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Summary
Michonne met his eyes, unexpected softness in that careful look. He tried to keep his gaze on her face, valiantly, not dipping his eyes to her still open blouse.
“What do you know? Your redneck’s a gentleman,” she murmured to Rick and they shared a glance that was heavy with what he did not understand.
“Why?” Daryl said, and it was a painful rasp.
Rick looked at him. “Why do you think?”
Daryl swallowed. “I ain’t a dog.” He is gruff, resentful, and his words silenced them, as though they just now understood how he had seen this.
“We’re not throwing you a bone,” Michonne said, and she sounded stricken. “That’s not…that’s not what this has been about.”