Stumbling upon Alexandria, Reese recounts the events up until now. Meeting Rick's group at the prison, scavenging, sickness, and attacks while creating an attachment to the stoic Bowman.
“Reg, be useful for once,” she calls with a playful tone. He joins her. Pulling a box from a shelf out of her reach. Pulling out the fresh reels. Playfully bickering as she corrected him at every step. It was cute. Thinking back to the last time she felt like that.
~.~
Climbing the ladder to the watchtower and pushing the door up. Wincing when the slab of metal crashed against the floor on the other side. Poking her head up, to see Daryl sitting on the window ledge, looking out into the night. He didn’t pay her any mind, but from the subtle turn of his head from the noise, he noted her presence.
“Do you sleep?” She couldn’t help, but ask.
“No,” he answers without diverting his gaze from the crescent moon. “Do you?” he returns.
“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since.” She sighs. Sniffling quickly wiping her face with her sleeve.
“You don’t have to,” he says, referring to her severely damaged maternal instincts that she didn’t want to explain further. “Good for you knocking me on my ass.”
“You didn’t-”
“To hell with that,” he cuts off. “You’re one of the baddest bitches I’ve ever met.” He comments.
“Awe, that has to be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She scoffs, chuckling lightly.
“Don’t get used to it.” He huffs.
“We’re gonna be here a while.” He retrieves the deck of cards Carl had given him.
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“What are we playing for?” She asks taking a seat across from him.
“Nothing.” He shrugs, shuffling the cards.
“I don’t play without stakes,” she cuts in.
“Boredom.” He answers. “How’s that for stakes?” He cocks a brow.
“Nah.” She shakes her head. “Truth or dare strip poker. The winner of the round gets to have the other do what they wish. Tell a Truth: you answer a question about yourself. Do a Dare: you remove a piece of clothing.” She starts basking in the moonlight. “Don’t want to do the Truth you have to do a dare, and vice versa.” She further explains.
“Damn, gurl.” he raises his brows. “Lil’ mama, thirstin’ that bad.” He chuckles.
“I like stakes, and you’re not bad to look at.” She answers. “You scared?” she taunts.
“I ain’t scared of nothin’.” He corrects.
“A’ight.” She hums, taking the deck from his hands and beginning to deal the cards.
