Re: Ferris Wheel
Her finger stroking his was a delightful surprise. He wanted to open his eyes and confirm the touch really was there, that his mind wasn't making it up, but he didn't. Wouldn't until they started moving. Then things would be better. He could check the touch was solid and real, then focus on her, and everything would be fine. Delightful, even. Never mind there was nothing between him and death but a metal bar and a woman who might be of a mind to push him out. No. No, Daryl wouldn't do something that stupid. Pushing someone out a Ferris wheel was too ostentatious. And they were beyond the whole "I want to kill you, I want to destroy you" thing anyway. They liked each other now. They had admitted it. In a quasi, half-assed sort of way.
Chuckling, he leaned his shoulder against hers as the ride started in earnest. His eyes opened, caught sight of their hands, and then shifted to stare at the scarf pooled in her lap. "Poppet, if you ever gained a disposition as sweet as cotton candy tastes, I think I would lose interest in you." He kissed her temple, an affection, unconscious gesture. "I like you the way you are, all prickly and sour."