zoo hq: daryl x reader

chapter seven

the violet night outside your window was calm and still. occasionally, an owl hooted softly. you lied in your bed, staring out the window.

you had tossed and turned all night. it was two AM, and sleep had not yet claimed you.

you wondered why. maybe it was because you were too excited. daryl was sleeping over tomorrow.

after tossing and turning restlessly for yet another two hours, you at last fell asleep.

you were rudely awakened 3 hours later by your alarm. grumbling, you shut it off and stumbled out of bed.

you rubbed your eyes and yawned. you could already tell that this was not going to be a good day.

well actually—

DARYL.

yes, that's right—daryl was sleeping over tonight. you felt rejuvenated, and you were given a burst of energy and motivation. for daryl, you could get through the day.

for daryl.

•••

at 7:00 PM exactly, daryl knocked on your door. you composed yourself and opened the door.

you saw daryl was wearing a brand new, never seen before denim vest. you squeaked.

daryl gave you a confused look.

"uh, that was the door, squeaking, not me—um, come in," you said.

he smiled good-naturedly and stepped into the house. you shut the door behind him and he inhaled the aroma of the house.

"it smells lovely in here," he commented.

"thanks, i'm making spaghetti. you do like spaghetti, right, boo?" you cringed. what ungodly spirit had possessed you?

"of course i do, babe," daryl replied, winking.

BABE. BABE.

you tried not to get choked up.

"good," you said, only mildly sounding like you were in cardiac arrest.

you went back into the kitchen to finish the spaghetti and daryl sat at the table, patiently waiting.

at last, you came out with a large serving bowl of spaghetti. you served daryl and yourself and sat down to eat.

daryl held his finger up to signal you to wait before you started. he reached into the pocket of his denim vest and pulled out... four large candles and a match.

he placed them in front of you and lit them. he then got up and dimmed the lights.

you smiled, your heart melting. he was such a romantic chap.

"ready?" you asked.

"not quite," daryl replied.

he fished a mini bluetooth speaker out of the pocket of his denim vest—how much could fit in there??—and hooked it up to his phone.

he played a song.

bad ideas by tessa violet.

the lyrics filled the room sweetly, and daryl at last sat down. you began to eat, listening to the music, meeting each other eyes when appropriate, and blushing.

i hope you don't think i'm rude
but i want to make out with you
and i'm a little awkward, sure
but i could touch my face to yours

bad ideas,
i know where they lead
but i got too many to sleep so i can't get enough, no
i wanna kiss you standing up