Norman Reedus Imagines

Lessons (Daryl)

Cautiously stepping through the crowded, musty room; your fingers grazed over the dust covered items. Crumbling boxes, decaying furniture and dirty linen was scattered around, most beyond repair and unusable. The shattering of glass behind you caused you to spin on your heel, fingers gracing over the handle of your knife. Eyes squinting in the darkness, you looked at the pile of broken glass on the floor from what you presumed had been a vase. Glancing up at Daryl, he just shrugged at you before turning to move more boxes. You mimicked him, sliding a long box down from a stack and peeling off the tape.

The box was filled with trophies and newspapers. As you continued pawing through, your hands clasped around something sharp and thin. Pulling the object out, you came face to face with a matte black crossbow, nearly identical to the one Daryl had slung over his shoulder. Holding it up, you coughed to get his attention. He turned, eyes catching the crossbow, lips quirking up at the side.

"You really don't have an excuse not to teach me now.." You could feel the smug grin spread across your lips as he made his way over to you. He pawed through the box retrieving a cylinder with several arrows in it before turning to you, eyebrow raised.

"Fine." You stood on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before returning to the boxes.

Standing in the vast field, crossbow poised at your chest, squinting through the small scope, your fingers itched at the trigger.

"Hold on firm, and let 'er rip." Your grip tightened infinitesimally on the weapon and your fingers squeezed the trigger. The crossbow moved back into your chest slightly, and as you lowered it, you couldn't see the arrow anywhere. Glancing at Daryl, a slight smirk danced across his lips. Your eyebrows knitted together as you followed his gaze to the arrow, planted firmly in a tree about three feet above the target.

"Well then." You dropped to your knee, loading another arrow into the bow, you harshly pulled the string back before returning to your feet. "Ya know Daryl, maybe I need a little more assistance." You tilted your head to the side and he strode over to you, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you raised the crossbow once again.

"That's it, now jus' gently squeeze the trigger." You did as instructed, grinning as you watched the arrow soar through the air and hit the edge of the target. Turning in his embrace, you stared up at him eagerly. He simply nodded, leaning down and trailing kisses across your jaw.

"Thankyou Mr. Dixon." The corner of your lips irked up at the sides as you thoughts drifted to the beautiful ring situated on your finger, the one he had spent weeks raiding jewellery stores to find. He simply murmured something unintelligible against your jaw before standing, and glancing over your shoulder. You spun to see a lone walker stumbling through the long grass, momentarily falling into a small ditch. You glanced up at Daryl and he nodded, stepping back as you raised the cross bow to your chest once again.

Taking several steps forward, your hands began shaking uncontrollably as the walker stumbled from the ditch toward you.

"Breathe, baby." You took a sharp breathe before aiming the crossbow towards the walkers head. Holding your breath, you lightly squeezed the trigger, refusing to blink as the arrow soared through the air and ploughing into the walkers chest. It staggered back for a second before regaining its balance and continuing its pursuit. Your breath hitched in your throat before you turned to Daryl, handing him the crossbow. He took it, a questioning look in his eyes, watching carefully as you made your way toward the walker. Retrieving your knife from its sheath. You took one final stride so you were an arms reach from the walker before ploughing your knife through its skull.

It froze before slinking to a heap on the ground. You bent to retrieve your knife before turning to face Daryl.

"I think I'll leave the cross-bows to the professionals. Enjoy your new toy darlin'."