Before the apocalypse started, you and Daryl had a thing—a little fling, if anything. The two of you would have your nights together before you left in the morning, without a trace of even being there in his bed.

It was a surprise to both of you when you ended up at the same camp in Atlanta. Although you stayed away from each other, acting as if the other didn’t exist, just as it was before the turn. Despite the distance between you two, it didn’t stop the occasional sneaking off to the woods together to waste time and find a distraction. But right after that, you were back to acting as if the other didn’t exist.

When the group arrived at the CDC, you were ecstatic, loving the hot water and food immediately. After dinner with the group, you were on your way to your room when you passed a drunk Daryl.

“My room. Later tonight.” You said quietly as you passed Daryl, not even glancing at him, but you did catch his slight nod out of the corner of your eye.

Later that night, you lay in bed on your side, watching the clock on the wall, so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear the sound of the door opening and closing until you felt the bed dip beside you. You didn’t need to look back to see who it was; you already knew just by the smell of them. The person lay down next to you before they wrapped their arms around you.

“Love you. Love you. Love you. Love you.” Daryl’s gruff voice said between the kisses he placed down your neck, the smell of alcohol evident on his breath.