The Devils Eyes •Daryl Dixon•

T W E N T Y - S E V E N : C O N F E S S I O N

"I'd rather be physically hurt than emotionally. Because you can put a band aid on your finger, but you can't put one on your heart."
~Anonymous
I stare into the mirror, running my fingers over the red spot where my eye used to be. I frown, that's another scar from him.

Someone clears their throat from the entrance of the cell, and I look over, to see Daryl leaning on the door frame.

I put the bandage back on and turn to him. "What?" I growl, crossing my arms.

"How are ye feeling?" he takes a step forward.

"I'm fine," I scowl. "You would know if you'd have stayed."

Why am I being like this? It shouldn't bother me that he left, but for some reason... it does.

He sighs, and inches closer to me. "I had to leave, ye don' understand," he shakes his head.

I stare into his beautiful Georgian eyes. "I thought I lost my hunting buddy," I let out a small laugh, trying to escape the awkward moment.

He shrugs "Ye would've been fine without me."

The room falls silent as I look around, trying to avoid eye contact with him. I rock back and forth on my feet, unsure on how to make an excuse to get out of here.

"No, but seriously," My eye darts back to him. "How are ye?"

I shrug. "I'm ok, I guess. Why do you care anyways?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Can't I jus' check up on ya?" he asks, cocking his head.

"Not when you're a constant douche, no," I scoff.

"A douche?" he asks, humor filling his eyes. "Ye think I'm a douche?"

Gosh, he's cute when he's not being a dick.

"Yeah, the biggest," I let out a small chuckle, kicking the ground.

"Well, I'm sorry," he mutters and I look up at him, regret has replaced the humor.

"Nah, don't be," I shake it off.

I look up into his eye, searching his soul. It threw me off on how he was being nice to me, how he wasn't being a dick.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy we're actually talking, but I'm on alert, unsure of when that could change any minute.

I snap put my thoughts and realize how close we are, again. My breath hitches at the close proximity of us, and he does the same.

In his eyes, I catch a glimpse of something. It's nothing like I've ever seen in his eyes, he's holding back on something.

I smile up at him, unsure of what to do. Sucking in my breath, I get on my tippy toes, and inch closer to him, him eyeing me the whole way.

Just as I'm about to reach him, something inside him snaps, and he moves out the way.

I look at him in confusion before a hard glare overcomes me. "Dammit Dixon," I growl.

He shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with me.

"Can't you make up your fucking mind?" I inch towards him. "Can you stop leading me on? I mean, Jesus," I run my hands through my hair.

"I mean, do you, do you even like me?" I ask, looking him in the eyes.

He stays silent, his eyes moving down to the ground.

My heart breaks, as I realize this has all been one sided. He's never felt anything, I've been too blind.

"This is pointless," I growl, brushing past him.