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Daryl Dixon (littledixon) wrote in makebelievelog,

Another dismissive snort escaped his nose in a sharp exhale of air, a small smile on his lips. That smile stalled as he was forced to look at her, and he took in her expression, every serious inch of it. She was speaking from the heart, and Daryl could see that. His fingers curled into a fist, and his entire arm was tense and solid with slight fear at her words. He did not turn away, though. He did not even attempt to pull his chin from her grasp, and his eyes even darted down to her hand - almost trying to stop her from moving away with his thoughts alone - before looking back up at her face.

Daryl could think of plenty of shit that he had said wrong in the past. One night in particular rang out in his head louder than anything else, and he could still his own words loudly in his ears: "Sophia wasn't mine!" He had been such a bastard that night. But the worst part had been Carol's cold and steady acceptance to his tirade, the way she hadn't even flinched as he hurled the insults at her, trying with all of his might to hurt her. Why? Because he was a prick. Someone that didn't deserve a woman as calm and understanding as the one next to him, and why she put up with him to this day, he still didn't understand. He didn't think he ever would.

He copied her motion as he finally moved his gaze to stare down at his lap. She had been so forward. He should have been thrilled. How many damn times had he asked her what the hell she wanted from him? But now he knew, but he didn't know what to do with this. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't know how, wasn't sure if he could --

Thunder crackled over their heads, and just like that, the floodgates were opened.

"Sonuvabitch," Daryl muttered as the rain started to fall, a random spring shower. He stood and grabbed Carol's hand without much forethought. "C'mon." He led the way back out of the garden, pulling her alone, and didn't let go even as he pulled her back into the castle. A few corridors and another staircase later, and they were finally standing outside their quarters. He wasn't exactly drenched, just lightly dampened, and it took him a few moments to realize that he was still holding her hand. He pulled his back quickly, his cheeks burning, as he tightened his jaw to try to keep his composure.

"We good?" he asked. It was such a lame question after everything else they had talked about, but he just wanted to make sure. He just had to make sure.