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“Do you ever wish things were different?”
The question came out of nowhere, startling Daryl out of his reverie.
He turned towards the other man, lounging lazily against the rooftop with his hands loosely resting over his stomach. He didn’t look towards Daryl; instead he turned his gaze upward, eyes on the blushing star-splashed sky, brows scrunched together as if worrying over something.
“How things happened with the world,” he continued. “The normal answer is ‘yes’, right? That we should wish everything was still the way it used to be?”
Daryl shrugged into the shingles of the rooftop, now looking towards the sky as well. “No point in wishin’ things were different,” he said evasively.
Jesus hummed in response. “You’re right. I’m just… I’m kinda glad this is how everything wound up.”
He fell into a hush, the pair mirrored images of each other as the sun began creeping up the horizon.
“This place’s supposedly become Hell on Earth,” Daryl finally muttered, “but it ain’t much different than before.” He didn’t turn to look at Jesus, though he could feel his eyes on him. “I got a purpose now, I s’pose.”
“I hear that,” Jesus agreed.
The sun now sat high enough in the sky that it illuminated the both of them. Daryl cast a glance at the other man, shaking his head imperceptibly at the way his rich, dark hair glistened in the sunlight, his blue eyes lit a strange amber in the orange glow.
“No,” Daryl answered quietly. “I don’t wish anythin’ was different.”
Jesus smile lit even brighter in the sun’s shine.