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THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT as the group works around the property, securing fences, killing walkers, moving into the house and burying a loved one. That's the thing about deaths. Everyday life around you doesn't change, it's you that changes.
Aria rubs her cheek on her shoulder, her hands covered in grease from vehicles. She had suggested she look over the vehicles to make sure they're all good just in case they have to make a run for it. Rubbing the screw with a napkin, she then sets the napkin next to her before screwing it into place. Slamming the hood of the light green car shut, she wipes her hands on the napkins, her hands already stained. "You got 'em?" Turning her head, she slowly nods, answering Hershel's question.
"Yes. All I need to do is check the truck and then I'll be done." She informs him, a little confused as to why the older man is talking to her. Rarely anyone just walks up and starts a conversation, let alone someone she's never talked to. Hershel nods, his eyes gazing around at the scenery before him. "Um—do you have car oil by any chance? I'm pretty sure the truck is going to need some." Hershel nods, motioning for the female to follow him.
Shuffling behind him, Aria stares down at her dirty black converse. She knows she probably going to have to trade in the converse for some boots sooner or later. "Here you go." Hershel utters, handing her the bottle of car oil. "Thank you." She replies, studying the bottle in her hand, sending him a look of gratitude. Walking away from him, she watches as the truck pulls up, Andrea, Shane, T-Dog and Daryl piling out of it. "Pop the hood." She tells them, standing in front of the blue truck. The hood pops, signaling that it's unlocked.
Pulling the hood up, she pulls the oil stick out, examining where the oil ends on it. And of course—she was correct, the truck did need oil. Wiping the stick off with the once white napkin, she unscrews the lid of the bottle, standing on her tip-toes. Tilting the bottle to the side, the liquid pours out, filling it up. Pushing the oil stick back, she tightens it in place before backing away, shutting the hood.
"Done." She breathes out, screwing the oil lid back. Just as she finishes, Andrea hits the back of the tailgate, signaling T-Dog to start driving towards the house. Sighing softly, Aria walks a few feet ahead of Rick and Hershel, the oil bottle in hand. "Aria." Rick calls and she turns around, sending him a small smile. "When I'm out with Daryl, help Hershel keep an eye on things around here." Furrowing her eyebrows, Aria walks beside them, confusion on her face.
"Why me?" She asks, looking over towards the two. "Shane's got a way of letting things get out of hand, especially when he's all torqued up." Aria nods her head, leaning forward to look at Hershel. "We will make the best team." She jokes, sending him a wink. She can joke when she wants, just most of the time she chooses to stay serious.
Aria looks up towards the roof of the barn, her hand shielding her eyes from the harsh rays of the sun beaming down on her. "You need some help up there?" Aria calls out to Daryl, the hammer suddenly stopping. "Come on." Daryl replies and she grabs onto the ladder, walking up the steps. "Hey." She breathes out, stepping onto the tin roof. As she walks across it, the roof makes a sound with each step she takes. Crouching down beside Daryl, she picks up a handful of nails, holding her hand out in front of her for an easy grab.
"How do you feel about all this—shit?" She asks, having to pause to think of the right word to describe everything. Daryl shrugs his shoulders, grabbing a nail from her hand before pounding it into the wood. "It's how the world is now. We have to learn to deal with it." He huffs, wiping a drop of sweat off his face. Aria purses her lips, nodding her head. "And you, my friend, are correct." She mutters, staring at her reflection in the tin.
Her face has most definitely slimmed down from the lack of everyday food. But her cheeks still have a little fat to it, keeping her face somewhat warm. She used to hate her cheeks because people would make fun of her for not having a 'slim face'. She doesn't care now, those people are probably dead anyway. Even without the mascara, Aria's blonde eyelashes curl upward, staying a little visible. Unfortunately, some acne has popped up from the lack of facial cleanser but what is she supposed to do? She can't exactly worry about what she looks like in the middle of an apocalypse.
"Aria?" Daryl whistles, catching the attention of the zoned out female. Humming a small response, she realizes all the nails in her hand are gone and she frowns, raising her eyes. "You're finished—already?" She asks, astonished. Her dad was always a slow worker so having someone finish a project that quick shocks her.
Climbing down the ladder, she jumps off once she reaches the bottom. The two begin to walk towards the house, comfortable silence enveloping the two. This seems to be a regular thing between the two; talk for a few minutes, comfortable silence the rest of the time but she doesn't hate it, it's refreshing. She can't deny it no more, she likes Daryl. But she doesn't know nothing about relationships so not telling him about the crush is the way to go.
