A simple supply hunt for a source of water in the middle of Atlanta turns sour quickly for Erin as she come fist to face with a fuming, handless Merle Dixon.
Alone in the middle of the apocalypse with only a racist guy who doesn't know the differen...
"There's some good on this world, and it's worth fighting for..." - J.R.R. Tolkien
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Erin held Daryl's torso loosely, still cautious to get comfortable with it in case he changed his mind about whether he was okay with the contact. The constant thought of it in her mind distracted her from the horse-riding problem as they journeyed further into the forest on the back of the horse, its hooves rustling the undergrowth as it thundered through it.
She focused her sight on the male's back, noticing the top of a tattoo peeping out from underneath his vest and shirt. Only able to see a pair of horns as the rest was hidden beneath the fabric, she guessed it was some sort of devil - quite fitting for a tough guy, though she was beginning to feel he was a big softie under that shell.
She wasn't sure how safe she felt on the back of a horse when the man who was supposed to be holding the reins was preoccupied with loading his crossbow, "Uh, I'm no expert on horses or crossbows, but I'm pretty sure the two don't mix very well..."
Daryl only hummed in reply, seemingly ignoring her as he suddenly tugged the animal to an abrupt halt, very nearly throwing her from it if she hadn't been holding onto him. Before she had time to question it, he was on the move, sliding out of her grip and landing silently on the ground. He held his arms out to help her down, "Come on. Ya either let me help ya down or ya try and jump and probably break ya leg... Your choice."
"I thought we were hunting on the horse?" She didn't know why she was questioning it - anything that meant she could get off the beast was surely the best thing going at that moment - but the change in the plan confused her.
"Nah. It ain't exactly subtle, is it?" he pointed out as she let him help her down, placing her on the ground beside him, "Only brought it to save time walkin'. And to see ya try and tackle it."
"Oh, you did, did you?" She tilted her head up at him, brushing the dirt and horsehair from her jeans and looking him straight in the eye, "Well, I'm glad you've had a good laugh at my expense..."
She didn't intend for it to come out so bitchy and snappy, but as soon as she finished speaking the amused look on his face dampened. The one thing she couldn't stand was people laughing at her, ever since the unknown voice had done so on that fated rooftop - taunting her weakness and making her feel worthless as he took her world from her. Somehow, Daryl doing it hit her almost as hard, making her heart sink for reasons unbeknownst to her.
"I didn't mean it like that..." he said quietly, sincerity running deep in his eyes and his voice. He knew he'd hurt her, but something told her he wasn't sure why.
"Yeah..." she breathed, focusing her attention on the ground since the guilty look in his eyes made her feel bad for saying anything at all, "Yeah, I know that... I just overreacted..."
"Okay..." Daryl's tone said he wanted to say more but he held back, hitching up his crossbow and turning away, "C'mon, I see some tracks up ahead..."
Erin would have followed straight after him without another word, but the argument she was waging between her head and her heart made her unable to move. Her brain told her he'd been mean first so she was justified in snapping at him whereas her heart argued he'd only meant it as a joke and she was mean for taking it the wrong way.
A few metres ahead of her, Daryl seemed to realise she wasn't following and turned to look back, cocking an eyebrow at how she was just stood there, lost in her own thoughts, "Ya comin' or not?"
His gruff voice abruptly pulled her away from the internal battle as her head suddenly snapped up in surprise. She met his questioning gaze, gathering her mishmash of thoughts together and nodding, "Yeah, I just... I'm sorry..."
Daryl's eyes widened at the apparent absurdity of what she'd just said before narrowing again and becoming interested in the worn strap of the crossbow, "Ya don't have anythin' to be sorry for... Should be me apologisin'-"
"I don't mean for now," she countered softly, taking a few cautious steps towards him, "I meant for punching you... and for being a general arse towards you..."
He shook his head slightly as she came within a foot of him, his breath hitching in his throat as she reached up to run her fingers along the yellowing bruises on his face. They were ugly up close, but from a distance he somehow still looked ruggedly handsome.
Gulping nervously at her touch, he looked down at her, "Nah... I was bein' a dick like ya said... Uh, can ya quit touchin' me..."
She quickly withdrew her hand, scared she'd hurt him, but he caught her wrist gently as she went to put it down.
"Ya didn't hurt me. Don't worry about me so much... I ain't worth ya worryin' about."
Erin was taken aback by the sudden change in his attitude, but she couldn't help smiling, "I reckon you are. Yeah, you're an arse and I hate you..." She saw his face fall, but quickly flipped their wrists so she was holding his tightly, forcing him to look at her, "For the horse, I mean. And being a dick. And being Merle's brother. But Daryl, you ain't half bad to be around, as hideous as that sounds..."
His face relaxed considerably at her words, the corner of his lips threatening a smile, "Yeah, well, you ain't half bad either, woman..."
"Okay, well, you can stop calling me 'woman' for a start. Erin will do. Teach it to Merle, too, while you're at it," she smirked, "God knows how he still gets it wrong..."
"Doin' it to fuck with ya, I reckon," Daryl admitted, running a hand through his straggly hair, "He don't care if ya hate him for it."
Erin sighed, though she wasn't surprised, "He's a fucking piece of work..."
The bruises that littered Daryl's face still filled her with guilt as she looked up at him. Realising she was still holding his wrist, Erin moved her hand slightly and wrapped her small fingers around his larger calloused ones.
He let out a small, barely audible, gasp of surprise as she gave his hand a brief squeeze.
"What was that for?" he asked hoarsely as she let go, looking down at her in confusion as another unintelligible emotion passed through his eyes.
"Not being as big a dick as I thought you were," she replied, tearing her gaze away from his to pull her machete from her jacket, wiping the sweat from the handle on her jeans, "How about this hunt, then?"
Daryl snapped back to reality, blinking rapidly before turning away from her and holding his bow ready in his arms, "Yeah... Just don't do that again..."
Erin would have bet any money that the slight pink tint on the younger Dixon's cheekbones was due to her holding his hand rather than the heat, but she didn't mention it, deciding not to embarrass him further, "It was just a little squeeze..."
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"It was just a little squeeze..." Erin joked, making Daryl's face heat up even more as he purposefully faced away from her. It was such a small gesture, but so foreign to him that he was feeling things he'd never felt.
The way his heart was pounding told him she didn't know the half of it...
