Chapter 150

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I ground my teeth, trying not to get up and throw this pot on the coffee table at Carol and Lori in the kitchen.

They're not doing anything wrong — I know that, it's just — uggggggh. I have been cooped up in this house with for way too long.

'I'm gonna kill something. And it's gonna be Hershel if he reads one more bible verse out loud.'

I can only stand to be around people for so long. We're all up in each other's space, right on top of each other all day every day — there's no privacy, I can hear what everyone's doing at all times of the day. And I swear to god, if I hear Maggie & Glenn going at it one more time, I'm gonna soak their condoms in hot sauce and listen to them scream.

If I'm lucky, they'll get scared enough to ask Hershel if something's wrong with their baby-makers.

More likely but also equally as acceptable, Glenn will ask someone if condoms can expire and if it burns when they do.

Either way, I win.

I scrubbed my hands over my tired face.

It feels like a lazy day. A day to take a nap and just curl up under this fuzzy blanket that I've claimed and read.

I wanna listen to music but there's no way to. There's not even an instrument to play. I could whistle I suppose.

I groaned, stretching my back over the couch while I laid down.

If I start whistling someone else is gonna get annoyed. Most of us are 1 incident away from being at each other's throats.

This house is not big enough for the whole dozen of us. I feel like a carton of eggs. A wild animal trapped in a cage, pacing the edges.

"Hey." Daryl greeted and I hummed in response.

He came over and lifted my feet up to sit down, setting them on his lap.

"How's yer hand?" Daryl picked my hand up off my stomach, looking at my purple and blue fingers.

I shrugged, letting him look.

That's what I get for searching that car without paying enough attention and getting the door slammed shut on my fingers. I think I've gotten too used to the alerting sound of snow crunching. Thankfully they didn't break but it was painful. Still is.

It still kind of amazes me that we actually managed to survive the winter.

I watched Daryl set my hand back down, holding the side, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in gentle motions. Something he seems to enjoy doing. Just drawing little patterns on my wrists, hands, tracing my veins or following the lines on my palms. Connecting all the tiny little scars like constellations.

He used to only do it after I had a panic attack. In the winter, when all the snow made me feel closed in 24/7 and much more stressed than I should have been. Lately though, it's just become habit. A calming habit that usually puts me to sleep.

Daryl touched my forehead, brushing my hair off of it.

"Fever's gone."

I smiled. What did I tell ya? Just a cold. No need to worry. Now will you please get me out of here? I'm gonna lose my goddamn mind if I have to stay on this couch for another day. Kicking the butts of anyone who sits down to play cards with me for awhile has been fun, but there comes a point when 38 wins in a row is just too many.

I sighed, turning onto my side. Watching out the living room room window as the others are mostly on the front lawn, packing things into the cars. Again.

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