A bright flash of light and a small click wakes you from your restful sleep, and peeking your eyes open slowly a warm smile stretches out across your lips.
The summer sun was up bright and early in the light blue sky, and it shone down warming the blanket that was wrapped around your body. The scent of fresh air filled your senses, and the sun created shadows that danced against the grey cement of the guard tower. The sunshine instantly warming everything it touched.
As your eyes continue to flutter open as they adjust to the light flooding your vision, your hand stretches out beside you to find the other side of the blanket to be empty. But you know he isn't gone.
Maybe it's the scent of him that you have learned to love that tells you he is still there. A woodsy, deep masculine scent. Maybe it's the shadow that is casted against the second pillow that he laid upon the night prior. The shadow that outlines a figure you will forever recognize. But perhaps, it's the feeling of Daryl Dixon's presence that gives him away. The sudden warmth and comfort his being brings whenever he is near.
Focusing your eyes in the bright shine of morning, your eyes fall upon him. The man you knew was still right beside you as he had been all night. Smiling shyly, you clutch the blanket to your chest as you lean your weight on your elbow. Your hair brushing down the side of your shoulder as you face him.
"Where on earth did you find one of those?" You ask, a playful note in your voice as you watch him set down a small black camera.
"Morning to you too," Daryl remarks, and the sun that shines in behind him makes him utterly beautiful. "And I picked it up on a run."
Picking up the small photograph off of the blanket before he can, you hold the photo up in the light. Its a small picture, but your sleeping face and figure is clear. Before you can tear the picture into pieces yourself, Daryl plucks it out of your fingers.
"Daryl," You say, sitting up further. "Rip it up, please."
"Why?"
"Why? Because look at it! I look awful in that photograph, please rip it up." You plead to the redneck that does nothing but smirk faintly.
"No. I like it." He says looking at the picture as you did.
Sighing, you run a hand through your tangles. "Fine. If you won't get rid of it, then I want one of you."
His eyebrows raise and his blue eyes lift to meet your gaze. "No."
"Come on Daryl," You say, moving towards him. Taking the camera out of his lap before his hands can grab hold of it.
"No, ain't taken no picture." Daryl shakes his head adamantly.
"Its only fair Daryl, you get a picture of me, I get a picture of you."
His lips curve upward slightly, "Hate ta be the one ta break it to ye darling, but life ain't fair."
Rolling your eyes you shoot him a look, but let out a sigh as you know this is one of those times that his mind is made up. And even a tank couldn't break through his stubborn wall.
"I don't see why I can't have a picture of you Daryl. I'm letting you keep that awful one of me sleeping, why can't I take one of you?"
Daryl sighs, stretching his legs out in front of him and stares down at the printed photograph in his calloused hands. Running his thumb over the shadow of your face gently.
"Because I go on all them runs, you don't. I go out there, ain't knowing if I'm gonna come back to you. I know you're here safe, but I want something with me if I don't come back. This," Daryl explains, waving the picture in his hand. "Is a small piece of ye I can take with me, and still know you're safe."
His words are sincere and honest. Vulnerable. Something that makes Daryl uneasy and uncomfortable, yet he's sharing with you the truth. No matter how soft or how weak it may sound to him.
To you... It sounds human.
"And me?" Daryl's eyes lift from his steady gaze on the photograph, to meet yours that stare at him intently
"You go out there, but I have to stay here knowing that you aren't safe. I have to wait and hope that you return home to me. Where's my keepsake? Where's my picture to look at when the lonely nights run long? Where's my picture that I can hold tightly to if you don't come back to me?"
When you woke that morning, you didn't expect to have a conversation like this with Daryl. But in the back of your mind, you always assumed it would be one you would both have to have... A few times.
Shaking your head, you look down at your hands that twist in your lap as a single tear falls from your eyes. Willing the tears to go away, you don't want to cry in front of Daryl. Not right now.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, and you don't know what exactly it is you apologize for. If it's for your tears, if it's for wanting a picture of him he'll never give you. Or if its everything.
You can hear Daryl release a deep breath, as he shifts behind you to lean back against the cement wall where he slept last night. "C'mere."
His hand rests gently on your shoulder, and he pulls for you to move into his open arms.
His warmth instantly floods you as you lean into his side, and his arm that drapes around your shoulder is a blanket of comfort. As your eyes shut in the warm feel of his arms, his lips brush against your temple softly. His lips tender and gentle.
Leaning further into his embrace, his arm moves and wraps around your waist. Dragging you in closer to him, as if you can't get close enough for his liking.
Resting your hands on top of his left hand that holds you comfortingly, you don't notice his right hand raising. You feel his lips move from your temple down to the soft skin of your exposed shoulder. His lips hot and they caress your skin gently.
It isn't until another small click and a flash of light, that you open your eyes just as his hand lowers.
"What are you doing?" You murmur, you voice soft and quiet.
Daryl says nothing, just pulls the photograph from the camera and holds the small picture up in the light of the morning sun.
In the small square photograph, you both are front and center. His arm holding you close as your eyes are shut, but his beautiful blues are open and gazing into the camera as he takes the picture. His lips are pressed tenderly to your shoulder, and just by looking at the two of you in that picture, you can physically feel the love. A warmth that erupts inside of you, just like everytime you are with Daryl Dixon. Your love is so strong that it's palpable through that of a photograph.
"Now ye got a picture of me," Daryl whispers lowly against your skin. His breath hot and it sends a tingle down your skin.
This picture would not only be something you could look at and hold close when Daryl was away and you missed him. But something you could look at and hold close when you needed a reminder that Daryl Dixon did indeed love you the way you loved him. For he didn't always say it and he wasn't always good at showing it, but this photograph proved without a shadow of a doubt that Daryl loved you.
A/N: Some Daryl fluff anyone??
