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“It started out with a kiss! How did it end up like this?”
Your voice carried through your open living room window, tipsy lyrics standing out against the infamous vocals of Brandon Flowers. A few passerbys stopped to stare, some snickering to themselves and continuing on their way, while others stuck around, eyebrows cocked and looking uncertain. Soon, a few turned into several, then several turned into a small crowd. And that caught the archer’s attention.
“T’hell’s goin’ on?” he mumbled, kicking up dirt as he picked up the pace to a speed walk. The group forming outside your home didn’t mean anything good, as far as he was concerned. He could barely make out what you were saying, your words blending into a cacophony of chaos.
“It was only a kiss! It was only a kiss!”
As he got closer, the loud barrage of noises morphed into coherent vocals, and the joy in your voice was enough to provide him some relief. At least you weren’t in trouble.
“But she’s touching his chest now! He takes off her dress now!”
“S’a damn play-by-play?” He clambered up the steps of your front porch, now able to make out the music underneath your singing. He watched you move back and forth between the gap in the curtain like you were running in circles.
What the hell were you getting up to?
He swung the front door open, the handle hitting the wall with a ‘thud’ before bouncing off. Peering into the living room, he spotted Maggie and Michonne on the couch, leaning back with goofy smiles on their faces and watching you put on the performance of a lifetime. You were traipsing around the open space, alternating between various arm twirls, silly little kicks, and swinging your hips to the beat. His baby blues drifted from you to an open bottle of merlot on the coffee table.
Ah, yes. There was the answer to your unbridled chaos.
The floorboards creaked under his boots, pulling the ladies’ attention away from their evening entertainment. “What’s she—“
“She’s all yours,” Maggie interrupted, resting her glass next to the now-empty bottle.
As they stood up, his gaze darted back and forth between them, then to you, then back to them. “When’d this start?” he asked, nodding in your direction.
“About twenty minutes ago,” Michonne explained. The trio watched you prance in circles, balancing the glass in your hand and managing not to spill a drop despite your inebriated state. “First, it was Jolene, then the Cupid Shuffle—twice. Now it’s Mr. Brightside. She’s been belting it since the song started.”
“Could hear ‘er halfway down the damn street,” Daryl scoffed, a hint of laughter laced throughout.
You spun close to the record player in the corner, your hand almost colliding with its wooden plinth. “‘Cause I just can’t look! It’s killing me!”
“Good luck, Dixon,” Maggie teased, following Michonne to the front door. “You’re gonna need it.”
He rolled his eyes playfully, scoffing again. “The hell ya think got me this far?”
As the two women let themselves out, you danced toward him, taking another sip from your glass. A small drop dribbled out of the corner of your mouth and down your jaw to your neck. You were unfazed, though, looking up at him with the biggest grin he’d ever seen on you and a twinkle in your eye that gave the stars some hefty competition.
“Ya been drinkin’, Peach?” he asked, pretending he didn’t already know the answer. He wiped away the stray drop with his thumb, his calloused skin heaven against yours.
“Ssssh.” You pressed a finger to his lips, tapping it a few times like that would emphasize your point. “You’re interrupting my song.”
The look on his face was the perfect mix between fond and flabbergasted. “Gotta lotta damn nerve there, sweetheart.”
You continued your impromptu karaoke session, ignoring his attitude. “Jealousy! Turning saints into the sea!”
“Jus’ gun’…” He carefully plucked the glass from your fingers, ensuring your grip didn’t tighten around the bowl before pulling it away and setting it down next to Maggie’s. But not before swigging the last of it back for himself.
For your sake, of course. You were cut off for the evening.
“Swimming through sick lullabies!” You swayed before him, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other with a light bounce in your step. You looked at him expectedly, hoping he would join you, even though you knew he wouldn’t. “Choking on your alibi!”
As much as Daryl wanted to scoop you up, carry you off to bed, and prepare to help you nurse tomorrow’s impending hangover, he didn’t move. Didn’t dare take a single step from the sight of you before him, giggly and flushed and at ease–something he’d never seen before. The smile on his lips was small, barely noticeable, but it reflected a wide, toothy grin in his eyes.
From the day you met Daryl back at the quarry camp, you’d been on edge, wary of every person you came in contact with and ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. Since arriving at Alexandria a few days prior, you’d been very high-strung—more than normal, somehow. You’d barely taken a deep breath since stepping within the sanctity of the walls and refused to touch anything other than water. Hell, you barely touched that.
Alert at all times, you’d been saying for months. No distractions. Gotta be ready for anything at any moment.
Now here you were, loose and carefree, like there weren’t hundreds of walkers outside. Like you hadn’t been walking around as a complete anxious mess since the outbreak started. Like things were stable. Like you were stable.
Watching you finally relax and unwind, having one of the simplest human experiences–drinking a little too much and singing a little too loud–was everything.
“Least ya havin’ fun,” he mused, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms, propping one foot up behind him. His boot would surely leave a dark print behind, but that was future Daryl’s problem.
“But it’s just the price I pay! Destiny is calling me!”
His chuckle was sickly sweet. “Oh yeah? What’s it sayin’?”
“Open up my eager eyes!” you sang through a fit of giggles, disregarding his question. For your grand finale, you lunged into his arms, dipping yourself for extra dramatic effect. “'Cause I’m Mr. Brightside!”
Daryl couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and hearty as you threw your head back. “Ya sure are, sunshine.”