The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

sixtyfour.

I pull the vehicle up to the gate, honking the horn to announce my arrival. I close my eyes, as my hand finds Abraham's dog tags wrapped around my neck. I feel a stray tear escape from behind my eyes. I fucking miss you and Kelly so much, Red.

I'm standing at the oven, cooking eggs, pancakes, and bacon for breakfast. I'm still in one of Daryl's shirts that I had fallen asleep in and one of my own shorts. My messy hair kisses my shoulder. I yawn, reaching for my coffee. I'm on my second cup of the morning. I'm preparing for my run with Daryl and our roommate today. It should be simple, as I got a good feeling about today.

Daryl drags me into his arms, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Good mornin', Blue. Smells good." He grumbles.

I smile, setting the fork down. I spin around in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes, "sorry, I still refuse to make squirrel, redneck. We got good enough food here." For now. He brings his face down to mine. I smirk against his mouth before his lips crashes against mine. This man is fucking intoxicating. He chuckles darkly against my mouth.

"Get a room, love birds." Kelly groans. The door closes behind him. My head rests on my boyfriend's chest, hiding the blush that's dancing along my cheeks. Daryl's chest rumbles against my face as he laughs at my reaction. Kelly's timing is always impeccable. He's been crashing our house during mealtimes. I keep telling him that he's biased and that he should try Carol's cooking, though, I'm likely to lose him to her.

Maybe it's a good thing he likes to hang around. He and Daryl enjoy spending time together. Daryl needs that in his life. He doesn't deserve to fight for his life every day he draws breath between his lungs. He once told me he never felt like he had a purpose or a place where he feels like he fits in. But now he does, and he belongs with our merry band of survivors. I remind him every chance I get that we fit together like a puzzle piece that I've been missing my whole life while he shares with me that he feels like I'm his home.

"I agree with Kelly there." Abraham's booming voice fills the air. "I already had to hear ya two most of the night. Fucking rabbits, man."

"Alright. Alright." I pull away from Daryl. I gesture to the plates, asking him to set the table. "Breakfast is almost done! Everyone, sit the hell down." When did I become a den mother for some of these survivors? I smirk at the thought. I never considered myself as much until this moment. Sometimes, even Carl comes over, wanting to eat my cooking instead of his fathers. I don't blame the kid.

"Oh, bacon, cheesy eggs, and pancakes?" Kelly peers over my shoulder, licking his lips. I smack his hand with the fork when he reaches for the bacon I removed off of the stove to cool down. "Ouch!" He drags his hand to his chest, dramatically.

"No! You wait, Kells." I scold my friend. "I didn't hurt you, but I can stab you with this if you try that again." I bring the fork up, observing as his eyes widen under my threat, frowning.

"You're mean." I smile, playfully brandishing the fork at him at his words. "Daryl, she's gonna kill me with a fucking a fork!"

In the corner of my eye, I watch as Daryl pulls out a knife, beginning to cut the fruit. He knows I like making big meals. I smirk, you never know how runs can go and it's the best to go on a full stomach. "That's ya problem, man. Stop tryin' to bother her while she cooks. Ya know better." He shakes his head, hiding the smile that's dancing on his handsome face. "I know better than to get on her bad side. I gotta close my eyes next to her every night. I ain't plannin' on dyin' by her hands anytime soon." He gestures towards me when Kelly opens his mouth to argue with the archer.

Abraham steals the kitchen cutlery from my boyfriend, "Ya gave me a roof, and feed me. Lemme help ya girl today. Ya do a lot, too, Daryl." He explains when Daryl begins to reach for the army vet.