It wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

But his voice had risen; sharper than it ever had with you. The kind of sharp that cuts through bone and air and the quiet trust you’d been building, slow and steady, like he was some stray dog you were coaxing in from the cold.

“You think bein’ sweet’s enough?” Daryl snapped, eyes narrowed, frustration carved into every word. “You think plantin’ fuckin’ tomatoes and makin’ pie is gonna keep you alive when this place falls apart?”

You blinked like you’d been slapped. You hadn’t even said anything, not yet. You’d just smiled, warm and soft, and handed him a cloth to wipe his hands... a stupid, gentle gesture.

His chest rose and fell, heavy. “This world don’t care how kind you are.” Truth was, Daryl was terrified he’d lose you.