The sun had just started to dip behind the trees when Daryl returned to camp, crossbow slung across his back, mud streaked up his boots. He was tired, hungry, and more than anything, he just wanted to see you.

And he did.

You were by the fire, laughing softly, head tilted toward someone who wasn’t him—one of the newer guys from Hilltop, all smiles and easy charm. He handed you a canteen, said something that made you grin, and Daryl felt something tighten in his chest.

He didn’t like that.

He tried to brush it off, kept walking past without a word, jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the ground. But he couldn’t shake the way your laugh had sounded. Light. Relaxed. Like you belonged there with that guy.

The same way Daryl wished you’d belong with him.

Later, as night settled in and the fire burned low, you found Daryl sharpening his bolts by the shed. His back was stiff, his movements just a little more aggressive than usual.

“You okay?” you asked, stepping closer.

“M’fine,” he muttered, not looking up.

You hesitated. “You sure? You’ve been kinda… off since you got back.”

Daryl exhaled sharply through his nose. “You looked real cozy with that guy earlier.”

You blinked, surprised. “Mark? He was just telling me about the time he accidentally set a chicken coop on fire. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Daryl finally looked at you then—really looked. “Felt like a big deal.”

There it was. The thing he’d been choking down for weeks now. You saw it in the tension in his jaw, in the flicker of something raw in his eyes.

“I don’t care if you’re talkin’ to people,” he said, voice low, rough. “But… I ain’t good with watchin’ someone else make you laugh like that. Not when it’s the only thing I look forward to most days.”

Your breath caught. “Daryl…”

“I ain’t askin’ for much,” he said, looking away. “Just… needed you to know. That it matters to me. You matter.”

Silence fell between you for a long moment. Then, slowly, you stepped forward, taking the bolt from his hand and setting it aside.

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your fingers against his. “Because you matter to me, too.”

Daryl stared at your joined hands, then finally met your gaze—so much softness and relief behind that quiet intensity. He didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to.

He just pulled you into him, gently, protectively, like he’d been waiting a long time to do it.