Nicotine - A Jesus x Daryl Fanfiction

Amphetamine

AN: Welcome to Nicotine! I don't plan on having a lot of ups and downs, but I want the relationship to be a long time coming type situation. Just a quick note! I will be telling you when the pov changes are; for example, this chapter is in third person all the way through. Thanks for understanding :-)

  Daryl Dixon was a blackhole, a theoretical mass floating aimlessly in a sky of stars. Lost amongst the broken suns, Daryl was carved by angels, and gifted brains by demons. He carried his past like a crossbow slung loosely around his shoulder.

  Paul Monroe was the stars, the moon, and the sun that all the planets orbited around. He was alluring and distinctive. If you ever had the leisure to meet such a magnificent enigma, the image would be permanently burned into your brain. Cobalt eyes complemented thick strands of cinnamon tinted hair. A smile that could melt an empire.

***

  Daryl sat outside his trailer, whiskey in one hand, the other one occupied with wiping grieve-ridden tears from his eyes. That guilt he felt, it was his fault and only his fault. He was a man of very few words, he left speaking and expressing to others. After the slaughter of Glenn and Abraham he had closed the world out entirely. Silence is torture, but addictive. He can't look at Maggie, he refuses to even communicate with her in the slightest. It reminds of him of when he came out to his brother, Merle. The faded memory like a ghost, forever haunting him. Jesus cautiously approached the "barely" intoxicated creature. His hair was damp from the unbearable humidity. Daryl's shoulders were hunched, bloodshot eyes complementing tear stained cheeks. Paul gingerly placed a gentle hand on his sturdy shoulder. Daryl jumped at the contact, the whiskey spilling on his jeans. "What the fuck man?" Daryl grunted

   "Sorry, sorry. You just looked all, I don't know, gloomy" Jesus tried to console the distraught man

  "Whatever, just leave me alone." Daryl stood up and balanced himself on the railing. He looked back once more to flip Jesus off. All he earned was a soft chuckle from him. "As you wish." And with this Jesus stalked off.
The early morning sun stretched its limbs on the horizon, delicately poking its head through the clouds. Maggie loved the way the birds sang good morning, their small songs bringing joy to her. She loved the way everyone would wave hello and give their teethed smiles. She hated the way Gregory would pester her, but yet she was happy. Daryl didn't see this, he believed he had ruined her.
Jesus was always so cordial to everyone, even Greg. He'd always minded his own business, stayed quiet during meetings, and pitched in as much as he could. That was until Daryl Dixon showed up. He couldn't quite wrap his finger around it. Daryl was rude, and ludicrous. But there was something about the way his muscles flexed when he lifted something heavy, or the way his voice was hoarse and raspy. It all just made Jesus melt. Little did he know, that Daryl reprocated these emotions.