❝she was the night, and i, but a child afraid of the dark; a keg of gunpowder in love with a spark❞
Maevelyn fell, quite literally, into Daryl Dxion's arms. After being taken to the prison, she quickly realises who she can and cannot trust. There ar...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
sweet dreams - merilyn manson
ⓣⓡⓘⓖⓖⓔⓡ ⓦⓐⓡⓝⓘⓝⓖ
"i am not sorry for following the fire..."
The next morning rolled around and Daryl let Mae wake up in her own time. If she weren't awake by noon, he would just leave on his own. The archer was out in the field with Rick, helping him pick the corn and the watermelons that were finally in season. They were swelling, filled with delicious juice that the children of the community would definitely love to eat. Even Daryl was a bit curious to see if it had any taste... With so little water, they should have shriveled up, but Rick had insisted that they at least give it a try. Sweat beaded at his forehead as he raked the earth, turning it and preparing to plant the autumn crops. His vest felt as if it were sticking to his bare skin, his broad back straining as he heaved the rake up, breaking the hard-as-stone dry soil.
Taking a break, Rick brought him some water. "Wanna switch jobs?" he asked, gesturing to the axe and wood. "We need to get as much done as possible."
The archer narrowed his eyes in the sunlight and looked over at the previously-splitted logs. Nodding, he then gazed off toward the horizon with the leader as suddenly thunder rumbled. There was a pause and then they turned to one another, smiling-- something rare for Daryl lately.
"So, you didn't wanna go into her cell and wake her up?" asked Rick as he handed him the rake.
Daryl crossed over to the stump they used for chopping. He yanked the axe from it, then picked up some timber. "Naw, thought she should sleep."
"Oh, so you're givin' her some courtesy then?"
Daryl was just hoisting the axe above his head when he gave him a sarcastic look.
Rick chuckled and began to rake. "I noticed that you brought that bag back... was that what you were up to last night?" The archer swung, the sound of the wood splitting cutting through the air. Splinters flew as the blade cut through like a knife through butter. He remained quiet, moving to grab another log. The leader was pulling on his gardening gloves, smirking the whole damn time.
"Yeah... so what?" asked Daryl. He grunted as he swung again. "Felt bad for leavin' her alone. Should've stuck with her... was jus' too irritated with th' way she was actin'."
"She's strong-willed, but nothing you can't handle... loosen up!"
Carl headed over, still sleepy-eyed, the Stetson crooked upon his head. He began to pick up the logs and soon had his arms full, bringing them to the usual pile. "Yeah, loosen up, Daryl!" sneered the kid.
Although it did irritate him a bit, he couldn't help but grin sheepishly. "Hey, you shut up. Jus' you wait until I take you into the woods," Daryl gibed. He swung, bringing the ax down on a particularly hard knot. He was stopped in his tracks, and so he swung down harder, evidentally splitting the log. "Gonna hunt you down and cook ya up."
