Daisy | The Walking Dead

16. TS-19

~Day sixty-two~

A mischievous grin spread across Dale's face as he chuckled while pouring a glass of rich, velvety red wine for Lori. He found amusement in teasing her, his voice brimming with playful banter. "You know," he said, "in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with their dinner. France too."

Exasperation evident on her face, Lori glanced at Carl, who sat between her and Rick. Raising an eyebrow, she swiftly placed her hand protectively over his cup, determined to thwart any attempts by Dale to pour wine into it. "Well," she retorted with a pointed tone, "when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then."

As infectious laughter reverberated around the dining table, Daisy remained wholly absorbed in devouring her plate spaghetti. The world around her seemed to fade into the background as she blissfully savored every bite, impervious to the joking. 

She loved any kind of pasta, but spaghetti?? It was her absolute favorite and she wouldn't let anything distract her from those yummy, yummy noodles.

Rick flashed a playful grin at his wife, seeking her approval with eager anticipation as his eyes flicked between the bottle of wine and his son's cup. "What's it gonna hurt? C'mon!"

Echoing his own words, Rick adopted a higher-pitched, pleading tone. "C'mon!" 

Lori took a sip from her glass, tilting her head and dramatically lifting her hand away from Carl's cup, signifying her peer-pressured consent.

Prompted by Lori's gesture, another wave of laughter erupted throughout the room, and glasses were raised in a toast as Dale poured the vibrant, ruby liquid into Carl's once-empty cup. The sight of the wine cascading into the glass elicited a chorus of delighted giggles from the twelve-year-old boy.

"There you are, young lad." Dale said. 

It took only a second for Carl to muster the courage to take a hesitant sip, but as soon as the liquid touched his lips, he spit it out in disgust. Scrunching his nose in a mixture of disdain and surprise, he vehemently shook his head and exclaimed, "Ewww!"

The room exploded with uproarious laughter, filling the space with a joyful cacophony of mirth. Sophia, brimming with happiness, couldn't contain her excitement and clasped her hands together, her face radiant with delight.

"That's my boy," Lori praised, pouring the remaining contents of Carl's glass into her own.

"That tastes nasty!" Carl continued to complain, his distaste unmistakable.

As the laughter gradually subsided, T-dog chimed in. "How about you, flower girl?" he jested,  "Wanna give it a try too?"

In that instant, Dale's face lit up, and he theatrically gestured with the wine bottle, pointing it towards Daisy.

Caught off guard by the unexpected suggestion, Daisy's eyes widened, and she froze, her spaghetti noodles hanging midair from her fork, suspended in a moment of anticipation.

Alcohol had always been a sensitive subject for her. The countless bottles that had transformed her father into a monster of sorrow's creation left both her and her brother vowing to never, ever touch the substance.

Having others drink around her didn't bother Daisy, but the offer of alcohol sent her heart plummeting, a strange and deeply unsettling sensation washing over her.

Suddenly, she was bombarded by vivid recollections of her dad. His thunderous yelling, his relentless hitting, his drunken tirades that shattered their fragile peace.

Perched silently on a counter behind the other survivors, Glenn cast a knowing glance at Daisy, trying to wordlessly assure her that she was safe.

"No...thank you," she mustered, her words emerging slowly as she gathered her courage to speak despite the sudden overstimulation that she felt.