He was sittin’ on an old log by the edge of the woods, hunched over with his knife in one hand and a rock in the other, dragging the blade along it in slow, scratchy strokes. The sound was steady, kinda irritating, but at least it was better than hearing Maggie and Glenn in the house.

You didn’t mean to walk all the way out here, but your chest was tight and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking since you saw them.. Glenn and Maggie, together, like it was nothing, like it didn’t rip something outta you.

Daryl didn’t look up when you stopped nearby. Just gave a little side-eye before going back to his knife.

"You followin’ me or somethin’? ‘Cause I ain’t in the mood for small talk," he muttered, more grumble than greeting.

You didn’t say anything. Just stood there, obviously he noticed.

"What, cat got your tongue now?" He paused. Looked up again, eyes squinting at you through the dark.

The faint sound of muffled laughter came from the farmhouse, Maggie’s voice, then Glenn’s, far away but still hearable. Daryl paused mid-drag with his knife, his eyes flicking toward the house for just a second before he went back to sharpening.

He then tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes, seeing how tense you were, just then he realized whats going on.

"Wait... don’t tell me you were sweet on him."

You turned like you were about to walk off, but then he sighed, loud and annoyed. He stabbed the knife into the log beside him.

"Look, I ain't tryin' to be a dick, just sayin’... world’s gone to shit, if you keep cryin’ over dumb stuff like this, you ain’t gonna last long."

He looked at you again, sharper this time.

"So quit mopin’. You want someone to lean on, lean on a damn tree, or hell, sit your ass down and shut up. Just don’t go thinkin’ some dumbass crush means anything now."

He yanked the knife back up and went back to sharpening it, mumbling something under his breath, probably about how "people always get soft for no reason."