You and him had your flaws. He saw what he didn't want in you. That's how you worked with eachother—you weren't attached, one heart lonelier than the other.

So he avoided you. And you kept giving him reasons to do so.

Truth was, provocation had never felt so sweet for both of you.

Ever since you met Hershel and the girls, sharing the same very space as him was an impossible task. If you didn't find something to argue about, he certainly would.

So Daryl made sure he settled somewhere farther away from the rest of the group, using the same lame excuse of his need for personal space. You did your best not to approach him there. You didn't want to.

But eventually, that had to end.

Daryl was fixing his crossbow, sitting on a log, minding his business next to burnt branches. He heard footsteps approaching, but as he turned around and his eyes landed on you, he couldn't help but grunt in annoyance.

"What?" he muttered rather harshly, returning his attention to the bow.