𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 ♔ 𝙙.𝙙𝙞𝙭𝙤𝙣 [1]

10

Daryl opens his eyes, greeted with the sight of Scarlett, who is twirling an arrow in her hand while looking down at the ground. "What you want?" He asks, his throat sore. Scarlett snaps out of her thoughts, looking up at the sound of his voice. "I was told to stay here with you." She answers, setting the arrow down beside her. "I don't need no babysitter." Daryl grumbles, his eyes narrowing.

"Deal with it, I can't leave until they come back in here." Scarlett retorts, standing to her feet. She walks over to the bedside table, grabbing the glass of water. Daryl slowly sits up, wincing when pain shoots through his side. "You okay?" Scarlett asks, setting the glass in his hands. "I'm fine!" He snaps and Scarlett rolls her eyes, sitting back down in the chair.

Scarlett's thoughts return to her mind and she plays with her fingers, trying to distract herself. "I saw your back." She whispers, looking back up. Daryl freezes before snapping back to reality. "Yeah. Mind your own business." He snarls and Scarlett looks back down at her hand.

Hershel walks into the room, nodding at Scarlett. She lets out a sigh before leaving the room in a hurry. As she walks out of the house, she runs into Carl, almost knocking him on his feet. "Sorry bud." She mutters, gripping his arms. "Are you going to come to the shooting practice? We're about to leave!" Carl asks, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "Yeah, I would love to come."

♢ ♢ ♢

After gun practice, Scarlett sends in her tent, arm over her eyes. To be quite honest, no one told her to stay with Daryl, she wanted to stay to make sure he was alright. She couldn't admit that to Daryl though, it would make things weird.

She lets out a groan, sitting up. She grabs the arrows that are beside her sleeping bed, before walking out of the open tent. Scarlett makes her way over to Daryl's tent, already knowing he is in there. She stands by the front of he open tent, bending down. "I would knock, but there is nothing to knock on." She says, catching Daryl's attention.

He just stares at her and she rolls her eyes, stepping into the tent. "Here," She pauses, holding out the satchel of arrows. "I almost died getting them for you, by the way." She says and Daryl grabs them out of her hands, sitting up. "These are top notch, how'd ya' get them?" Daryl asks, examining the arrows.

"Saw them on a walker that I thought was dead, turns out it wasn't." She chuckles, sitting down. "Ya' bit?" Daryl asks, looking up from the arrows. Scarlett shakes her head, hair flying everywhere. "Hell no! Those walkers are no match for me." Scarlett jokes, a smile on her face.

"How'd you get—" Daryl cuts her off with a glare, shaking his head. "It ain't none of yer' business." He growls and Scarlett sighs, "I was going to ask about the arrow." Scarlett corrects, licking her lips.

"Stupid horse got spooked and knocked me off the damn thing. When I landed, an arrow got caught in my side, nothing big." Daryl shrugs it off and Scarlett holds back a laugh. "A horse got the best of The Daryl Dixon? Wow." Scarlett jokes, delight in her eyes. "Shut up, lady." He mutters and before Scarlett can answer, Andrea comes to the tent, book in her hand.

Scarlett glares at the girl, clenching her jaw. "I'm sorry for shooting you." Andrea says, handing Daryl the book. "What no pictures?" Daryl jokes and Scarlett furrows her eyebrows before getting up. "You better be happy your aim was bad, because if it wasn't I would've killed you." Scarlett snaps before walking out of the tent, fists clenched.

Scarlett doesn't know exactly what she is feeling right now, but she is ready to punch someone in their throat.