𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)

𝐸𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛

After returning to the highway with the girl, Daryl couldn't sleep. How could he? His mind hadn't stopped racing since she broke their embrace in the woods. His thoughts didn't rest even during their walk back when the night was dead silent, except for her occasional sniffling.

She was now sitting on the floor only a couple feet away from where Daryl rested on his back, head supported by his folded fingers. All of the good places to sleep in had been taken up by Carol and Andrea, so the floor had been left to the pair of late night wanderers. Dale was still keeping watch.

Daryl turned his head to look at the girl: She sat with her knees folded up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, and a faraway look in her eyes as she stared blankly in front of her.

"You ain't gonna sleep or what?" Daryl voiced quietly.

The girl shifted her eyes down to him, her brows slightly knitted together and her expression turned into one of a frown.

"I'm afraid of having a nightmare," she whispered. Her hair was no longer held back in a ponytail and hung loosely around her face.

"Nightmare 'bout what?"

The girl shrugged.

"Can't be much worse than what goes on while you're awake," Daryl scoffed, "We're already livin' in a damn nightmare."

They both said nothing after that and Daryl closed his eyes, but he felt like his mind wouldn't be still. He kept thinking about the way the girl had embraced him: soft and gentle. The act felt so foreign to him.

His mother came to mind. Daryl recalled the way she would hold him close to her chest as his father tore through the house during one of his drunken rages. The only thing that would distract him from his father's yells was the sound of his mother's beating heart and the smell of her favorite lotion she put on every night before bed. As much as Daryl tried not to think of her, he still missed her terribly. After his mother had died, the only touch that Daryl would be met with was the brutal hands of his father and occasionally the metal end of his belt.

Daryl sighed in frustration as his eyes opened once again. He was bothered that she was still on his mind, keeping him from sleep that he so desperately needed. Annoyed by the hug's lingering hold and restless, he stood to stretch his limbs in the small pathway of the motor home, pacing for a few moments before stopping to look at her again. She hadn't fallen asleep, still seated and staring at the wall.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Daryl went over to her and sat by her side.

"What are you doing?" Her eyes peered at him with both curiosity and sadness.

"Can't sleep," Daryl leaned his back against the wall of the motorhome and stretched his legs out, letting his hands rest in his lap.

"You wouldn't rather go hang out with your bike?" She smirked.

"Nah," Daryl felt the corner of his lips being tugged into a smile but bit back the urge.

He looked at her, amber eyes peering at him, traveling up and down his face. Daryl suddenly felt his cheeks grow warm as a nervous feeling stirred in his gut.

"You don't have to stay up with me just 'cuz you feel bad," her voice came out soft and smooth with no tension or worry to be heard.

"I ain't," Daryl shrugged. "Just can't sleep."

He rested his head against the wall once again and relaxed his shoulders.

"Glenn was right," she said to him.

"'Bout what?" Daryl turned his head again to look at her, a small grin present on her pink lips.

"You're not as scary as you look."

"Best keep that to yourself," Daryl fought the urge to smile again and let out a sigh through his nose before finally closing his eyes, waiting for sleep to reach out and take him under.

✯✯✯

(𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 7/6/20)