Never Have I Ever Fallen in Love

Chapter 10

"There's some rules and shit yer have to go by when yer sharing my tent." Daryl grunted as he dropped down onto a log in front of his tent. "Yer don't touch my stuff. Yer stay on your side of the tent. No using them poxy smelling fucking...women sprays..."

"...deodorant..." I hesitantly muttered.

"Yeah. That shit."

I rolled my eyes at him and slowly lowered myself onto the log opposite him, my wound still burning.

"Oh...and leave yer women hormones at the front flap. Don't want yer crying or throwing stuff at me. Can't be done with that."

I picked up a stick from the ground and started poking at the dirt in front of me, drawing random lines in the space. 

"It still hurt?" I looked up at the man in front of me when his gruff voice broke the silence. He nodded towards my stomach. "Yer gunshot wound." I shrugged slightly and sighed, dropping the stick, I looked up at him and tilted my head slightly.

"Dunno how the bitch Andrea managed ter shoot yer. It was pitch black."

I shrugged and frowned. "I saw torches..."

"Do you miss Merle?" I asked suddenly, not put off with the look that Daryl gave me. It was a menacing one and his eyes creased into slits.

"I don't miss him." he glanced at me. "I'm a fucking Dixon. He's a fucking Dixon. We don't miss each other."

I raised my hands in a surrender pose and smiled at him sadly.

"Sorry...I was just wondering...y'know..."

"Well don't." and with that, he stood up, grabbed his crossbow and started stomping off towards the woods.

Wow...I really hit a nerve there...

After about 20 minutes of me staring at the trees on the outskirts of the woods, the sun started setting on the horizon. I stood up from my seat and started hobbling towards Daryl's tent, gripping my side in agony. 'Healing just fine' my arse. Hershel just wanted me out of his house. It had been getting worse since I had left.

I unzipped the only door on the tent and couldn't help but jump back at the smell that hit me. It was a mixture of dirt, sweat, smoke and the faint smell of cannabis. I scrunched my nose up and took a deep breath, walking inside and looking around. Still better than the smell of the walkers...

On the right side of the tent was a thin, dirty and uncomfortable-looking cot with a single blanket spread messily across it. Next to it was Daryl's small bag that he had always owned which I presumed held his measly amount of belongings. Maybe a spare knife, a small photo of him, his ma and Merle, maybe the tatted book of animals his Grandpa had given him when he was young...those were the things he kept near and dear when we were together... On the opposite side was a small pile of clothes, each looking as screwed up and dirty as the next. I smiled slightly and shook my head. Same old Daryl...

Ok...so do I risk getting on Daryl's nerves and sleeping on the cot or do I have an uncomfortable night of laying on the floor?

...floor it is...

I yanked my shirt over my head and threw it to the floor, leaving me standing half naked in the middle of the tent. The cool draft created goose bumps on my arms and I hugged myself, careful not to catch my wound. I quickly kicked my combats off and  lowered myself down to the ground and curled up in the smallest ball I could manage without aggravating my wound.

"What tha' fuck yer doin'!?"

My eyes oped groggily and I squinted. It was dark outside now and Daryl stood scowling in the corner, holding a small hand lamp and kicking the ground with his left foot.

"Well, I was sleeping." I muttered sleepily, turning over so I was laying on my stomach. I screamed and jumped up to standing, tears forming in my eyes and I grabbed my  stomach. Daryl scowled.

"I said to leave the hormones at the door. Don't you dare start crying, Scout." 

I turned to face away from him and took a deep breath.

"C'mon..." his hands lingered above my arm for a minute but he finally took it and lead me softly towards the cot. "I stood on yer shirt when I was coming in...Don't think you'd want to wear it...don't think you'd want to wear any of them..." he glanced over to the pile of clothes and then did something I didn't think for a second he would.

He took his shirt off.

The breath caught in my throat and I quickly looked away. I knew that if I saw the scars that littered his torso, chest and back, I would undoubtedly break down.

"Put it on..." he mumbled, then reached forward and grabbed the first shirt on the pile.

I gasped as quietly as I could when the rough material brushed against the raw skin on my torso. The shirt smelt of him. The smell of the woods was dominant over the smell of sweat and walkers and it calmed me slightly.

Daryl fell down onto the cot and budged over a bit.

"It's cold. And yer can't sleep on the damn floor. Crazy girl." I slowly padded towards him and fell down next to him.

Just like old times...

"New rule" He whispered into my ear. "Yer wear a shirt at all times..."

I snorted quietly and scrubbed at my eyes quickly, smiling the whole time.

"Thank you."

He nodded then turned over so his back facing me.

Night Daryl...