FALLEN ANGEL ➵ DARYL DIXON [1] ✓

Chapter Fifty-Five: Heretofore | Part IV

Chapter 55

~ Those hardest to love need it most ~

***

Me and my girl have been living with each other for over a year now. I've got to admit, it's been the best year of my life. We have sex nearly every night since we've lived together. But that's not the point I'm trying to make now, is it? Yeah, the sex is great, but it's more than that.

She's more than that.

I'm just back from work, kicking off my boots at the front door, the snow melting onto the floor, making little puddles. Aw, it'll be alright. Kelly won't be mad at this.

I swear, I think she has OCD. Is all girls like this? I wouldn't know, I've only been with one true girl in my life. And that's her. Of course I've never told her that cause I'm feared it would freak her out. That she was my first... And hers wasn't me. It kinda sadness me a little, knowing I wasn't her first, that she laid next to a man before me. Am I jealous? No.

Yes.

I shake the thought along with my coat, patting down my black coat and my blue/green tartan shirt that she loves on me. I fucking hate wearing it, but I'll put it on if it keeps her happy. I like it when she's happy. It lightens whatever mood I'm in regardless. Only she has the power of doing that. And I don't know why.

"Hey, darling. You're back. I'm in here," she says, calling from the living room. I follow her voice, her on the new long brown sofa we got. She redecorated our entire house, stripping the wall paper and even getting new furniture. She says it was like a pig's sty. And I funny enough I agreed with her on that one. I mean, we got it for cheap. It ain't anything special. But if she wants to make the place to her liking, then I'm not stopping her. I like her taste anyway so it doesn't bother me too much.

"Hey, sweetheart," I say, leaning over the back of the sofa so I can plant a longing kiss on her lips that I've been craving to do since I left her this morning. "How ya holdin' up?"

She moans at this, pouting her lips that I've probably kissed more than a thousand times by now. "Merle called around today," she tells me, recalling the memory.

"Was he nice?" I dare to ask, already getting pissed off with him if he wasn't.

"It's Merle we're talking about, Daryl. His nice is our rude."

"Ya still haven't answered my question, Kelly."

"Oh," she says. "I forgot. Yeah, the pain has died down a bit..."

She pulls at her lips, throwing her legs up onto the sofa so she's more comfortable, holding her stomach to where the pain is. I get a blanket out for her, unfolding it out and placing it around her so she's snug. I couldn't stop thinking about her all day at work; how she was doing and if she got more sick.

"Daryl..."

She lets out a shaky breath, putting her hand to her forehead. She gulps down hard, biting her nails and dead skin. I can see that she's worried about something.

Very worried.

I sit down on the one seater couch beside her, crossing my legs up and scratching the back of my head, my hand rested on my lower leg.

"What's wrong?"

She closes her eyes, lowering her head.

"I'm-"