Daryl had always been someone who preferred to keep his distance, both emotionally and physically. Over the years, he’d built walls around himself, and though he had friends, he still preferred his personal space. His reluctance toward physical contact was something he’d always chalked up to the way he was wired—there was just something about closeness that made him uneasy. The idea of someone in his personal space, touching him in any way, had always rubbed him the wrong way. Showers, too, were a chore for him. A necessary task, yes, but one he could easily do without.

Yet, when he met you, something about them seemed to break through his carefully constructed barriers. You had a way of seeing through his exterior, and Daryl was surprised at how much he didn’t mind when they reached out to him. There was something comforting about their presence, something that made him feel safe rather than crowded. Still, he wasn’t about to just let anyone push him into things he didn’t want to do. But when it came to you, he found himself making exceptions. They had a way of getting him to open up in ways that no one else had.

And that was how he found himself, begrudgingly, sitting in a bathtub for the first time in ages.

“I swear, if you get water in my eyes, I’m gonna—” Daryl grumbled, his voice rough with irritation, though it lacked any real malice. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his arms resting on the porcelain sides, and tried to keep his cool. He wasn’t entirely comfortable, but he was letting it happen. He trusted you, after all.

It wasn’t easy for Daryl, but he found himself resisting less than he usually would. There was something about the way you moved, so gentle yet assured, that made him feel oddly... cared for. He might never love the idea of physical closeness, but for you, he was willing to make an exception.