Daryl's Lullaby ~ Daryl Dixon x Reader

Ch.35 ~ First Fight

A/N: Hey guys just a few quick notes.

1. YALL I GOT A FIRST FUCKING JOB TODAY 😂 bitch about to make some monies. 🤑

2. Shout out to EddieEddie1234 One of y'all fellow readers who is also writing a Daryl x Reader book if anyone wants to check it out. (I have and I am enjoying it)

3. So I was rewatching season 8 cause I was tryna think up ideas for future chapters and uh...I watched Carl's death and I am not okay, so excuse me if I suddenly disappear while I go into mourning once again.

4. Some Welsh in this chapter but translations provided.

Okay no more annoying Author. Enjoy the chapter

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Y/n's POV

My comment had left an awkward atmosphere surrounding myself and Daryl. The entire time I helped him pack up his tent and move it over to this old stone structure in a field over from the group's camp. Neither of us uttered a word, just silently going about the task at hand and occasionally glancing at each other till the other looked our way.

Even Skylla had joined in the glances, tilting her head in a confused doggie way as she watched the two of us sneak glances at the other. While I knew the silence between us wasn't a voluntary silence but more of a 'if either of us talked it would likely start up a fight' kind of silence, I was immensely thankful for it. It allowed me to clear my head a bit.

I still blamed myself for the Sophia's death, because of two reasons. The first being that even with my trained K9, the girl still ended up missing which caused the initial blame to fall on my shoulders. Carol didn't have trouble voicing this and passing the initial blame onto me. Secondly, I blamed myself because I had been the one to shoot the child, even if she was dead before I shot her. More importantly I knew this incident was gonna change me. For better or for worse that remains to be seen.

A little while later once the tent was set up, the two of us still weren't talking. Daryl choosing to sit down and sharpen his hunting knife while deciding to train since it had been a while. Back home when I had gone through something tough or had trouble deciding on something, I found training always helped clear my thoughts. Lucky for me there was a rather sturdy oak tree next to us.

I removed my army coat opting to train in just my cargo camouflage trousers and my black vest top that was tucked into my trousers. I jumped up hooking my hands onto the branch and jerking/bouncing on it to see if it would hold my weight. It seemed sturdy enough to me so I did a pull up, pulling my body atop the branch so I could hook my legs on it.

Sitting atop the branch I bounced on it again, only hearing the rustling of the leaves and no quiet snaps. Being sure it wouldn't now hold my full body weight I lent back so that I dangled by my legs with my arms hooked behind my head. My dog tags along with my brothers dangled in my face as I began to do sit ups.

For a solid five minutes all you can hear was the scratching of Daryl's knife against the sharpening tool and my quiet muttering. I was  so busy counting away that I almost missed Daryl's quiet gruff voice.

"You've got a tattoo?" He asked having ceased sharpening his knife.

I let my body flop down as I dangled for a moment catching my breath. I arched a brow, tilting my head to the right so I could catch his gaze only to find it on me. His ocean blue eyes watching my every move.

I twisted to see if the back of my shirt had fallen only to see it still tucked in. That though was when I realised the top I wore only had two thin-ish straps and no sleeves, meaning the man would be able to see the part of the tattoo which covered my shoulder blades.