You never thought that you could go out in the evening without worrying about being attacked by something hidden in the dark. Since you were in Alexandria, you never went out at night, except to go to Aiden, and yet you still hadn’t realized the tranquility of this place. You inhaled the evening air as you left the house, toward the house Deanna had assigned to Rick. In the end, the former sheriff had considered the idea of ​​staying, even though he definitely wanted to ask something about Alexandria and its inhabitants before making the final decision. Instead, you wanted them to tell you what they have been experiencing in the last few months, about the creepy place that is called Terminus, and why Abraham’s group decided to stay with you. You wanted to know everything about Beth and Tyreese, how they died and why.

“Hey.”

As you walked around thoughtfully, a deep and familiar voice surprised you. It warmed your heart to know that, despite everything, he was fine. “Hey, Daryl.” He sat on the porch steps of one of the empty houses.

“Are ya goin’ to Rick?”, he asked.

You shrugged with your shoulders. “At least I thought about it, there are many things I would like to talk about.”

He nodded, though he was not very interested in your words. “Okay.”

You stood together and looked at each other silently. The herd that separated you in the forest at that time didn’t give you time to build a real friendship, now you were here, unable to interact fluently. You looked at him, tilting your head, your hands in your pockets, and he was trying to avoid your eyes. He always seemed to be so far away with his thoughts. Almost as if nothing at all was important to him. But was that really the case? You bit your lip. “Have you already decided?”, you asked to break the deafening silence.

“They brought me here.” He pointed to the house behind him without looking away from his crossbow.

“And have you seen how it is inside?”

Finally he looked up and gave you a questioning look. “Kitchen, living room… ‘nd a bathroom?”, he answered questioningly. You shook your head and laughed. “You hardly went through the door, did you?”

“Can ya’ explain what it takes to know what’s in it? It’s just a fuckin’ house.”

“Aren’t you curious?”, you asked, still smiling.

“No.”

“Not at all? Come on, get up!”, you said, practically pulling him up the stairs and forcing him to get up. The man followed you, but decidedly reluctant. Once inside, you behaved like a tour guide. “On the left is the living room, with a sofa, two armchairs and a fireplace, on the right side, the kitchen, with the island!” Daryl did not seem to be as excited as you. He shrugged, slightly confused. “'Nd?”

“Here is a cupboard and up the stairs is so much more! Come on, come and see it!”, you invited him. Daryl followed you unconvinced and always careful. The crossbow was firmly anchored to his shoulder.

“You don’t need that.”, yoy said, pointing to the weapon. “I assure you.”, you added as you both walked up the stairs. “This place is really as it seems, there are no dangers in Alexandria.”

He looked at you for a few seconds, undecided what he should do. Then, following your advice, he put the crossbow on the sofa and decided to follow you upstairs again.

“On the top right are the rooms, did you see the beds? They’re huge!”, you said with particular emphasis. “By the way… Did they leave you alone?”

Daryl nods silently. You shrugged and pointed to the last room. The most important, the one in which you spent more hours than ever before since your arrival: the bathroom.

“Look at this room, Daryl, it’s so big you can even sleep in it!”

“’S just a bathroom, Y/N.”

“Indeed…”, you answered.

“Learned to live without it.”

“Yeah, I noticed it, but tonight you could enjoy it like you’ve never done in your life, don’t you want a hot bath?”

“No.”, he replied succinctly. You sighed. “I expected this answer.” But then you get the stroke of genius. You hit your forehead with your palm, too enthusiastic about your new idea. “I have an idea!”, you said with a big smile. “I will prepare it!” You interrupted him before he could argue and approached the tub. “You will thank me, you will see.”

“Forget it.”

“Too late.”, you said as you started to fill the tub with hot water. “I’ll just wash your hair.”

Daryl was obviously embarrassed by your behavior, he looked around and looks for a way out. “Why, that’s not necessary.”, he said, eyeing you with his eyes.

“Because, no offense, you need it.”, you answered, wrinkling your nose.

“No, I want to know why ya’ do it.”, he explained, rubbing the stubble on his chin. You thought for a moment and searched for the right words. “Ever since I’ve known you, you haven’t even rested for a second, always on alert, always ready for all eventualities, ready to protect us from any damn danger, now there’s no need, and it’s not a trap.”

Daryl stared at you for a time that seemed endless. Then he spoke. “Do I have a chance to retire?”, he asked resignedly. You opened yourself smiling, glad that he gave in. “Not really.”

He looked around with his face with a disheveled expression. The tub was now filled with the water. Then he turned to you. “Do ya’ have to stay 'nd watch me while I undress?”, he asked sarcastically. Your cheeks flamed safely to this sentence, and so you raised your hands in surrender and squinted to the door. “I don’t even think about it, call me when you’re done.”

After a few minutes, Daryl called you back in a flat, kinda sad voice. Until the last moment, you thought he was trying to escape from the window. You were almost surprised that he didn’t do it. The hot steam that saturated the room condensed on your face and neck, in contact with fresh skin. You closed the door behind you and turned to Daryl. “I don’t mean to torture you, you know, I just want to wash your hair.”

“Okay…” Daryl was completely submerged in the foaming water, except for the arms resting on the edge of the tub. You sat cross-legged in the square behind the headrest, on which the shampoos normally rest, and scratched your fingers to begin. Daryl’s hair was still dry, so you told him: “You should lean forward slightly so I can wet your head with the water.” Daryl obeyed. “You could dive first instead of snorting…” When you saw his back, you were paralyzed and the words stuck in your throat. His skin, covered with shimmering little drops, told you of a past, of abuse and violence: The tattoo of a winged demon occupying the right side of the back is surrounded by deep patches on the back, long and thin scars, which have darkened over the years draw the shape of his muscles all over his back. Anger and pain pierced you and understood his angry look and finally, why he has such mistrust of people.

“What the hell yer waitin’ for?”, he asked abruptly. His voice shook you and brought you back to reality. “I’m sorry, I was waiting for the water to reach the right temperature.”, you said. He knows what you saw, but he said nothing. Maybe because he preferred a quick lie instead of thousand questions.

“When did you last wash them?”, you asked.

“Don’t remember.”, he replied dryly.

“You’re a desperate case.”, you chuckled to ease the mood. “I’m sorry, but you have to make an effort to endure me.”

“I practiced 'n the two weeks we spen’ 'lone.”, he said seriously.

“I forgot how nice I was.”, you reply, pulling on his hair.

“Shit! Fuck you!”

“Didn’t you say that you practiced?”, you asked with a hint of malice in your voice. He did not answer and let you work in peace. Slowly his indomitable hair unraveled. “How are you feeling?”, you asked after a few minutes of silence. Daryl took a deep breath and then answered. “I never thought I’d look like a damn normal guy.”

You started to doubt the idea that you thought you needed to help him. “How grumpy you are! Just close your eyes.”, you said. “How can you relax, if you just stare at the ceiling?”

The man lowered his eyelids without answering. You continued your massage as gently as possible.

“Yer good.”, he said in a slightly hoarse voice. Your cheeks burned. You swallowed and condemned the temperature in the room, which had now risen almost to the level of a sauna. “Wow, a compliment from Daryl Dixon, who expected that?”, you said, trying to hide the embarrassment. You placed the soaped hands on his shoulders and invited him to bend over again to wash off the shampoo. Everything in religious silence, focused on Daryl’s regular breathing. He opened his eyes. The clear blue of the iris revealed a calm and relaxed expression that the voice denies undeniably. “Thought ya’ would never finish.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”, you provoked with a smile as you got up from your position. His face flashed in visible embarrassment. You kept talking and pretended not to notice. “See you downstairs.”, you said, walking out of the room. When you reached the door, his voice surprised you again. He mumbled a “Thank ya’.”, almost imperceptibly. You smiled to yourself and pretended that you had not heard anything and silently left the room. He reached you after a few minutes in the living room and still had damp hair that partially covered his face and retraced his extremely wild character. He sat down on the couch next to you and you looked at him amused, while in an obvious discomfort he does not seem to know how to behave. “What’s goin’ on?”, he asked suspiciously.

“Nothing.”, you said, getting up. “I don’t want to bother you anymore, you’ve had enough of me tonight.”

He did not answer and looked elsewhere. “Stay.”

You turned to him, convinced that you did not understand him. “What?”

Now he looked at you confused and repeated in a low voice: “Stay.”

His request amazed you. You were so surprised that you did not know what you should do. Not convinced, you went back to him and sat down. Daryl took a deep breath, then he spoke. “When ya’ stopped leavin’ hints, I thought yer dead.”

“But I’m not, I’m alive.”

“What happened to ya’?”

“A series of unforeseen events prevented me from continuing to leave the messages…”

“Y/N…” His tone seemed reproachful, and you moved away from him, fleeing from his gaze. “I don’t want to talk about that.” Daryl got up and followed you into the kitchen, grabbing your arm and forcing you to to turn to him. “Rick told me 'bout the group. Did they hurt ya’?”

You didn’t want to tell him what had happened. Even bringing back those memories reminded you of an emotional torture. You were terribly ashamed to talk to him about what they did to you, almost as if it was all your own fault. You felt tears moisten your eyes and looked up.

“No…”, Daryl whispered. He shook his head and walked around in the living room. He took a deep breath and as he exhaled his anger, he kicked the couch hard, then knelt on the floor.

“Daryl?”

The man got up and, with blind anger, grabbed a kitchen stool and threw him into the hall, breaking a vase and chair.

“Daryl!”, you repeated, screaming. He did not seem to hear you, so you approached him, and when you took the risk you hugged him. You put your arms around his neck, almost more to calm his anger than to show your affection, and you hid your face in his neck. “I’m fine…”, you whispered.

“If I had been with ya’, nothin’ would’ve happened to ya’!”

“Or maybe it would have been a lot worse…”, you replied, inhaling the scent of shampoo. You both remained silent and focused on his accelerated breathing, which slowly returned to normal. Only when the anger had completely left him, he talked again: “Did ya’ mean it when ya’ wrote that sentence on one of the last messages?”

“What?”, you asked.

“Was I really yer best travel companion, despite all the bad things I’ve told ya’?”

“With all my strength, my will, my power and courage, I survived, because of you.”, you said, looking him in the eye.

“Ya’ did it all by yerself.”, he replied, breaking the hug completely and sitting down on the sofa. You showed him the tracks of the chains that looked months later as if they still encircled your wrists. “I was dreaming that you said I should run away and suggest how it’s done, not Rick, not Michonne, I was dreaming of you…”, you hesitated. “That I live is only your merit.”

At this point, Daryl did something completely unexpected. He got up, took your face in his hands and kissed you. Your face went up in flames, but the contact with his fresh and trembling hands lowered the temperature and calmed your heartbeat. Daryl slowly moved away and looked at you briefly, then immediately fixed his eyes on the floor. You smiled, understanding the tremendous effort he made to express a feeling different from anger and indifference, and you embraced him.

“Wait.”, he whispered, stopping your hands. He keeps staring at you, unsure what to do.

“Did you want me to stay, now I’m here, and I have no intention of leaving…”, you said harshly. Finally he gave a sign of life: He swallowed and took a step towards you. He doesn’t look you in the eye, he stared at your body, which was illuminated by the light of the lamp on the bedside table.

“Stay calm.”, he ordered.

“Okay…”, you answered with a nervous laugh. He stroked your skin with his fingertips with concentrated expression. From your cheekbones he followed the line of the neck, between the breasts, to the ribs and then to the hip; “Can I?”, he asked in a whisper without looking up.

“Sure…”, you whispered. He unbuttoned your pants, pulled them down gently, and took the shirt you laid on the bed and helped your gently to put it on. Then he let you do the same with him. You took off his shirt and looked at his muscular torso full of scars. You moved behind his back and kissed the scars, making him twitch every time your lips rested on his skin. Shortly after, you took him by the hand and invited him to lie down with you under the covers. You leaned against his muscular body and rested your head on his chest, shaking off the accelerated heartbeat. His fingers drew small circles on your skin, first at the base of the neck, then between the shoulder blades, and you completely relaxed; With his other hand he clung to your side, in between he tightened his grip and made sure that you wouldn’t run away. You clung to his body to show him you would never leave again.

“I missed you so much…”, you whispered.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead, just like in the dream that you had in the camp and pulled you even closer to him.

“Same. But that’ll never happen again. Promise…”