Little Mouse

Bang

When I wake up the next day, I feel a strong arm draping over my waist, securing me to the bed. Behind me, Daryl's snores echo throughout the room. I smile, knowing that he and forgives me.

We're friends again.

I sigh, snuggling into the bed. I don't want to get up. Not yet. I pull the covers up a bit. Suddenly, I hear Daryl mutter something in his sleep, and his arm wraps around me, pulling me closer. My face heats up, but I don't move. My back is pressed against his chest. His snores grow quieter, and I feel his heartbeat quickening on my back. But neither of us move. Slowly, his arm unwraps itself from me. Instead of scooting away like I expect him to, he brushes the hair out of my face.

I stay still, unknowing how to stop this without making things awkward. Luckily, it doesn't come to that. Daryl sits up behind me, groaning. I hear little pops, so I'm assuming that he was stretching. The sheets slide away when he gets out of the bed. I get goosebumps when my skin touches the cold air of the room. I hear light footsteps coming around the bed, and I quickly shut my eyes. I feel a presence in front of me, and moments later, the blankets crawl back up my body. They smooth out under Daryl's rough hands. Then I feel one of his fingers brush my cheek, tucking a stray piece of jet black hair behind my ear.

"Night, Lil' Mouse." He mumbles, right before he steps away. I hear the fumbling of some bags, and a minute later, the door opens. Once it shuts, I sit up, gazing at the door.

Lil' Mouse? Since when has he called me that? I wonder. I shrug it off, my cheek still warm with his touch. I feel myself smiling.

He does care.

...

In the cafeteria, just about everyone is in a hangover. Especially Daryl. I feel bad for him, and sit down beside him. Lori passes around a bottle of aspirin. When it gets to me, I take two out. I'm not nearly as hungover as everyone else. Then again, I only had a sip of the tart wine. I pass the bottle on, and hand Daryl the pills.

"I don' need no pills." He grumbles, pushing my hand away.

"It'll make your head feel better." I state, setting them in front of him. "I could grind them up and sprinkle it on your eggs if you want." I offer. The smell of powdered eggs fills the air. T-dog, (who isn't as hungover) is cooking the powdery eggs. Daryl mutters something under his breath, before popping both pills into his mouth. Handing him the glass of water, he chugs them down, making a face.

"It ain't workin'. I still feel like shit." He grumbles.

"It's not magic. It'll take some time." I say, sitting closer.

"Fuckin' head hurts." He scowls.

"Next time don't drink a whole bottle of wine in ten minutes." I joke, nudging him. He mutters something inaudible and sets his head down, covering his face with his arms. I chuckle a little and rub his back. T-dog finishes the eggs, and starts dishing them out. He sets two plates in front of Daryl and I, smiling.

"Daryl, you wanna eat?" I ask, nudging him. He shakes his head. "It'll help with the taste of aspirin, plus it'll help you feel better faster." I state. Groaning, he lifts his head. Stabbing the eggs with his fork, he takes a bite. But quickly lowers his head. Rubbing the back of his neck, I take a bite of my own eggs. They taste off. Then again, they're powdered.

I hear footsteps behind us, and I turn to see Rick trudging in. He looks just as hung over as nearly everyone else in the group. Lori hands him the bottle of aspirin. "From Jenner." She says, simply.

Moments after, Shane enters the room and heads straight for the coffee. I look back down at Daryl, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Feel bad as I do, Shane?" Rick asks, taking a couple pills.