"You done?" Daryl wore a tiny smirk on his lips as he casually stood with his crossbow slung over his shoulder.
"A little help would have been nice," my voice came out bitter as I wiped my knife on the walker's clothes.
As I stood up to return the blade to its sheath, I caught sight of the crimson river trickling down my fingers and examined my hand, the iron smell of blood immediately hitting my nose. A small shard of glass was buried in the middle of my palm. Out of all the things I could have landed on, it had to be glass. I quickly shoved my knife away and stepped away from the body below me, looking up to Daryl, who had already started making his way over to me.
"Lemme see it."
He stopped in front of me and set down his crossbow before holding his hand out, his brows knotted and slight frown pulling at his lips.
"Fell on some glass," I placed my injured hand in his and felt a chill run up my arm as he gingerly touched my palm with light fingers.
"Yer lucky it's just one big chunk and not a bunch of tiny pieces."
He reached around to his back pocket, pulled out a faded red rag, and began to wipe away the blood that was staining my palm and fingers. My eyes began to roam while he tended to my hand, focusing on the undone buttons at the top that revealed a small part of his chest. A quick pain in my hand sent me sucking in air through my clenched teeth and pulling my arm away from him. In between Daryl's fingers sat the piece of glass that had once impaled my hand.
Daryl tossed the glass to the side and picked up his crossbow, stuffing his rag back into his pocket.
"Had to come out sometime," he shrugged, before heading back in the direction where he stood.
"Thanks," I grumbled as I followed his steps, staring down at the gaping hole in the middle of my palm.
Something suddenly caught my attention out of the corner of my eye: A bush of white flowers resting only a couple feet away. I called for Daryl to wait and sped over to the plant, a tiny rush of excitement rushing through me as I bent down to examine my discovery.
"Oh my god, I've seen this plant before but I can't remember the name!"
I racked my brain for all of the white flowers I knew of as I looked closer at the delicate petals that spread out beautifully and it's vibrant yellow pistil.
"It's not a gardenia," I mumbled to myself.
"It's a Cherokee rose."
I turned around to see Daryl also staring curiously at the plant.
"Oh, it's beautiful," I faced the flower again and reached out to gently touch it with the pads of my fingers.
"You some kind of tree hugger?"
I frowned and gave Daryl a look.
"I'm not a tree hugger," I rose to my feet. "I was trying to become a botanist before everything happened."
"Like I said, tree hugger," he said to me as he took a couple of steps forward to stand next to me.
"The story is, that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on The Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were crying and grieving so much 'cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure, disease, starvation. A lot of them just disappeared."
I listened intently to Daryl as he spoke, occasionally glancing up at me to meet my gaze.
"So, the Elders, they said a prayer; Asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, to give 'em strength and hope. The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell."
At the end of his story, I noticed that a smile had grown on my lips, one that he noticed as he looked at me again.
"What?"
"No, nothing," I shook my head and tried to stifle my grin. "It's just really sweet that you know that."
My eyes took in the flowers once again and I thought of a certain someone who might appreciate a Cherokee rose in her life right now. I turned back to voice my idea to Daryl and found that his stare was still lingering on my face. I cleared my throat and my hand flew up to scratch the back of my neck.
"Uh, maybe we should take one for Carol."
His stare hadn't faltered and I noticed his eyes fall slightly lower.
"Don't you think?" I felt my ears grow unnaturally hot as my hand continued to scratch the nonexistent itch on my neck. Daryl suddenly broke his gaze and reached up to rub his chin while looking down at the plant.
"Yeah, sounds good."
I took out my knife and cut the stem of the flower, all while being fully aware that my cheeks were probably flaring up with a bright shade of red.
"It's getting dark. We should start headin' back."
I peered up at the sky and realized that the time had indeed gone by quickly. The sky was now slowly descending into a deep red and pink combination as opposed to earlier, when only a pale blue color stood above us. After shouting around Sophia's name for a couple minutes, we both started back into the woods, hoping to get back to the farm before nightfall hit and we became vulnerable to the monsters hiding in the shadows.
✯✯✯
(𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 7/20/20)
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𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)
Fanfiction𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝗼𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐚 𝐲𝗼𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝗼𝗺𝐚𝐧 𝗺𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝗼𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜𝗼𝗺𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝗼𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝗼𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝗼𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞-𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐥𝐝. 𝙽𝚘. 𝟷...