He gave in to the temptation once. Hunted for a copy of Northanger Abbey in the city and almost got himself killed. Strangely, bookstores never seem fall victim to scavengers. He supposes people just stopped reading because no one can risk being distracted. Not that he ever has. It’s just that you do, and that means there must be some appeal to it that he missed, which was the sole reason why he stopped just short of the door and went back to grab Pride and Prejudice, too.

Read it in secret so you wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t go through with it. It was weirdly nice though, mainly because he imagined the surprise on your face when he’d impress you with his newly acclaimed knowledge on literature.

And surprised you were. You thought he was kidding at first, since Daryl hardly seemed the type to enjoy books. He didn’t have much time with hunting, being Rick’s second in command and constantly killing walkers on top of that. But he took some anyway, just because you liked to read.

“I can’t believe you actually went through with that! Daryl, that’s so sweet of you.”

He only gave a huff in response. There it was again. That smile. He turned away and pretended to be busy keeping watch of the treeline, mainly because he didn’t know what to say. No one had ever called him that. Sweet.

Also, he felt the warmth spread from his heart to his face, and didn’t really care for you to see his blush.

However, Daryl didn’t get rid of you that easily. Once you heard that he read one of your favorite books, naturally, you wanted to talk about it. Fuck, he should have anticipated that. You stubbornly stayed glued to his side for the whole evening. Not that he really minded.

“So how’d you like it?” Damn your expectant eyes. It was difficult, that’s what it was.

“Eh. Wasn’t bad.” He bit his lip. Was that really all he could come up with? For lack of something smarter to say, he just blurted out the next best thing. “That Darcy guy sure is a prick.”

To his suprise, you nodded frantically. “I completely agree! I mean, sure, he accepted Elizabeth and her family in the end, but that doesn’t mean he really changed. He’s still at least somewhat superficial.”

“Right, ‘s what I thought too.”

From that day on, you sook him out more often to talk about books. It was both a blessing and a curse. Spending time with you felt amazing, but he just couldn’t match your knowledge.

However, and that’s only one more reason to like you, you never seemed to mind. On the contrary, you gave him more recommendations, even went out of your way to suggest novels that you thought would suit his tastes. He pretended to look for them, stupid Hemingway or whatever it was whenever he came upon a bookstore or library during runs, but really he just wanted to read the books that you called your favorites.

It was a good way to learn more about you without invading your space. At least in theory, ‘cause whenever Daryl read a story you told him you’d read as well he felt like he was intruding into your heart or something. Like reading some sort of diary. He imagined what you thought of certain wordings when you stumbled upon them all this time ago, wondered if you had been able to foresee plot twists or which character you liked most.

His favorite thing about reading was talking to you about the books afterwards. Finally, you could answer all those questions even if he didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

Sometimes your opinions suprised him. For instance, he had been absolutely sure that you lied about liking Metamorphosis because you were scared of bugs. Yet, you insisted that it was one of your all time favorites. Your extensive knowledge however never failed to blow him away. Like when you told him that Gregor Samsa didn’t really turn into an insect, that it was just a metaphore. Well, probably. Apparently you never know with Kafka. At least that explained how the book earned it’s place in your inner bookshelf, ‘cause he swore there was no way in hell you would have liked it if there had been real bugs involved.

𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛ˊ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒. If anything, it got him even more hooked on doing nice things for you. Acts of service, if you wanted. Not that he loved you. No, that was no it. He just thought you were a decent person. A little ditzy — it was a miracle how you survived this long, actually — but he didn’t mind. If anything, he thought it was cute. No, wait — not in that way. Not cute. It could get you killed someday, which was just another one of his reasons for going out of his way to protect you. You fucking needed it. Or did he just need you? That happy smile whenever he snuck you a treat?

Well, it didn’t matter anyway because your deserved way better than him. Daryl didn’t even know how he got this infatuated. Honestly, it was infuriating. He had always been alone and now… he constantly yearned for your company. Scared him a little bit. Not you, you weren’t scary — anything but, most of the time — but how close you were able to get. How close he allowed you to be.

No, scratch that. He was terrified because he didn’t only enjoy your presence but also wanted you close and even closer. He liked it when you talked his ear off about stupid old made-up stories and dead authors or how it was a shame that the apocalypse aquired killing squirrels to survive (because they were so adorable), and he liked it when he was able to exceed your expectations.

Sure, it stung a little every time your eyes widened when he revealed yet another present he had brought back to the camp. He knew he wasn’t anything but an uneducated redneck in your eyes but he tried, okay? Though he wasn’t sure why. Not like there was any possibility of winning you over, and he wasn’t cut out for these type of relationships anyway.

Little did he know, the thoughts running through your head didn't even come close to that. Surprised, that you were, but only because no one had ever done such sweet things for you. It made you imagine what it would be like if he did all those things because he liked you and not because you barely held your own. Daryl probably thought you were an absolute apocalypse failure and annoying on top of that, pestering him with book talk. God… you’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

Meanwhile, Daryl held onto every ounce of gratitude that you bestowed upon him. He felt blessed, knew deep down that there was no way this would last longer than a couple of months anyway. If everything went back to normal tomorrow, you probably wouldn’t spare him a second glance and leave, just like all the others.

He wouldn’t pretend that he was more than a means to survival for any of them. It would only hurt once they came upon something better and left him. He figured he’d get over it eventually, go back to being on his own like back when he left his fathers house. Merle wasn’t out there to lend him a helping hand anymore, but he didn’t need that, either. He had learned to get by on his own, and that was alright. It was just how things were, how they had always been.

𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. For now, he supposed he’d just count himself lucky. Enjoy it while it lasted. ‘Cause right now, you needed him in some twisted way. Even if it was only because he wasn’t scared of anything, neither walkers nor bugs, or because he was tough enough to kill a squirrel so the group wouldn’t starve.

He’d just go on doing what he always did… Telling you he caught a hare today — not that it was better (he could bet you were a vegetarian before the outbreak, too sympathetic for your own good), but they were at least a few places lower than squirrels on your list of favorite animals that he knew by heart by now. Once it was skinned, you couldn’t make out the difference anyway.

As for books, the next one that he’d look for was Little Women. You’d told him that you’d read it when you were only nine. Figures, you probably came out of the womb a nerd. He wonders what you were like as a child.

Part of him hopes it’s one of those girly books that have love stories in them. He likes listening to you talk about those especially, even though the characters that make you swoon aren’t anything like him. It’s stupid, but he likes pretending that he could be. Even if it’s only for a second. Imagines it being him who changes for you like Mr. Darcy did for Elizabeth, only that he would do a better job, of course, so you would never ever call him superficial.

Maybe Daryl was only telling himself that you needed him. If he was being honest with himself, you probably didn’t. Anyone could do these things. It wasn’t anything special.

It’s just like with the romance books — he likes pretending. It makes him feel a little bit better about himself. Makes him feel useful.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝘩𝑖𝑚, 𝘩𝑒’𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠.

Now, you could understand it a little bit better. The sun was beating down on the RV, heat making it almost unbearable to stay out in the open. Luckily, it would get colder soon.

It wasn’t too bad sitting here in company. From what you could gather, Dale had an amazing taste in books. Came with 65 years of reading, probably. He seemed happy that you could match his impressive literary knowledge, allowing for a nice talk.

It really wasn’t so bad up here if you had company.

It made you think about what it would be like to keep watch with Daryl.

The redneck had occupied your thoughts for a while. Since his dedication in the hunt for Sophia, to be exact. He was incredible at tracking, and still, it didn’t amount to the end everyone had wished for Carol.

Of course, Carol was devastated. Pretty much everyone was. The search had been a reason to keep going, even though deep down, it was clear to you all that you had been chasing a shadow. Now that it was over, morale was at an all time low. Some doubted Rick’s leading abilities, and tension arose within the group.

It made sense that everone was affected. However, no one seemed to see the effect that this failure had on Daryl. Either that, or they simply didn’t want to. He made it easy for them to ignore him, avoiding the group in general. Kept himself holed up in his one man tent further away from the rest of the group. And that after he took a bullet, too.

You’d think he’d admit his vulnerability and accept help, but since the second he was allowed to get up after the wound was tended too, he hadn’t been back. Andrea had come to apologize, Lori had brought him food, even Carol had come by, but none of them had managed to get more than a few words out of the man.

While you understood that he was frustrated and angry at himself, you were determined to coax him out of his hardened shell.

How? Well, you had a reason now.

That was at least what you told yourself as you made your way to his tent.

Your dedication diminished with every step you took. Standing directly in front of it, you weren’t even sure if you should go inside anymore. Maybe you were overstepping. Maybe he would throw you out and feel even worse after you had talked to him.

About to turn around and forget about the whole thing, you flinched when you heard rustling inside of the tent and finally, its zipper being pulled down.

You were met with the sight of Daryl, resting on his cot inside the tent. He lowered his arm and raised a brow, seemingly surprised at the sight of you.

“What d’ya want? I can hear ya shufflin’ 'round, y’know. Didn’t shoot me, ain’t got nothin’ ta apologize for.”

You straightened, looking a little sheepish as you shook your head.

“I know. Look, I was gonna leave, but— I thought you could use a distraction. Must be boring being stuck here all day.”

He hummed. “S’pose.”

That wasn’t a direct rejection, so you pulled yourself together and kneeled down at the tent’s entrance. Threw him an experimental smile, not hesistant, but not confident either.

“Right. That’s why I wanted to give you this. There isn’t exactly much else to do in here.”

You held out your hand, offering him the book.

He eyed it, then glanced up at you. Seemed wary, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture. “A book?”

You nodded. “What, never seen one before?”

It was supposed to sound light-hearted, ease the tension between the two of you, but with your intimidated, wavering voice, it probably did a poor job. You cringed internally, cursing yourself for even trying to start a conversation with him. He probably felt bothered by you, peace disturbed and wished you would just leave already so he could—

Oh. Your thoughts went quiet when he reached out and took it, sitting up a little straighter on his dirty blanket. The surpressed wince didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were about to ask him if he was okay, but he was faster.

“That Dale’s?”

A meek nod. “Yeah.” Unsure of what to add to this, you stayed quiet, eyes flickering up to his face.

Daryl huffed, flipping through the pages. Then looked at you. You were ready to be told off for intruding at last, but it was his turn to surprise you.

“What, no pictures?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d thought you had made out the hint of a smirk around his lips, but it was gone too quickly for you to be sure.

Your face fell, caught off guard. “You— you can’t read?” Shock must have been written all over your face judging by the roll of his eyes.

“Nah”, he scoffed, “I can read alrigh', girl. Just ain’t a fan.” He scratched his neck, eyes falling down to the book in his hands.

A faint blush spread on your cheeks. Of course he could, what were you thinking. This didn’t have to be so awkward but of course you’d go and call him an analphabet, for god’s sake…

You cleared your throat, “Oh. Sorry. I mean, I have only read half of it so far, but Glenn said it wasn’t half bad. Maybe better than being all alone with your thoughts? I’ll take it back to Dale, if you want to, I mean—"

He shook his head, interrupting your nervous babbling.

“Don’t gotta take it back”, he huffed. Curt and to the point, as always. His rough voice didn’t fail to make you feel a little silly, intimidated by the one man that had protected you for months now. And the others, of course. Not you especially.

“Sure. Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Embarrassed, you began getting up when his head snapped up, following your movement.

Daryl frowned, brows pulled together tightly. “Wha', ya ain’t gonna read it to me?” He seemed a little offended if anything, making you stop in your tracks and falter.

“Huh? You want me to stay?” Now it was your turn to be confused. However, he ended that by patting down a spot in the tent next to him.

A shrug, “Ya said ya were only halfway through. Course I ain’t gonna take it from ya now. Ya could be dead tomorrow, fer all I know. Might as well finish that damn story.” His voice didn’t leave much space for discussion.

You were strangely touched. He payed attention to every word you were saying, apparently. Not only did he refrain from throwing you out, he wanted you further inside the tent.

Your braced yourself, smiling at him. “Oh, uh, sure. I’ll read to you.”

As you crawled inside the tent, he reached for the zipper to close the opening. You made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the small room, leaving space between you and him. Didn’t want to overstay your welcome or make him feel uncomfortable. After all, it was rare for Daryl to allow others near him at all, always the closed off hunter. Actually, you hadn't heard him talk this much in weeks.

You counted yourself lucky. Must have caught him at a good time, then.

“Okay, I’ll start with chapter one.”

“Nah, just go on from where ya left off.”

“Are you sure? You won’t understand the story if—"

“Don’t care.”

“Well, if you insist.”

And so you began reading, stealing the occasional glance at him, spread out on his blanket, arms under his head. He was staring at the tents ceiling, blue eyes trained on the worn fabric. His focus however was on you and you only. He listened to your gentle voice, losing himelf solely in the sound instead of the story. Fuck, he could care less for the story.

No, he only cared about the way the words formed in your throat, flowing out of your lips. The soft breathing, how it hitched when you reached an exciting passage. The small noise of frustration when you stumbled over a sentence and had to begin anew…

If only you knew how much he liked your presence.

Honestly, if someone had asked him anything about the content of the novel by the point you said goodnight and left his tent to return to yours, he would have been at a loss. Didn’t remember a thing about the characters, but all about the way you had invented distinctly unique voices for each of them.

That book may have not been the best, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t grateful for every single chapter.

𝐼'𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑠! 𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 🤍 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

sleepy!hitoshi who once fell asleep on your shoulder without meaning to. but he was so tired and your breathing so calming... when he apologizes afterwards, you tell him that you don't mind. you're friends, after all!

sleepy!hitoshi develops a habit of seeking you out when he has to take a nap. the common room, your dorm, wherever. he used to have difficulties falling asleep if not under special circumstances (like his bed, when the room was dark and completely quiet). now, his racing mind becomes all soft and as soon as you're present.

sleepy!hitoshi who sometimes purrs at you in his sleep. one time, after studying together in your dorm and talking for a while, he got tired and you let him put his head in your lap to rest. he was already almost asleep, on the brink of entering dreamland, but then you began running your fingers through his hair. he has never felt this comfortable! you thought it was cute, how he purred like a happy cat. didn't tell him when he woke up an hour later, lest he get embarrassed.

sleepy!hitoshi who is grateful that you don't find it weird of him to nap in your presence. his sleeping schedule is so disturbed that he can really use the extra energy, and nothing fills up his social battery like this.

sleepy!hitoshi who isn't sleepy in the sense that he doesn't take notice of the outside world. it's his default state — he manages. in fact, he's very observant. he notices everything about you, especially. probably because he pays it special attention.

sleepy!hitoshi who doesn't hesitate to have you join his nap when you're overworking yourself. aizawa had announced a test for next week. you didn't even need to worry about it, in his opinion, since you were very well prepared and one of the best students of class 1A. you still did, sitting at your desk the whole afternoon, trying to fill your head with knowledge you'd already stored. he'd been watching you from his favorite spot on your bed for a while now. when you absentmindedly massage your neck to relieve the pressure that had accumulated while you tensed up over this stupid test, he decides it's enough.

sleepy!hitoshi who gets up and takes the pen out of your hands, giving you a look. you protest at first, but he insists that no matter how much more you study, you won't get any better because you're already best. he gently reminds you of your achievements and claims that rest is just as important so the knowledge will settle. you can't argue with that and let him pull you into your bed.

sleepy!hitoshi who covers the two of you with your favorite blanket, keeping his distance to ensure that you're comfortable (even though the bed is way to small for two people).

sleepy!hitoshi who is a little relieved when you paw at his shoulder, signaling for him to come closer. he would have been perfectly fine with just watching over you, paying the price of a stiff neck tomorrow if it meant you could get some well earned rest — but this is better.

sleepy!hitoshi who holds you close to him, letting you bury your face in his worn out sweatshirt (your favorite of his) and tries to not fall asleep instantly but wait for you to do so first.

sleepy!hitoshi who is happy he did, because sleepy you is very cute. you're snoring faintly, holding onto his arm unconsciously as if you're scared he'll leave. he won't. instead, he presses a gentle kiss on the top of your head. pulls you a little closer and then surrenders to sleep as well.

sleepy!hitoshi who thinks sleeping in each others presence is one of the most intimate things in the world. he feels so comfortable with you, comfortable enough to do this and apparently, it's the same for you.

sleepy!hitoshi who loves falling asleep next to you... because he always dreams of you when he does.

Two-Bit always valued loyalty more than love. It made sense, since loyalty was a proof of appreciation, whereas love was a mere emotion, no promise, no real action. His father had told him that he loved him, yet he had left.

Of course, he didn't mind feelings. He liked how it felt when you giggled at his jokes, or how his heart jumped when you fell asleep with your head resting against his shoulder at the movie theater.

Maybe, though, he came to think, maybe love and loyalty can be the same thing after all. And maybe tears can have the same effect as laughter when they come from the right person.

He always knew that he liked you. You just got him like nobody else. Actually, he had a feeling that you knew when he was being funny naturally and when he forced himself to be.

The day you first cried in front of him was they day he knew he loved you, too. It had been after a rumble, at the Curtis brother’s household. They usually went there to tend to their wounds. Sure, he could have gone home… but he just couldn't take his mother and sister seeing him like this. It made him feel guilty.

However, he didn't think you’d be waiting for them at the house. Otherwise, he might have gone somewhere else entirely. Because truthfully, the face you made when you saw him hurt was just as bad.

He had a big gash on his forehead and a blue eye. Even though the others looked just as bad if not even more roughed up, he felt strangely embarrassed when you fawned over him. You didn't waste any time, ushering him to sit and getting a rag to dab the blood from his face.

Only when that was taken care of did you take a moment to breathe. Shakily, he noticed alarmed. He watched as you let yourself fall onto the couch next to him. The room was filled with chatter, everyone was high on adrenaline.

Not him. Not anymore. His heart sank as your shoulders began to shake silently and you avoided his eyes.

“Do I look that scary?” He attempted to brighten the mood, body tense. His face betrayed him, brows pinched together in worry.

You attempted to smile at that, but it looked off. “No. Sorry, I just… I don't like it when you’re hurt.”

Your voice broke, and a tear rolled down your cheek. He felt awful. God, he hated it when you were sad. Usually, your optimism held everyone together.

He didn't know what to say. So instead of pondering on it, he pulled you into his arms.

It was a weird hug, twisted, because you sat right next to him, but very comforting. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of your body against his.

After a while, you looked up at him. And your smile was bright as ever, not dimmed even though your eyes were still glossy from tears.

Clearing your throat, you sat up a little straighter, and he immediately mourned the lack of distance. “Your eye is swelling closed. Did you know that?”

“Does it look stupid?”

“No.”

He raised a brow.

“…Yes.” You smiled bashfully, and he grinned.

“Well, good thing I’ve still got my charm, right?”

You laughed, hiding your face in his shoulder. God, this girl... His heart jumped. You were gonna be the death of him. Because truthfully, he'd take as many hits as he could if it meant that he could make you laugh. That's probably messed up, but still...

He didn't care about the rumble anymore. They'd won, but this — you smiling into his shirt, body melting against his — this was the greater victory.

Your crying had initially made him feel bad, but only because he didn't want you to be upset. Now, it didn't make him feel uncomfortable at all, no, not like he'd tought, not like he'd expected with how tense and avoidant he got in emotional situations. No, with you... Strangely, he felt cared for.