To you, the Greene farm felt like the calm in the storm. Despite everything going wrong in the world, it was a beautiful house, beautiful land. It felt like the apocalypse disappeared when you gazed out at the fields of grass. Empty of walkers.

You weren't sure if Daryl felt the same about that. You were almost sure he didn't in the slightest. He seemed like the type of man to never experience the feeling of calm ever.

But you were so curious about him. You always tried to help him out, to relieve stress from him so that maybe he could be calm for a second.

It was cloudy out today, a rare thing during a Georgia summer. Most people in your group were in their tents or with the Greene family in their house. You peeked out the kitchen window, noticing Daryl sitting on the same tree stump he was always on.

He looked like he was sharpening knives, you left the house, walking across the field over to him. You sat down beside him on the ground, having a pretty one-sided conversation when you started to feel droplets on your skin until it was fully raining.

You looked up at the sky, wet hair sticking to your face, and smiled. You heard Daryl scoff and look over at you, his clothes starting to drench.

"Wha's s'funny?" He grunted in his southern accent.