No need for jelousy

No Need for Jealousy

Daryl glanced up from his arrows and towards you at the distant sound of laughter.

You were talking with Glenn, Andrea, and Amy, joking it seemed, while some stew brew over the campfire for dinner. He scoffed, wondering what you all could even have to joke about, and he looked back down at his arrows before you could catch him staring...it was bad enough that you did the day before.

His eyes, though, were stubborn and seemed to have power over his thoughts, because soon, they were darting to you again. This time, you looked at him before he could look down, and when you noticed it, you smiled at him, so Daryl quickly averted his eyes from you.

Soon enough, though, he heard steps approaching, and he looked up enough to check that it was you, walking towards his and his brother's tents, a bowl of stew in each of your hands.

"Hey," you greeted, but he didn't say anything, eyes on his fingers, which were fidgeting with his arrows. "I bring some dinner."

"Can cook my own," he said, glancing at you just enough to see your smile faltering for a second before it was back as you shrugged.

"I know...but you already caught the rabbit that's in this stew, so..." When he didn't say anything, you lowered down enough to place the bowl of stew in front of him.

"Thanks." The word slipped past his lips as a low rasp, even if Daryl hadn't meant to speak, and his eyes once again looked from his arrows to you in time to see your smile. His lip twitch up at it into the smallest of the smiles, just a second, without him being able to stop it.
Your smile went bigger at that and Daryl's stomach did something weird, and he averted his eyes again.

You leaned to pass the other bowl to his brother, this time without a word or a smile, and Daryl braced himself. You and Merle didn't get along, and he was hoping neither of you would snap...he knew he'd side with his brother, no questions asked, whether that made you angry at him too or not, but he usually felt like shit after it.

You didn't say anything, it was usually Merle the one to start, but this time, he didn't say anything. He had a mocking smirk and Daryl didn't like the way he looked at you as he took the bowl, but at least he wasn't saying a word and he was not upsetting you.

Turning around, you walked back to the main campfire and the others.

Daryl heard his brother chuckling but he ignored him as he began to eat the stew.

"Yer gonna have to do somethin' better to get in her pants," Merle said. "Somethin' at all."

"I don't wanna get on no one's pants," Daryl snapped and he hoped that the heat he felt on his cheeks didn't mean that he was blushing.

"Sure ya don't, lil' bro."

He didn't...it was odd, though, and unwelcomed, how thoughts of you seemed to randomly pop in his head or how his eyes would sometimes look for you around the camp.

He wondered if it might be because he'd found you and brought you to the camp, so now maybe his brain had decided that he ought to check on you, like that time he found a hurt, stray dog and felt like he had to take care of him, hidden, until his father found out.

You had been wandering the woods, coming from the road after, as you explained later, your car stopped working when you rammed a bunch of walkers on your way. You had been looking rather lost, a dirty and crumpled map in your hand, as your scared and anxious eyes scanned the woods.

Daryl had been hunting when he spotted you. At first, he stayed hidden, crossbow ready, but soon he realized you were not a threat. You were alone, lost, scared, dirty, and unarmed...later, Daryl'd wondered how the hell hadn't you become walker's food already, traveling like that, and some nights he still wondered if you'd have died, maybe that same day, if he hadn't found you, and the idea always sent an unpleasant feeling to his stomach.