"That pink-haired brat is really crazy." Daryl commented in a mocking and amused tone as he bit into a piece of fried chicken, his blue eyes fixed on the basket of chocolates on the kitchen island - gifted by an admirer.

"I'm old enough to be this bitch's father." He grumbled a little irritated and looked away at your figure in the room, softening his expression. "Besides, doesn't she see the whole damn thing we have here?"