A few months have passed. Daryl and I grew closer. We became friends and I was happy to consider him one. I still didn't know much about him, however we were able to just sit in silence. We mostly sat on his or my front porch. We would meet each other in the morning and at night. If we didn't talk about the day, we'd sit in comfortable silence, watching the community.
It was close to sunset. There was a gathering happening in the center of town. Something Deanna liked to put on about once a month. We sat in the background, on my porch. "Daryl, what were you like before this all happened?" I was curious to know about his past. I figured I deserved to know so much. All I knew was his last name, his love for his crossbow, he was a great hunter and navigator, and he lost his older brother, Merle, after Daryl had to shoot him because he became a walker.
"Grew up in a bad house. Parents were alcoholics. My mom was killed when I was young in a house fire that she started. All because of a damn cigarette. Merle was the only parental figure I knew." He grew quiet and didn't continue.
"You don't have to keep talking about it. I can tell it takes a lot for you to open up. I'm sorry if I pushed you." I meant it. I didn't realize his personality came from his past. I thought it was just years dealing with the apocalypse.
"It's okay. Just not used to saying much. I don't know why so quickly I can tell you things. I don't mind like I do with others." I smiled at his comment. "What's your story?" He asked. He asked this curiously, not just because he felt he had too. He wanted to know.
"Grew up in Georgia, outside Atlanta. I was lucky and grew up well, really. My dad sold cars and my mom, Lucille, she was a professor. They were so in love. I have an older brother, Dawson. He was going to be a doctor, a neurosurgeon specifically. I lived a good life. Then I went to Baltimore to finish my schooling and next thing I knew this happened. Haven't seen my family since. I don't even know if anyone is alive." I said quietly.
"I'm sorry." Daryl said, breaking the silence. "Not knowing. That's worse. You have your gut feeling and you don't want to be told otherwise, if you're wrong or not." I decided I didn't want to have a sad conversation anymore, I knew he related somehow.
"Alright, wise guy." I cracked a smile. "Thanks for listening to me ramble. I haven't known you long but I think I can trust you." I said.
"You can trust me. You're safe for me. My safety. I like you, Rowan. You're a good friend here."
Friend. That's all I was to Daryl, even if I began to feel something more.
