Rain pelted hard onto the roof above you, and the noise vibrated in the walls that encompass you. The thunder booming louder and the cracks of lightning filled the room with sudden flashes of light, fading quickly. But the thunder shook your bed and your body, the booms reminding you of gunfire. Making the darkness around you feel that more suffocating and your body tensed in fear and paranoia.
Shadows danced across the bare walls and made your eyes veiw things that weren't truly there. But in your mind, you swore you saw faces and monsters in your room.
Sitting up in the bed that was far too comfortable for you after laying on a hard cement floor for weeks, you clutch the cotton sheets to your chest. The room was warm from the humidity and storm crashing together outside and the ceiling fan made you too anxious to turn on.
Your heart hammers agressivly inside of your chest, and each breath is deep yet ragid at the same time. You had grown used to the nightmares that stared the dead coming back to life as it was your reality now. But the nightmares you had tonight... Were too fresh... Too soon and too painful. For they weren't just nightmares, they were memories of things that happened not too long ago.
Pressing your hand to your forehead, you feel the warmth of your skin. Slipping out from underneath the soft sheets, your bare feet hit the hard wood floors. The chill barely touching your sweating body, but as you stood the air of the room hit you. And although it was warm, your skin still arose with goosebumps. Grabbing the thin white sweater that lay waiting on the chair in the corner of the room, you pull it on over your shirt and shorts.
The storm still brewed loudly outside, the rain and wind scrapping against the siding. And as the noise grew harsher and harsher, and as your mind grew scarier and scarier... There was only one person you could think of to go to.
Daryl Dixon.
Walking to the door, your hand turns the knob and after grabbing the small lit candle for light, you venture down the short but dark hallway. You knew what room was his, you watched him turn in for the night and made sure to remember that his was only three down and on the right.
Your feet are silent as they patter against the floorboards, and as you reach his door you slowly push it open. Seeing as it isn't clasped completely shut or locked.
Unlike your room, his is completely dark. No candle or lantern used for light. Only beams of small light from lightning appear through the small window. Cracks of light that allow you to spot his sleeping figure spread out on his stomach in the bed. As you stand in the doorway for a moment, you suddenly regret coming here. For he looks peaceful, sleep had found him and you didn't want to take it away from him.
You knew better than anyone that sleep was hard to come across these days.
"Somethin wrong?" Your eyes focus back on the silouette of the man who now sits up in the bed. A crack of lightning fills the room for a split second with light, and the thunder that follows makes you jump where you stand.
"I--" You feel as though you've lost your voice. Unsure of what to say in fear of judgement, in fear of embarassment, but mostly in fear of the overwhelming noise shaking the house.
Daryl picks up on your struggle, for he straightens and gestures you over. "C'mere."
His voice is gentle, soft yet powerful for it calms your clambering heart. And his tone is calm and welcoming, tired but kind.
Walking into his room, closing the door on your way in, the room is lit dimly by the candle you carry with you. Setting it down on the dresser beside the bed, you climb in beside him. Pulling the sheets over your body, feeling an instant sense of comfort. And safety.
"I can't sleep," You shake your head, looking down at your hands as you lean back against the headboard. "Its this storm."
You can spot faintly Daryl's head nodding, and then he speaks up. "That the only reason?"
Turning to look to him, forgetting you can't see him well in the lack of light, you look to his face. And somehow, his blue eyes shine brightly. Like the moon on a black night, a guiding light to carry you home.
You see in his eyes his compassion, for he understands exactly how you feel. For he went through it too.
"It's beautiful here," You whisper to Daryl, picturing the gardens you sat in that day in the Kingdom courtyard. "Yet when I shut my eyes, all I can see is the grey and cold surroundings of the Sanctuary."
"I try not to think about it, I mean we're here now. We're safe and we made it," You say, feeling as your voice cracks and you know better than to believe Daryl hadn't heard it to.
"But for some reason I just can't shake it."
Daryl still regards you with compassion, and even as its far too late at night... He sits beside you and listens to your troubles.
"I wish I could be as strong as you." You whisper into the warm air, and your head falls back onto the pillow.
Daryl lays his head on his own pillow and faces you. His hand moves swiftly to pull the sheets up over your arms, and the fabric smells of him. Its like having his arms wrapped tightly around you.
"Ye strong." Daryl tells you, his voice almost that of a whisper too. His eyes look to yours, never wavering and in his gaze you know he believes the words he's telling you.
"Yeah?" You breathe out timidly, and can't stop yourself from falling as you gaze into his orbs of blue. His face is half shadowed and half lit dimly by the candle, and somehow the lack of light has a way of bringing all his beautiful features to the forefront.
Daryl chews on his bottom lip for a moment, as cracks of thunder shake the room. And then, ever so slowly, his hand reaches out. You can see it in his face that he questions for a moment his movement, but it doesn't stop his hand from finding your face. His warm calloused hand craddles your cheek gently, softly as if he's afraid you'll jump at his touch. But instead, you do the oppposite. You melt at the simple touch of his hand.
His thumb grazes slowly and ever so tenderly over the bruises that line your face. The blacks and the blues, the marks maring your skin. And all the while, studying you carefully and closely.
"Yeah," He whispers back to after minutes of silently tracing your wounds. "And I think that ye beautiful too."
His words startle you and you see in his eyes that they startle him as well. As if it was the one thing he was thinking and somehow let slip from his lips. But his words fill your heart with a fluttering warm sensation. For Daryl looks at you now, with bruises lining your skin and breaking up your complection... Yet he finds you beautiful. Somehow to him you aren't broken, but instead, perfectly whole.
"Sleep," Daryl says to you, before you can say anything back to him regarding his latest confession. "I'll be here."
And as your eyes flutter shut, and sleep finds you in the midst of the thunderstorm, you feel Daryl's protection wrapped around you.
A/N: I kept rewriting this one because I wanted to get it just right, not too fluffy or too unbelievable for his character. And I think I finally got it! Hope you liked it! ❤
