Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 2: A Lonely Priest

Shoutout to my first ever ko-fi supporter blxckpaws! This chapter is dedicated to you!

"You right-handed?"

I frown lightly at Daryl. We've stopped for a quick break, eating what little food Tyreese and Carol had with them. They have a lot of roasted pecans.

"Yeah, why?" I ask.

He shifts, leaning forward as he jerks his chin at my bow. "That's right-handed. Means you hold it with your left hand, draw it back with your right."

"Oh." I nod. "Right. That makes sense." I glance at it over my shoulder. "I only ever did archery at camp a few times and I can't really recall which hand I preferred using." He raises an eyebrow at me and I flush. "I'm...guessing you never went to summer camp."

"Never really camped for fun." He pops a few roasted pecans into his mouth, then offers some to me. I take one. "Still, those probably weren't hunting bows. You're gonna need to practice."

"You'll show me, right?"

"Nah. You're on your own."

I gawk at him for a second, just about to be annoyed, when I catch the glint in his eye. I blow out a breath and turn my head away, chin up. "Fine. I don't even need your help," I retort.

"Sure. Whatever you say, angel face."

I stick my tongue out at him. He chuckles as he eats more pecans, then glances around. People have spread out, gathering things to make the night easier on us. We've already set up a watch schedule.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Wondering where Carol went," he says.

"She was getting water with Tyreese." He nods and I tilt my head at him. After a second, I say, "It's good that she's back."

"Yeah, for now," he says. "She might not stay. Rick did send her away."

"That was before she destroyed a nest of Termites and saved us. And saved Judith."

"Termites?"

"Terminus? Termites? Get it?"

He huffs out a laugh. "Sure." He clears his throat, holding his hand out again and letting me take a few more pecans. "Still, she might leave if she don't feel welcome."

"So talk to her about it. Ask her if she's okay."

"Mhm, maybe. Think she can handle herself."

He can be a confusing man, my husband. He's worried, but he doesn't want to risk crossing a boundary, but also his best friend is back and he doesn't want to lose her again. That much is obvious to me.

I lean over and kiss his cheek, brushing some of his dark, shaggy hair behind his ear before leaving another kiss on the side of his forehead. "We'll keep an eye out for her, okay?" I murmur.

"Yeah," he says. He turns to me, stealing a brief kiss that immediately makes my heart all giddy. "Thanks."

"Of course," I reply.

I gaze at him for a second, reaching out to keep toying with his hair, pushing it out of his pretty blue eyes. His poor face is so beat up, his eye black and bruised, lip scabbed from where it split open, a cut on his eyebrow. It's easy for me to forget that my face doesn't look that much better.

"You're due for a haircut, aren't you?" I ask.

He shakes his head, making his hair fall all over his face again. "My hair's fine."