Something Missing [Daryl Dixon Love Story]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven 

(Emma’s POV)

~~~~~

“Emma?” he asked breaking the silence that had started to weigh on me. Oh, I loved it when he said my name. 

“Mmm?” I moan sleepily. 

“Look at me.” He says. 

I lazily lift my head and stare at his eyes. “Mmm?” I repeat the sound. I hadn’t sleep since the morning before. A Communications assignment had left sleep no longer an option. It was almost 8 p.m. now. 

He intertwined his fingers with mine where my hand had been resting on his chest. “How long have we been together now?” 

My eyes squinted as I went over it in my head. “I think…” A yawn. “I think it’s been two and a half years now.”

“Oh.” He said.

Something’s wrong. My mind told me. 

I blink away the sleepiness and sit up completely and stare at him. “What’s wrong, Grant?” Had I forgotten something? Were my numbers wrong?

“Huh?” He asked, quickly. “Oh, nothing.” I hated that. It’s never nothing. It’s just like when people are never “fine”. 

“You sure?”

He paused. “Actually... There is something.”

“What’s that?” I wasn’t sure why, but my voice quivered. 

He stared at me, but not at the surface. I could tell by the intensity that he was looking into my eyes. He was lost. He absentmindedly pressed his fingers to my cheek, not breaking his gaze. 

“Emma…” He sighed. “I found the box.”

I swallowed hard. This wasn’t good. 

(Dakota’s POV)

I walked through the woods kicking at the leaves. I was alone. Aaron still wasn’t back and I hadn’t seen Beck since yesterday. Ruth wouldn’t answer my questions and I ran out of the cabin. That brings me to now. I was told I should be resting, but fuck that. I’m not a baby. I’m not going to piss and moan about being injured. There was no place for that in this world. 

I looked around at the trees. I wanted to climb. I wanted peace and this was the place where I would find it. I scanned nearby trees knocking them off my imaginary list as I went. No. Nope. Not that one. Maybe that one. I stopped  at a tree with the lowest branch only four feet from the ground with reasonably spaced branches going up the rest of the tree. I walked toward it and stopped in front of it looking it up in down. 

“You’ll do.” I put on hand on a higher branch and placed my feet one after the other against the branch. My other hand met the first on the branch and I started to climb. I climbed until I ran out of branches that I trusted to support me then I sat. My legs dangled down and I looked at the ground, thirty feet below me. The sight wasn’t daunting to me. If I fell from this height I had a strong feeling it wouldn’t kill me. Not that I wanted to die, I didn’t. But I wasn’t going to act like I would never die. Immortality is a delusion made up by humans with overactive imaginations and wishful thinking. I could die just as easy as my brother had, just as easy as Aaron’s mother had or Emma’s…everyone. 

A sigh escaped my lips. My side was throbbing again. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the tree. A light breeze softly blew my hair across my face. This life was nothing. What was the point? It’s like the survivors—what little there are—were waiting for something, but what was there to wait for? What was coming?