Cherry

The thought gives him a rare moment of peace as his eyes fall to you, knelt behind a counter rummaging through picked over drawers. He likes going on runs with you because you’re quick and quiet, a no nonsense kind of gal. You’re also so fucking beautiful it makes his chest ache every time your eyes meet. Just like now as you lift your eyes to his and jump to your feet - a sudden heard of walkers pouring into the small independent pharmacy behind him, brining on a slew of grumbled profanity. They’ve caught you both off guard piling into the small building quickly as you pull Daryl into an even smaller supply closet and close the door behind you. He never considered himself claustrophobic but it suddenly feels like he’s suffocating and it has nothing to do with the tight space.

“S-sorry.” You whisper - your chests touching, standing so close he can feel your quick nervous breaths against his face. “H-how many did ya see?”

Before you can answer something angry slams against the door at your back bringing you into Daryl’s chest again with a choked yelp. “I’m sorry.” You repeat, placing a gentle palm to his chest as his entire body goes rigid. “H-how many?” You can feel his words vibrating against your hand as you let it fall to your side and take in a needed breath. “Maybe ten?”

Daryl grunts his response as a walker bangs against the door again, a wave of fear rolling through you as you turn to face the threat - idly sinking your back into Daryl’s chest. “We’ll be alright. Jus’ gotta wait it out.” His voice is so sure, almost soothing as he mutters the words against your ear, watching a shiver run through you as goosebumps prickle your smooth skin. “O-okay.”

An angry bang on the thin door sends you further back, taking the air from him lungs as you whisper another quiet sorry. Daryl gathers your hair to one side to rid it from his face, calloused fingers brushing against the nape of your neck - straightening your back as he clears his throat. Whatever’s on the other side of the supply closets door only grows angrier - snarling and slapping at the wood - it makes your heart hammer in your chest as you squirm against the man behind you.

“Stop squirmin’.” Daryl growls low in his throat, sending another shiver through you as you nod but refuse to apologize again. Behind you the archer is fighting for his life, holding his breath to keep from inhaling your scent - sweet but also warm and comforting like vanilla and honeysuckle warming in the sun. It’s doing things to his body that are out of his control. Just as your ass brushes against his now semi hard erection he grasps your hip and turns you so you’re facing each other but he’s closer to the door now, shielding you from whatever may burst through. “We’re gonna be alright.” He mutters, watching your doe eyes blink slowly as you try to convince yourself. “Maybe we should have fought our way out. I… I shouldn’t have trapped us in here.”

Daryl lifts his hand to your face, brushing his rough fingers along your jaw before sinking them into your hair. It’s an uncharacteristic gesture that’s oddly comforting to you both. “We’re gonna be alright.” He repeats, searching your eyes as his thumb brushes your cheek and your heavy breathing begins to slow.

You’ve known Daryl since the quarry, finding comfort in his brooding silence - you like going on runs with him because you can get in and get it done without the mind numbing chit chat. He doesn’t push or pry for your life story and appreciates that you do the same. You can both coexist in this fucked up world without any of the drama. Even if you’ve memorized every small detail he’s shared with you about his life before this as well as every dark fleck of navy that swims in his ocean eyes. You could describe them in perfect detail standing here in the darkness of this supply closet but that’s something you’ll take to the grave with you. Daryl doesn’t strike you as a man who wants to be lust after.

At least he didn’t, until this very moment - trapped in this small space with you - his familiar eyes hooded and stealing glances at your mouth. Another loud crash in the pharmacy brings a soft whimper from your throat as you idly grip the material of his shirt near his hip and he clears his throat again, unable to drop his hand as he runs the pad of his thumb over your parted lips. You marvel at him as he stands perfectly still while your body jerks with every loud bang then he’s pulling you closer to his chest to shield you from the noise. “…won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.”

You nod again forcing a smile that lights up the darkness and brings another low grumble from his throat. “I won’t let anything happen to you either.” You assure him, your smile turning playful as he rewards you with one of his own. You’re half his size and although you’re quick on your feet you know which one of you is the muscle in this situation.

Daryl allows himself a quick breath, filling his soul with flowery vanilla as you lift your eyes to his and his fingers tighten in your hair. He’s still focused on your lips, silently imagining feeling them against his as the door jerks open and light floods the small space causing you to pull him closer as you bury your face in the bend of his neck. “Come on! We gotta move move move move!” Abraham’s loud demanding voice and strong hands jerk you from Daryl’s embrace as he follows you out into the destroyed pharmacy and lifts his bow, covering your group as Glenn ushers you through the broken glass.

The four of you take off running as the walkers shuffle through the broken glass, your heart dropping when Daryl doesn’t follow. “Wait. We have to wait for him.”

“Daryl can handle himself little bit. We gotta fuckin’ move.”

Abraham’s grip on your arm is too tight to jerk it free as you stumble down the dirt path, relief whooshing from your lungs when Daryl finally emerges through the glass and meets your panicked eyes. The next few moments go by in a blur as the dead shuffle after you.

“I got ‘er.”