𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)

𝑇𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟

Dinner was far from special, to say the least. I was seated at the "kids" table in between Glenn and Maggie's sister Beth. Across from me sat Maggie and next to her, a boy named Jimmy. I wasn't exactly sure how he was related to the Greene family, but I didn't care enough to ask. 

The entire dining room was filled with tension, nobody at either table really saying anything. Though, I did get wrangled into a conversation with Beth where she grilled me about life in Los Angeles, wondering if I'd ever met any celebrities. When I wasn't talking to either Beth or Glenn, I would catch Maggie looking at me every so often. The food, on the other hand, made the experience more tolerable: A serving of mashed potatoes, beans, chicken, and a concoction of assorted veggies.

As everyone started to finish off their meal and carry their plates to the kitchen, I quickly grabbed another serving along with clean utensils and silently slipped away. After peeking into various empty rooms lining the hallway, I found a dimly lit one, with Daryl resting in the queen-sized bed with his naked back facing me. White bandages wrapped around the side of his head and on his left lower back. As I stared on, I could make out long, discolored scars running down his back. I felt like I had seen something I wasn't supposed to but I couldn't look away. It was mesmerizing in a sense, like seeing a famed artifact in the museum and not quite believing it's really in front of you. Even my analogy felt a little insensitive. Daryl suddenly shifted in the bed and looked over his shoulder. I quickly cleared my throat and looked down at the plate of food I was holding.

"I brought you some food," I said to him, trying my best not to sound awkward.

"Jus' leave it there," he pointed to a nightstand beside the bed and propped himself up with his elbow, his bare chest fully exposed to me. As I walked over to place the food down, I could feel his eyes follow me and a familiar warmth returned to my cheeks. When I set the plate down, I looked to find Daryl's gaze still peering up at me with curious eyes.

"Uh, can I sit?" I gestured to a spot on the bed next to him and he silently nodded in response. The mattress felt both firm and soft as I sat down and I looked up at him.

"How do you feel?" I asked, avoiding the sight of his bare chest and looking directly at his face.

"'Bout as good as I look."

"Then you must be dying," I raised my brows in mock surprise and watched a tiny smile grow on his lips. My eyes shifted up to the bandage wrapped around his head and a twinge of guilt twisted in my gut.

"For the record, I tried to stop her," I motioned to his forehead.

"Yea, well ya did a shit job at it," he remarked with a smirk. I was thoroughly surprised that Daryl wasn't more grumpy about being injured. I expected him to be in a less desirable mood. I hung my head for a moment to look at my hands resting in my lap before turning to him again.

"I should've gone with you," I said to him softly. "I could've gotten help or something."

"Ya wouldn't have done much good with that hand," he shook his head. I flexed my hand against the snug bandage that constricted most of its movement. I knew he was right, riding a horse into the mountains with an injured hand wouldn't have been smart. If I had, maybe I would've been the one lying in that bed instead of him.

"At least you found the doll," I said, remembering the raggedy doll T-Dog found in Daryl's back pocket while he was being carried back to camp. "It's more than what anyone else in this group's done."

He looked down for a moment before meeting my gaze again with an unreadable expression, seemingly searching for something in my eyes. For what, I didn't know.

"I should let you get some rest," I looked away and rose from my seat. He said nothing and watched me carefully as I stood before him.

"Have a good night," I said quietly, and before I could stop myself I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips against a spot on his forehead, careful to steer clear of the bandage. He didn't flinch or move away like I expected him to. Instead, he raised his hand and lightly rested it on my arm. I pulled away after a couple seconds and noticed the pink that rushed to his cheeks before I turned away and quickly walked out of the room, down the hallway, and out the door without looking at anyone.

I sat down on the front porch step, and breathed in the cool nighttime air. The porch light above flooded my surroundings, making it perfect bait for various bugs to come and mill about. I placed both hands around the back of my neck and grimaced.

"Why the HELL did I do that?!" I roughly whispered to myself and looked up at the dark shade of blue that painted the sky.

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(𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 7/26/20)