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

eightyone.

Daryl POV

Carol locates me inside the tent I had shared with my wife, Blue's wedding ring and arrowhead necklace tight within my grasp. I was devastatingly nervous when I had gifted the necklace to her. It's something I never done before; but her reaction made it all worth it in the end. I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes. "I came to you as soon as I heard." I glance up, spotting the redness in the whites of her eyes. She's been mourning, too. I know she adored Blue, and held respect for both of them. "Charlee said someone came up behind her, knocking her out. When she came to, Vanessa was gone." Her voice begins to crack, "she searched and searched... but nothing."

"I didn't get a chance to ask." I grunt. "She coulda, shoulda, come to me. How long?"

"Two days." I bow my head, hating that I had a feeling that something happened to my wife, but no one would tell me. "You know she wouldn't disappear. It's obvious that something happened. Someone took her. How are you handling it all?" She inquiries carefully.

I shrug, unable to give her a proper answer. I'm angry. I'm scared. I feel empty. "I still got ya." My head snaps as the realization dawns on me from my argument with Vanessa about a week ago. Owen. Shit. "I'm goin' to talk to Negan and check on the twins. I gotta tell Wren and Tori. I'll meet ya back at the sanctuary."

"Go, I'll pack up for you." She nods. As I step around her, she wraps her arms around my shoulder. "We will get her back." I nod, allowing my head to fall on her tiny frame for a moment. She rubs my back. I pull myself together, stepping out of the tent.

I climax, listening to Vanessa moan. I bite my lip at the sound. I remove my hand from the headboard, tangling my fingers in her brown hair, painting little kisses along her neck before my lips reaches hers. Our tongues dance together for a moment. I pull out, lowering myself next to her. She giggles, covering her face.

"Oh, stop that." I breath out, taking her hand into mine, "just wanna look at ya. You're the most beautiful, intoxicatin' woman I ever met. Ya never fail to take my breath away." I wish I could capture this moment. She shakes her head. I prop my own head with my free hand, eyes not leaving the woman in front of me. Her nose wiggles while red embarrassment paints her face. I grip her hand, not allowing her to hide from me."Ya need to stop that." Her hair falls around her in a beautiful mess. Her freckled fair skin flush from our moment and now my flattery. Her darker tattoos are a stark contrast to her natural coloring.

I'm in awe that this woman is all mine, and I will be fucking selfish. I waited ages for a woman like her to come into my life. I ain't letting her go, even if it means my own safety will be in jeopardy. I will stop at nothing to keep her at my side as long as I draw air between my lungs.

The group never gets to see the side of her that she shows me freely and unflinchingly. The unguarded, gleefully, enchanting, carefree side of her that she keeps so locked under the many layers that make up this woman next to me. When I first met this side, I fell deeper in love with her. It's safe to say, I'm hopelessly and dangerously devoted to her. She just doesn't know that I feel the way I do about her.

"Stop what?" She questions innocuously. Big blue eyes growing innocent as the seconds tick by.

"Hidin' from my compliments. Ya nose does that little wiggle right before ya face turns red." I bring her hand intertwined with mine to her attention, "then ya cover ya face with this. I'm gonna start tyin' ya up if ya don't stop, Miss Taylor."

She bites her lip at that thought, pointing her finger at my chest, "well if you put it that way, Mister Dixon. Tie away!" She grins, chuckling. The sound is like music to my ears, making my knees weak.