Chapter Thirty Four

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34. No Going Back

 No Going Back

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  Her eyes fluttered open slowly, unwilling to interrupt the calmest sleep they've had in a long time. Sunlight was already streaming through the window, settling over the bed in a golden haze. Her breath hitched as her memory clicked, waking from the fog of sleep slower than her body.

  Daryl.

  She sat up straight, her back flat against the wall. He was already awake and ready for the day, sipping on a cup of coffee as he stared out the window. He turned his gaze to her, a smile flicking the corners of his lips. "Morning," he murmured, standing up from the rocking chair he had scooted across the room. He put the chair back in it's place in the corner and grabbed the other mug off her desk, passing it to her wordlessly.

  The coffee was lukewarm at best, but she could've sworn it was the best cup she had ever had. "Thanks," she whispered, crossing her legs and sweeping her curls over her shoulder. "What time is it?"

"Eh, not too late," he shrugged, sitting on the farthest edge of the bed away from her. "Just after nine."

"Jesus," she mumbled. "Haven't slept eight hours in years.." she trailed off, just as a pit of anxiety settled inside her. "Oh my god- Jesus! Is he awake?" She tossed the blanket away from her, scrambling out of bed and set the coffee cup back on her desk.

"Well, that's the thing," he grunted. He cleared his throat and stood to face her. "He broke out. Then broke in here. Rick and Michonne caught him and we're all gonna talk."

"What the hell," she raised her hands in exasperation. "How did he get out? How the hell did he get in here? How did Rick and Michonne find hin? Oh I have so many questions, I need to get dressed, I need to find Rick," she rambled as she scurried around the room, snatching a rubber band off her dresser and shoving her hair into a ponytail.

"Alright, alright, Ace," he murmured, resting his hand on her shoulder to calm her nervous babbling. "Nobody's going anywhere, you'll have plenty of time for answers, okay?" She felt her shoulders relax and her jaw unclench, and she took a deep breath. "Now, get dressed," he ordered softly. "I'll wait for ya downstairs." He paused for a moment, just a small one, before cupping a hand around her head and pulling her close to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

And just like that, he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him. She hurriedly changed into her jeans and a brown flannel, fumbling with the plastic buttons as she shoved her boots on and stumbled out the door. As he promised, Daryl was waiting for her by the stairs, his fading wings facing her. She took the steps two at a time and jumped down to meet him, reaching for the door before he put a hand on hers to stop her.

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