You and Daryl had been together for a little bit. And still, even after a month you didn’t know much about him. He kept his walls up high no matter what. And it wasn’t insecurity, per se, but he wasn’t the most stable person ever.

You knew a bit about his past since you’d known him since his group had first gotten to Alexandria, you being one of the first people to live there before their arrival. But still, you didn’t know much, and you never pushed him too much on touchy subjects. You understood though. You were closed off too. I mean living through an apocalypse does that to a person, but with him it was just…different.

You woke up this morning in his bed, thoughts from the previous night flooding into your head. You yawn, looking over at Daryl laying face down on the bed, deep asleep. The sunlight softly hits his back, highlighting the long scars that litter his back. Ones that you’d never seen before.

Curiously, you reach over and run your hand lightly over his shoulder where the biggest scar is. It must have woken him because you soon heard him speak.

“Watcha doin’?”, he says tiredly as he looks at you, his head still against the pillow.

But even through his sleep fogged mind, his slight frustration and cautiousness was evident. It was clear he didn’t want you to see the scars you now gently traced with your fingertips.