𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)

𝑇𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦 𝑆𝑖𝑥

I shivered slightly as I felt the nighttime air embrace me: My hair was still wet from my shower and I had traded my daytime wear for a tank top and a pair of thin lounge pants. I carried my soiled clothes from the front porch all the way to my tent, enjoying the feel of the old sneakers Carol handed me down. Frankly, I had been getting tired of wearing the same hard boots all the time. I was about to open my tent when my eyes caught notice of a dim light shining through the mesh of a tent a couple of yards away: It was Daryl's.

I quickly tossed my clothes inside my tent and walked over to his with light and quiet steps. I could see him through the mesh: lying on his cot and playing with an arrow. Beside him, stood a lit camping lantern that illuminated the interior of his tent.

"Daryl," I called out in a hushed voice and his head jerked in my direction with a guarded expression and a tighter grip around his arrow.

"Can I come in?" I gestured to the opening of his tent. His face softened and he silently nodded. Hopeful that his tent would be warmer than I currently felt, I unzipped the flap and stepped inside, making sure to close it back up before turning to him. A moment passed where neither of us said anything, both looking at each other awkwardly, until I cleared my throat and wrapped my arms around my midsection.

"I meant to stop by earlier, to see how you were doing. I just didn't get around to it," I said to him. His eyes weren't squinted and focused like they usually were during the day. Instead, they seemed calm and relaxed as he gazed up at me from his cot. The wound on his temple was still visible, yet lacked the gauze I had seen before and his shirt remained unbuttoned, letting the edges of a bandage peek out.

"S'fine," he said casually. "I'm better, but I still feel like shit, ya know?"

I nodded my head although the truth was, I didn't know. I had never fallen down a hill and gotten shot all in the same day, and I hoped that I never would.

"You can sit if you want," he motioned to the empty spot on the floor next to his cot, which was closer to the ground than I expected. I obliged, and carefully sat down with my legs crossed.

"How's the hand?" He asked in a raspy voice.

I looked down at my hand, which sported a fresh bandage that I fastened after my shower.

"It's better, but it still feels like shit, you know?" I answered with a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. He smiled softly and looked down at his hands resting on his stomach. Something in my chest would always swell at the sight of his smile. Maybe, it was because seeing Daryl grin was the equivalent of seeing a shooting star.

"I wish you would smile more," my words slipped out, and a little alarm in the back of my mind sounded off.

"Why's that?" He peered at me curiously.

"It just, uh, suits you. That's all," I answered and reached up to scratch the back of my neck. "A lot of people have ugly smiles. It looks like, you know, when horses do that thing when they pull their lips back and you can see their giant teeth and the food stuck in their gums. That's how I smile, but not you." I internally cringed at my analogy and pictured the awkward hole I kept digging myself deeper into.

"Nah, you don't smile like that," Daryl shook his head.

"Oh, really? Then how do I smile?" I rested my elbows on my thighs, leaning closer to the cot.

"I dunno, it's just nice, somethin' you never get tired of seein'," he explained, looking at me carefully as he spoke. I held his gaze for a few seconds before his eyes looked to another corner of the tent.

"Tell me 'bout yer day," he cleared his throat and scratched his chin.

"You wanna know about my day?" I chuckled softly.

"I ain't got nothin' better to do," he shrugged and carefully shifted in his cot so that he was facing me. I suddenly felt like I was being put on the spot and felt my stomach churn. My eyes darted away from his gaze and landed on his pillow, where underneath the spine of a book peeked out.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather read," I reached forward and pulled the book out from under the pillow, turning it so that I could read the cover, "The Mystery of the Missing Man?" I waved around the book with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"It's boring," he scoffed.

"Have you even tried to read it?" I dropped the book in my lap and cocked an eyebrow.

"No. But, I will if ya tell me 'bout yer day." His voice lowered into something calmer and the strong southern accent he usually spoke with became mellowed.

"Okay," I agreed softly and lightly bit my lower lip. I recounted how Dale gave me the notebook, and the similarities between him and my father, like the way they both smile with a kindness no one else seems to possess. I mentioned the ordeal with Maggie and the soap that burned my eye. Daryl found that funny. I even threw in events from yesterday and the day before that, telling him about my uncomfortable conversation with Glenn, how I made up with Andrea, and how rude Lori was being. I surprised myself with how comfortable I felt with Daryl and the way I let my words flow out without a filter or a second thought: It felt like I was talking to a long time friend.

"So, yeah. That's pretty much all of the interesting things that have happened to me recently," I finished with a big yawn. Daryl hadn't broken his gaze the whole time I was telling my story. He looked at me with interest in his eyes, as if what I was saying was actually a thrilling story that he couldn't get enough of.

"At least you ain't boring," he finally said and shifted onto his back once again.

"Thanks?" I said, not sure whether his comment was to be taken as a compliment or an insult. I covered my mouth and turned away from him as I yawned again and felt my eyes tear up.

"I should, uh, get back to my tent," I sniffled and wiped my nose. Daryl looked at me with an almost unreadable expression, a tiny hint of disappointment seeping through his otherwise stoic face.

"I'm happy you're doing better," I added softly.

"Thanks for comin' by," he nodded as I rose to my feet. "G'night Charlotte."

I felt my heart flutter as my name left his mouth and suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Good night Daryl."

✯✯✯

(𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 8/4/20)