Do You Trust Me? :||: wingsandacrossbow
wingsandacrossbow
The candles from upstairs were the sort that smelled like some fancy sort of shit, all in glass jars, most hadnât even been lit before. They certainly werenât the sort that people burned for emergencies, but they would do just fine. He doubted theyâd take them once they moved on, too heavy. He dropped them all on the coffee table without preamble and looked over Bethâs finds.
Daryl was surprised at the offer. Heâd been scolded enough about the habit once certain people had gotten comfortable enough with him to say something. Not that he gave it much thought, worse things that would kill you these days.
Daryl snorted at her words but took the hard pack from her, surprised to find it was unopened. âAinât you that caused nothinâ,â he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. âCould use a fuckinâ cigarette about now though, thanks.â She had stressed him out, but not through any fault of her own, that had been his fault. Heâd dropped the ball and sheâd nearly paid for it. If it was the last thing he did, heâd make damn sure that she would never again pay the price for his mistakes.
Moving over to the couch, Beth sat down and tucked her knees up against her chest as she settled into the worn fabric. It had been a long time since theyâd just been able to sit and relax somewhere, the last place theyâd been was the Funeral Parlor and that didnât exactly end well for them. However, none of that mattered anymore because they were safer together than they were separated, especially until they found the others.
"Thought youâd appreciate the gesture" Beth replied with a small giggle, still curled into herself. As she watched Daryl light the cigarette, she finally felt herself breathe again. It felt like sheâd been holding it since the day she was taken, but now she was back with Daryl and she was safe. She knew Daryl would never let any harm come to her, and she also knew that he blamed himself for her getting abducted.
Looking down at her feet, Beth gripped her knees closer to her chest. âIt wasnât your fault, you knowâ she remarked quietly, her voice barely audible. âYou sent me away to protect me, and even if someone came along and took me, you still saved me from the herd.â Turning to look at him, she locked eyes with her favorite redneck. âNone of it matters anymore, you know that right? You know I donât blame you or anything?â











