We are all infected.
The pain doesn't go away;you just make room for it.
My name is Andrea.
I'm just doing what I can to stay alive.
[[independent TWD RP]]
She pressed her palms firmly against his chest, almost involuntarily, when she felt his hands easing down to her thighs and then up again to her waist. She loved that, how with every movement he was revealing more of himself to her in a way she’d never expected. Andrea’s lips parted slightly, not to break the kiss but to let out a soft, contented moan of an exhale. It was Daryl who drew back after that, and for a moment she was worried he was putting the brakes on - until he grinned at her, that is. Actually grinned at her, in such a sweet, playful way that it almost made him look like a little boy. Innocent.
But full of mischief, evidently, because a second later those arms had succeeded in shifting her onto the bed in a single movement even as her legs continued to straddle his hips. She had to laugh, as much in surprise at the gesture as at the look on his face while he’d done it. And it occurred to her that this wasn’t a different Daryl from the one she’d come to know: it was simply another facet of him, maybe a truer version than the one who kept everyone at arm’s length.
Her fingers trailed up and down his arms as he levered himself so that he was hovering over her without letting his full weight rest on her. Not that she would’ve minded, she thought, a little wryly, and slid a hand up to cup his neck as he leaned down to kiss her again, his mouth warm and already so familiar.
Andrea let go. She let go of every grief, stress, frustration, regret, fear, that she’d been dragged through since the world went to shit. She let go of the blame and the guilt gripping the pit of her stomach over Amy, and over Dale. She let go of the white-hot anger towards Rick. She let go of everything. Maybe it was only temporary, but right now it didn’t seem to matter either way. For once, she actually felt safe - and it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with high walls or a strong gate. It had nothing to do with guns or guard towers or people on watch 24-7.
It had everything to do with Daryl.
Each of their movements grew slower and slower, more passionate with every stroke made. When that happened, every last bit of doubt or fear that was left in Daryl (and that wasn’t much) was wiped away. He knew she wouldn’t leave now, and the fact that he was so certain of that made his heart swell in his chest.
Their kissing eventually came to a natural stopping point, both of them exhausted from the events of the day. Andrea and Daryl both pulled away at the same time, their faces still close enough so that they were sharing the same air, breathing each other in. The hunter’s eyes fluttered open and he leaned off to the side on one arm, allowing his opposite hand to come up to Andrea’s face, brushing back a loose strand of hair, looking into her eyes.
They were unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It seemed like there were a million and one colors that somebody had decided to sneak into her irises. They seemed to glow, even through the darkness of his cell. The shades of blue and green were so vibrant, so alive, Daryl was sure he’d never get tired of looking at them, of looking at her.
He thumbed the side of her face and another small smile stretched over his lips. ”Gettin’ tired ‘a me yet?” He asked, rolling over onto his back, pulling Andrea into his side by her waist.
The way they were lying together made Daryl feel absolutely at ease, as if nothing had ever been easier. And Hell, maybe there hadn’t. He sat up a little bit and pulled the blanket over them, one arm resting underneath her, his fingertips making small circles against her side.
“Get some sleep.” He said quietly, turning his head so his lips brushed her temple. He tightened his hold on her, bringing her just a little bit closer into him. “Got shit ta do tomorrow.”
“Gettin’ tired ‘a me yet?”
He tugged her closer with an arm at her waist, and she stroked the side of his face as she leaned in to kiss him again. Softer, more tender than before, rather than verbally answering his question. It hurt her that he would still think that; that there was still a part of him who believed he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worthy. But it wasn’t even a concern, because getting tired of Daryl, in any capacity - tired of looking at him, of the intense blue of his eyes, the rare sweetness of his smile, the strength of his arms around her - just wasn’t in the cards, and never would be.
Andrea wriggled a little closer to him, further down the cot, into a more comfortable position as he spread the blanket over both of them. His fingers traced little gentle circles against her side and it made her exhale a long sigh, nestling right into him. Her head pillowed in the crook of his shoulder, one hand snaking around his waist and resting easily at his hip.
“Get some sleep.”
His voice was quiet, comforting, his warm breath on her temple. She felt his arms around her a little more firmly, and a small, tired smile crept across her lips.
“Got shit ta do tomorrow.”
That was an understatement. God only knew what kind of hell tomorrow would bring. But for once, she wasn’t all that concerned. They’d face it, whatever it was - they’d charge it head on and they’d deal with it the only way they knew how. And they’d do it together.
She was in his corner and she was there to stay, as long as she lived.
Her chin tilted up slightly, just far enough to softly press her lips to his jawline. It was a baby kiss; the benediction of a kiss.
“Same shit, different day,” she murmured, a smile in her voice, as her eyelids suddenly grew too heavy for her to stop them from closing. “Goodnight, Daryl.” Sleep tight. Don’t let the walkers bite.
Barely a minute later, Andrea was sound asleep.
Daryl ignored the looks they were given as they practically floated down the hallway. All traces of the awful things that had happened earlier that day were wiped clean from the man’s memory for the time being. He didn’t think about the familiar face he’d seen in town, or about the men that had pointed their rifles at him; not about the American flag or about the scorched bodies - but about the time he spent with Andrea. He thought about the way she held him on the bike, the way she’d nibbled ear, how she’d bathed him, cleansed him; the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, and even the way that her hand seemed to fit perfectly in his own as they walked down the corridor together. He watched her turn into her cell, their fingers still tangled together as she did.The look in Andrea’s eyes made it clear that she was offering to stay with Daryl for the night. He wasn’t about to let the day slip away from him by going back to his own cell, sleeping alone and having nightmares about who knows what. He smiled sweetly at her before following her into the cell and sitting himself down on her bed.
He met her eyes, his smile growing slightly wider knowing that his night had just gotten around ten times better. He grinned as he shook his head, and gave her a playful shove. “Quit it, Blondie.” He chuckled quietly. Damn it, if she kept looking at him like that, he was sure his heart would fall out of his chest.
“Blondie?” she laughed, gently shoving him right back. “So what do I get to call you, then?” Without waiting for an answer, she eased herself down onto his lap until she was straddling him, placing a hand on either side of his neck. Her fingers trailed along his hairline in a way that was fast becoming habitual. They were both tired, she knew; it had been a long day. But the parts that stood out had nothing to do with anything or anyone they’d seen in town - all of that faded to Andrea’s periphery, until it seemed like nothing more than vague memories of an old nightmare. She and Daryl both needed sleep, either way, but she didn’t want to sleep yet. Every second they spent this close together felt almost sacred, not to be rushed or dismissed.
Andrea held onto his eyes, smiling at him like he was the only thing in the entire world worth a damn. She leaned down to kiss him, softly at first and then more intensely, palms sliding over his chest, pulling herself just that much closer with her legs. She needed to be near him, that was all; the particulars didn’t matter. She just needed to feel him there with her, to touch him and know that he wasn’t going anywhere.
He gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him. He sighed softly into her mouth, completely satisfied with how everything was going. His hands moved down her body to the tops of her thighs, and then back up to her waist. As he did this, Andrea’s hands pressed into his chest, causing him to smile against her lips. He had to be doing something right.
When a little sound came from her mouth, he broke the kiss and grinned playfully before flipping her over onto the bed, her legs still wrapped around him as he loomed over her. He placed his forearms on either side of her, his arms holding him up. This way, he could lie on top of her, but she wouldn’t be crushed under his body weight. Daryl smiled some more as he leaned down to kiss her again, wishing they’d never have to stop. He could kiss Andrea for hours, days even - and after everything she’d been through over the past few months, she damn well deserved it.
All that really mattered to him anymore was Andrea. She cared about him, and he cared about her. What more could he ever ask for? He slipped one of his arms under her lower back, causing their bodies to press against each other. He needed to know that she was there, safe and sound. Only a few days ago, she’d been missing, gone, lost; but now, here she was, perfectly fine. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and this, more than anything else, was proving that to him. This was real; she was there with him, and he wasn’t ever going to let her go.
She pressed her palms firmly against his chest, almost involuntarily, when she felt his hands easing down to her thighs and then up again to her waist. She loved that, how with every movement he was revealing more of himself to her in a way she’d never expected. Andrea’s lips parted slightly, not to break the kiss but to let out a soft, contented moan of an exhale. It was Daryl who drew back after that, and for a moment she was worried he was putting the brakes on - until he grinned at her, that is. Actually grinned at her, in such a sweet, playful way that it almost made him look like a little boy. Innocent.
But full of mischief, evidently, because a second later those arms had succeeded in shifting her onto the bed in a single movement even as her legs continued to straddle his hips. She had to laugh, as much in surprise at the gesture as at the look on his face while he’d done it. And it occurred to her that this wasn’t a different Daryl from the one she’d come to know: it was simply another facet of him, maybe a truer version than the one who kept everyone at arm’s length.
Her fingers trailed up and down his arms as he levered himself so that he was hovering over her without letting his full weight rest on her. Not that she would’ve minded, she thought, a little wryly, and slid a hand up to cup his neck as he leaned down to kiss her again, his mouth warm and already so familiar.
Andrea let go. She let go of every grief, stress, frustration, regret, fear, that she’d been dragged through since the world went to shit. She let go of the blame and the guilt gripping the pit of her stomach over Amy, and over Dale. She let go of the white-hot anger towards Rick. She let go of everything. Maybe it was only temporary, but right now it didn’t seem to matter either way. For once, she actually felt safe - and it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with high walls or a strong gate. It had nothing to do with guns or guard towers or people on watch 24-7.
It had everything to do with Daryl.
(Source: walking-survivor)
☣
[ I’m getting to my owed replies soon, but in the meantime - PROMOTION! These are some of my favorite roleplay blogs in existence, and if you’re not following them already then you really, really need to.
TWD:
- walking-survivor
- daryl-fucking-dixon
- ol-merle-dixon
- deputyrick
- sweetcherokeerose
- deputy-shane-walsh
- mrslorigrimes
LOST:
UNDERWORLD:
OCs:
- as-thecrowflies (TWD)
- lena-marie-c (TWD)
- shotgunshellsandfeathers (multiverse)
I’m probably missing some people, so I might edit this later. But yeah. All of the above are awesome and quality and you should say hi. ]
[AND EVERYBODY FOLLOW THIS GLENN. BECAUSE GLENN.]
notwalkerbait is Glenn, and nobody will ever convince me otherwise. - anonymous
[OOC: That moment when your partner posts something that is just so completely fucking flawless and you just know there’s no hope in hell of ever responding adequately.]
![live-togetherdiealone:
[CHLOE. CHLOE LOOK WHAT HAPPENED.]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6k1grhML11ryfxaeo1_500.png)