the numbing below zero temperatures to the blowing blizzards of perfectly white snow. The bitter nights where even the low burning fire couldn't warm you up and the ice that slicked up the roads.
It was a struggle to find food and shelter, but thankfully you all had some winter clothing. The group was tired, hungry, freezing and beginning to give up on the little hope that was left.
"Here." Daryl's gruff southern voice breaks through your thoughts, as you sit on the porch of the abandoned and supplyless house.
In his hand that was extended out to you, was a small granola bar. The wrapper faded and worn, but food nonetheless.
Taking it from his hand, he sits beside you on the old wooden porch. His boots putting markings in the snow and his low sigh freezing in the air.
"Did you find something to eat?" Your voice is soft; words becoming harder to speak as your lips feel like pieces of ice. But you muster up enough strength to ask if he's eaten lately.
Daryl shrugs, and looks over at your hands that are resting in your lap and holding onto the bar.
"Eat," He urges calmly, and you begin to move your fingers to peel the wrapper.
Daryl notices the way you struggle to peel open the green wrapper, your fingers unable to bend because of the cold.
Taking it from your hands, Daryl opens it for you. "You got gloves?"
He asks this as he hands the food back to you, and it's surprisingly still soft. Not frozen like you had expected it to be.
"No," You breathe out into the cold winter air. "keep looking everywhere we go but I haven't found any yet."
Daryl nods as you are able to break a piece off and slip it into your mouth. The taste of apple explodes in your mouth and you savor the feeling of having food to eat. Breaking off another piece, you hand it to Daryl.
You expect him to shake his head or grunt a no, but he takes it and nods a silent thank you.
You met Daryl back at the camp, him and his brother. There was something about him that drew you in, and something that made you want to be around him. You still weren't sure, after all this time, if the feelings you felt towards Daryl were feelings of friendship or of something romantic. But you liked what you both had, and was in no rush to apply labels.
The granola bar is soon gone; eaten quickly between the two of you. And watching the green wrapper blow off in the wind, you watch as it disappears from sight into the white snowbanks crowding the road.
It was dark, as night fell upon you all, and the temperatures dropped even further. Daryl could feel you shivering beside him, your two sweatshirts and coat not giving you the warmth you needed.
So hesitantly, Daryl reaches over and grabs your hands in his. Placing his glove covered hands on top of yours, he lifts them to his lips. You can feel the ice cold of his lips brushing softly against your hands, and instead of chilling you further, a warmth erupts inside your stomach. Butterflies fluttering back and forth as you gaze over at Daryl.
Soon a blow of warm air hits your hands and after a few seconds the ice numbing your fingers begins to melt. Daryl was warming your hands, but what he didn't know was that he was warming your heart too.
You wondered, as he blew on your hands softly to warm them, why he didn't just give you his gloves or another jacket. He could have easily done something less... Intimate to warm you up. But he took your hands in his and warmed them in a way that was affectionate. Even if he didn't recognize that it was.
The days went on, slow and painful, just like the last. The cold didn't stop but instead continued to grow more and more brutal.
Your hands were dry and cracked, some days you were worried your fingers would snap off they were so frozen. You burried them deep in your pockets and rubbed them together as fast as you could, but there was just no beating the cold.
You and the group had found general stores and abandoned homes day by day, but each place was useless. Reaching a new house a week later, it was empty and more depressing than the last. You were beginning to believe that there was nothing left.
Sitting on one of the worn and torn old couches, as the others sat in bedrooms or by the fire outside. You sat alone in the living room, left to your own blank thoughts.
That is until Daryl wandered out of the kitchen to the living room, walking slowly over to you.
"Hands holdin up?" You looked up at him, a few snowflakes still visable in his hair as the rest melted away.
You shrug, shifting over so he can sit beside you on the couch. He notices the way you move for him to join you, and takes the seat.
The couch squeaks as more weight is put onto the old piece of furniture.
"Got you somethin." Daryl speaks up, and you look over at him. His hands reach into his back pocket and watch him pull something out.
Handing it over to you, soon a pair of light grey mittens are sitting in your lap.
"Said ye were looking for some, found some at the store the other day."
Running your hands over the warm fabric you look up at Daryl with a shy smile.
"This is very thoughtful of you, thank you."
Daryl shrugs and shakes his head, leaning forward uncomfortably. "Hands are gonna fall off without 'em."
Daryl mumbles an excuse to cover up his genuine care for you. You can see it in the way he won't meet your eyes, the way he shifts nervously and the way he tries to tell you a different less kind reason for the gift.
"Thank you Daryl." You whisper again, and slip the mittens on your frozen to the bone hands. They are warm, a perfect fit and a thoughtful offering from Daryl Dixon.
With your hands finally warm and your heart fluttering wildly, you lean over and bravely rest your head on Daryl's shoulder.
You can feel as he tenses from your action, but a few moments later he relaxes. Leaning back into the couch, his left hand reaches out and holds onto your own. The mittens are warm from not only the fabric themselves but from being in his back pocket. However, when Daryl places his hand on top of yours you can feel the sudden rush of extra warmth from his touch.
He let you both sit there like that, your head on his shoulder and his hand holding yours. You felt from this moment and the small gift of mittens he gave to you, that it showed he did care about you in some way. That he felt the way towards you that you felt towards him.
They were small gestures sure, but they were still gestures from Daryl.
Even with the wind and the snow blowing outside, inside the cold house with your new mittens and hand held in Daryl's, you had never felt warmer.
A/N: Just a sweet one for you! ❤
