01 August 2014

Chocolate Chips and Slow Sweet Kisses



There he went, sneaking out into the trees in the middle of the night, casting sneaky glances over his shoulder and hoping nobody would notice. 

Daryl Dixon didn’t realize one thing: Beth Greene was on to him. She now hid amongst the trees, watching him approach while he thought he was alone. She didn’t know where he was going on these middle-of-the-night trips, which was why she was following him now. He’d tried to teach her everything he knew about stealth and tracking and she’d been a damn good student. She used her skills now to track him. He didn’t hear her ease along behind him until he came to a dead tree that had split open, probably from a lightning strike. It was burned and had been that way for years.

He gave one final glance around before digging into the tree. He brought out a fairly large box that he sat on the ground and opened. He rooted around for a few moments and Beth wondered what was in it.

She sometimes worried that, after all they’d been through since losing the prison, he would turn to drugs as a way to cope. She hoped to God he wasn’t coming out in the middle of the night to get high. She waited, she listened, and finally she heard a crunching sound. Frowning, she decided to move forward, not bothering to mask the sound of her approach.

Daryl whirled around, keeping one hand behind his back, and faced her with his mouth full of something that crunched. A crumb fell from the corner of his mouth and bounced off his chin whiskers. They remained there a few moments just staring at one another; Daryl in surprise, Beth in confusion.

“Daryl, what do you have there?”

He swallowed, waited a moment, and then brought his other hand around. She wasn’t sure what to think of what he held in his palm.

It was cookies. Daryl had a handful of chocolate chip cookies.

“Cookies…” Beth said, trying to grasp the significance of this discovery. She was angry but she wasn’t sure why. Daryl wasn’t doing anything harmful to himself. He wasn’t risking the group. He was just eating cookies.

He was eating cookies that he wasn’t sharing with the others. He was eating cookies, a sweet treat, that he was hogging all to himself.

“Want one?” he asked, watching her face evolve from confusion, to surprise, to anger.

“You’ve been holding out on the whole group? Did you think that maybe I’d have liked one?”

“I just offered you one.”

“Yeah, after I caught you!”

“Shhh!” he said, and looked behind her to see if she’d attracted any unwanted attention.

“I can’t believe you found cookies and didn’t offer to share--”

“Beth, shut up! You’ll wake the whole camp!” he whispered, fiercely.

“Good. They should know how you’re--”

Beth almost choked when he shoved a cookie into her mouth. She chewed instinctively, snapping it in half. She took the other half from her lips and looked at it. It was loaded with chocolate chips. The cookie was a bit stale but it was still delicious, especially when the chocolate warmed against her tongue and melted.

“Mmm…”

Daryl nodded and popped another in his mouth.

“I got other stuff,” he said, and nodded for her to join him.

“I’m hurt you didn’t share this with me. I mean, we were out there for so long together,” Beth said. “We got so close. Now you hardly even speak to me.”

That, Beth realized, was the real sore spot for her, not the cookies. He’d helped rescue her from her captors only to revert to the way he’d been when they lived in the prison--acting like he didn’t know she was alive.

“Sometimes people need stuff just for themselves. Sometimes they don’t wanna share,” Daryl said.

Beth thought it over and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Daryl watched while Beth examined the box. “Macaroons, Pecan Sandies…” She gasped and held up a blue package. “Double Stuf Oreos!”

“Wish we had milk,” Daryl lamented.

“That would be great,” she agreed.

She put the packages back and nibbled on another cookie. “You mad at me?”

“No. Why’d you think that?” he asked.

Beth shrugged. “I just never get to talk to you. It’s like you don’t want to be around me. Or worse, like you don’t want people to see you around me.”

“No,” was all he said. She wished he’d elaborate but he didn’t. Instead, he gave a shy smile and said, “I thought maybe…”

“What?” she prompted.

“Maybe you was mad at me.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “I let you get kidnapped.”

Beth felt as though he’d kicked her in the stomach. “Of course not! You didn’t do that, Daryl. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

She finished her cookie and shook her head to refuse when Daryl offered another. She scooted closer to him and took his hand in hers. He looked down at their entwined fingers. Her hand was so small in comparison to his. He could feel her bones under the skin. She felt delicate to him. He was afraid to squeeze back, afraid he'd break her. That was, after all, the story of his life. He broke anything good that came to him.

“You saved me, you know. All that stuff you taught me about surviving came in handy. You taught me how to fight.”

“You taught me how to feel,” he whispered. He wasn’t quite able to meet her gaze. He tried to pull away but Beth wouldn’t let him. Instead, Beth situated herself in his lap. He looked toward the camp as though afraid they’d get caught. Or perhaps he looked toward the camp because he was afraid to look into her eyes.

Beth wasn’t going to give Daryl an out. She turned his face to hers and finally he looked her in the eye.

“We’re good for each other, then. Ain’t we?”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “We are.”

Beth pressed her lips to his in a slow, sweet kiss. He tasted of chocolate chip cookies and he smelled of the forest and fresh air and that musk that was uniquely his scent. He rested his hands, big and warm and strong, against her hips and pulled her close until there wasn’t an inch separating them. Beth pulled back, breathless, and lovingly stroked his face.

“I want to keep you all to myself,” she said. “I want all of you and I don’t wanna share.”

His lips curved up in a smile. “You won’t have to,” he promised, and laid her down in the soft grass, under the moon and the stars, and gave himself over to her completely.

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