Skinny Love

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The house was silent. The only sound coming from that of the running shower you stood beneath. Other than the flow of warm water, the house was quiet. So quiet that you never would've believed that there was a room full of people on the other side of the bathroom wall. But they were there. Sleeping beside each other as a family on the first night in a new place.

Alexandria.

You feared to believe in this place. You had believed in Hershel's farm, you had believed strongly in the prison, you had even foolishly begun to believe that the road you walked to Terminus would lead to sanctuary. How wrong you were. But this place, it was as if the world on the outside of their walls hadn't touched them. As if they were spared all the death, all of the decay, and all of the horrors you had grown used to.

And you feared to believe that this community could be a safe haven.

The hot water runs down your tired and aching body, the steam clearing your mind and the heat burning your skin felt good. Soothing. As you ran your fingers through your long locks, hearing the water hit your feet, you can feel the layers of dirt and grime washing away. The weeks of filth and sweat disapearing down the drain.

Hot water was something you questioned you would ever feel again. A shower like this. And as you stand underneath the pelt of warm water, you smile softly. Something you never thought twice about a lifetime ago and now... It felt like a gift.

You were saddned as you finished up, and had to step out. Feeling as though you could stay under the spray of water all night if you could. It didn't just wash away the dirt and sweat coating your body, but it felt almost as if it washed away some of the emotional exhaustion created in the past weeks... Months even. 

Stepping out of the shower, you grab the white towel hanging on the hook and secure it around your damp body. The pure white and fluffy cotton feeling warm against your skin as the cold air hits your wet body. Walking the small distance to the sink and the mirror that hangs above it, you run your hand across the fogged up mirror. Your hand smears a line against the glass, allowing for your face to become clear in the midst of the fog.

And the person who stares back at you is almost unrecongnizable. Your eyes sag with bags that scream for sleep, not being able to remember the last restful night of sleep you had. Your skin is tan. And you are able to see just how much so after your second layer of skin made of dirt and sweat washed off. Your hair is lighter then it used to be, the sun turning it blonder than the brunette you once were. The person who stares back at you in the sliver of clean glass, is someone new to you.

Reaching out for the hairbrush that sits at the edge of the couter, you grip it in your hand and run it through you damp locks. Feeling as the tangles turn into your natural waves, your hair feels fresh and clean for the first time in months.

Remebering you left your change of clothes upstairs as you looked around the house a second time, you move to the bathroom door. Your left hand reaches for the doorknob as your right still holds your hairbrush, twisting the knob a rush of cold air hits your bare arms and legs. But that isn't what takes the breath from your lungs and makes you gasp in surprise.

As you swung the door open, Daryl Dixon stood on the other side. His hand raised in the fashion that showed he too was moving for the door handle. Startled as the dim light of the bathroom light pools into the darkness surrounding him, your hairbrush slides out of your hand and hits the floor with a thud.

Your right hand moves to your thumping heart, gripping at your chest to catch your breath, and to make sure your towel is secure. If you thought it was quiet before, this gave silence a new definition.

Your breathing sounds louder and you feel as though you can hear both of your heart's beating harshly inside your chests. Daryl doesn't say anything, and neither do you. His eyes stare for a short span of a second just as you do, before he looks away uncomfortably.

"I uh," You begin to say but your mouth feels dry as you look at Daryl who stands uneasy in the doorway. His presence always leaving your mind blank. "Didn't think anyone would be awake right now."

You figured at two in the morning it would be a good time to have time to yourself, and check out the house again on your own. But you should've known that Daryl Dixon would be awake. As he woke before the sun.

Daryl looks back to you, trying his best to keep his eyes focused in on your face and nothing below. He nods simply, and you notice your hairbrush on the ground.

"I was just finishing up if you want to get in." You let the redneck know as you move to bend down. But are taken aback when he bends down quicker and more swiftly than you do in your towel.

His hand grabs your hairbrush, and standing up he hands it back to you. Reaching out as your other hand still holds onto your towel, your fingers graze his as you take back the brush. His skin soft and warm in the milliseconds that your fingers touched his. Warm like the shower and just like the hot water that fell... Gone too soon.

Daryl's blue eyes watch you, and you find yourself unable to do anything else but look back at him. Something about the man always drew your eye, and tonight in the semi dark was no different.

Daryl clears his throat after a few moments of silence pass you both by, and fluttering your eyelashes a couple times you focus yourself back down to earth. He steps aside, allowing you to exit the bathroom and he steps in your place as you take his in the doorway.

Running your tongue over your bottom lip nervously, you take one last look at Daryl. "Thank you." You whisper softly, holding up your hairbrush and turning to leave. Feeling his ocean blue eyes on you as you do.

As the door closes slowly, darkness surrounds you and leaning back against the  bathroom door you shut your eyes. Squeezing them tightly as you release a shaky sigh. A breath that you thought would slow your racing heart and clambering mind, but finding that it doesn't.

This was how it was with Daryl Dixon; complicated yet crystal clear all at the same time.

You knew how you felt about him.. But you didn't know if he felt the same.

He knew how he felt about you... But he didn't know if you felt the same.

Daryl's back lay flat against the bathroom door, breathing slowly in effort to calm his thumping heart. But as the scent of floral notes fill his nose, his heart only beats faster. The humidity from the steam still clearing in the bathroom made the scent from whatever shampoo or body wash you used become richer. Made the warm air smell just as you did when he passed you in the doorway. And it did nothing to ease his swirling mind and tight chest.

It was like you were still in the room with him, making his mind swirl and his thoughts go blank. He was always left speechless with you. Knowing what he wanted to say to you, yet once he was in front of you it all blew away. Leaving him staring at you with anxiety pumping in his veins.

Resting his head back against the wood, his palms flat against the door, it's as if he can feel you from the other side. He doesn't even know if you still stand there on the other side of the door, but he can almost feel your touch through the wood.

Maybe one day he will admit his feelings to you and accept them fully himself as well. But for now, as he stands in the humid bathroom that smells of you, he'll dream in the shadows. He'll feel the butterflies in his chest for now, and maybe one day... You both will surrender to your shared feelings and love in the open. But for now, all it'll be is just a skinny love.

A/N: I loved the idea for this one, I just hope the writing turned out okay for it!

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