Sharpshooters

Uh, what?

"Why the hell did'ya bring this bitch back-" I attempted to mock his raspy voice. "Who the hell does he think he is?" Sighing, I shuffled through the tight walkway of the RV and heaved myself down onto the chair - the luxuriously velvety, peachy booth seat that I had recently sat on. I giggled quietly at myself and rested my elbows on the table, cupping my head in my hands.

'Click!' - The RV door swung outwards. I gasped at the sudden harsh creak of the hinges being overly twisted, and jumped back, hitting my head on the wooden headboard behind. "Fuck!" I whimpered in pain and knotted my hands in the back of my hair, on the bumped area. Dixon trudged through with an expressionless face. That's surprising, he came from what sounded like an argument. I bet he's going to start on me now too...

"Jesus, girl - y'okay?" He moved straight over to me. Did he look concerned? I nodded and flashed him a quick smile. My eyes started to glaze over with tears, I hit my head pretty hard.

"C'mon, move y'hand. 'Lemme see," he leaned over me to examine my head. I removed one hand and placed it on his chest, pushing him away. Why is he being like this? As I did so, I heard a grunt from above and watched as he stepped to the side and moved around to the other side of the table, where he proceeded to flop down onto the seat and stare at me blankly, awkwardly.

"Uh... Thanks...?" I said, confused. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he relaxed back.

"Need an ice pack or anythin'?" He asked. I shook my head and tucked my legs up to my chest like before.

"Nah, I'll be alright."

After a few minutes of silence, he twitched and shifted into a different position.

"So... I, ah, your accent - you from Georgia?" He asked.

"E'yup. Northern parts, to be exact. The accent comes from my momma's side of the family. She was a southerner." I replied. The conversation was short between us because of what happened at the start. It was pretty awkward - like, what do I talk about?

"Hey, uh, I'm sorry 'bout what I said earlier," he cleared his throat and broke the silence. Thank the lord. This is mighty strange.

"Don't worry 'bout it," I shortly smiled and began to get myself up out of the booth. I need a walk...

"Hey, wai-" Daryl started after me, and we both shuffled through the walkway and out of the RV. "Jeez, lady, what's your problem?"

I hopped down the RV steps. The last step was quite high, considering my height, and as my feet hit the ground, I stumbled and lost my balance. Just as I was about to topple over, I felt muscular arms wrap around my shoulders to steady me. I regained my balance and looked over my shoulder, finding myself staring into the mossy blue eyes of Daryl Dixon. After a short moment, he pushed past gently, sauntering to a light blue tent on the edge of the hill, seemingly going towards the water's edge. "Huh...?" I raised my eyebrows, impressed and nodded my head slowly to the ground. Eventually, I left my thoughts and snapped back to reality.