The Devils Eyes •Daryl Dixon•

S I X T E E N : W A L L S

"Love is patient, love is kind."

~ 1:Corinthians 13:4

"What cha think?" Rick asked Daryl as we walked down the stairs.

"Home sweet home," he said gruffly.

"For the time being," Rick glanced around.

"How long do you-" I was cut off by a muerto falling in front of me.

I look above and shout. "Hey watch it!"

Glenn's head peeps over the railing and his face flushes red. "Sorry!"

Lori walks over to us, holding her belly. "It's secure?"

"The cellblock is," Rick replied.

"What about the rest of the prison?" Hershel asked.

"In the morning," Rick started. "We'll head to the infirmary and the cafeteria."

"We sleep in the cells?" Beth hesitated.

Rick nods. "Clementine found a set and both Daryl and I have an extra set."

"I ain't sleeping in no cage," Daryl grumbled, his voice next to me. "I'll take the perch."

"Stay tight, don't know if theres anything," Rick ordered before turning and walking away.

"Mom?" I turn to Sophia whos grinning up at me.

"Yeah?" I ask, picking up her bag.

"So I was wondering... can I stay with Carl?"

I froze.

"Um..." I chuckled nervously, scratching the back of my head.

"Mom please, it's not like we're gonna do anything!" she brought up her arms.

She had learned about it, sex a few months ago. She freaked out when she learned about it.

"Sophia, I really don't know."

"I promise, I'll be on my best behavior," she whined, pouting her lips.

I groan. "Fine," I walk over to a cell where Carl is unpacking his bag. I place her bag on the top bunk and she grins, hugging me.

"Thanks."

I hum and walk out, carrying my bag to a cell.

I enter one and T-Dog has already made it his home.

"Sorry," I blush and step out.

He chuckles and I walk up the stairs, passing Daryl's makeshift bed.

I wanted to be alone.

I step in a cell and examine it.

This one has a desk, with the toilet, sink and the bunk bed.

I place my bag on the desk, pulling out my water bottle, taking a sip.

I sigh and turn around, looking at the dirty blankets.

I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and pull off the covers.

I could go wash them in the river or something.

I reach into my bag, and pull out the mirror I had found a few weeks ago

I look into it and smile. I frown at my winkles, bags under my eyes from all the restless nights, nights where we were unable to sleep.

Someone clears their throat and I drop the mirror, looking at the doorway.

"What?" I roll my eyes.

"Rick wants to talk to us," he mutters and walks away.