Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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"Yeah." I groaned, "That obvious?" She crossed her arms around her chest and looked me up and down, her smile remaining in place.

"Sort of." She laughed, "Well, I'll leave so you two can get dressed. Breakfast is almost done. T-Dog is making eggs." Eggs sound wonderful about now! Once I get some food in my system, I won't feel as shitty.

"Thanks, Carol!" I exclaimed, profoundly grateful for this woman. She turned on her heel and walked down the hall, her arms still wrapped around her chest as she approached her daughter. I closed the door and separated the clothing, handing Daryl his clothes and refolding mine. Compared to Daryl, I barely had clothes! I only had four shirts - two of which were flannels- three pairs of pants, two pairs of bras and underwear, and a handful of socks.

On the other hand, Daryl had a plethora of shirts, pants, boxers, and socks. I guess he has more room since he has a bigger backpack than I do. Damn, I need to get one like his! Especially when winter comes! I turned my back and grabbed my black cargo and a fresh pair of underwear, shrugging off the boxers I borrowed from Daryl. I heard him groan and turned to look at him, bringing my freshly washed underwear up and letting them hug my waist.

"Can't you do that in the bathroom or somethin'?" He muttered, his eyes glued to the wall in front of him. I snorted and continued undressing, grabbing the closest bra and hooking it behind my back.

"Making you uncomfortable, Dixon?" I asked, suppressing a laugh as I stood half-naked before him.

"It's weird 'cause it's you." He muttered, refusing to look my way. I rolled my eyes and hastily put on my pants, leaving on my gray tank top from last night. I packed the rest of my clothing and pulled my boots on my feet. Daryl held a pair of pants and walked to the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. My head still pounded something fierce, but it was slowly subsiding, making it easier for me to function. Taking one last look at the room, I walked towards the door and twisted the knob, deciding to head to the dining area to eat and hopefully take something for my head. I walked down the hallway, minding my business, when Rick came out of his room. His hand came up to shield his eyes from the bright lights in the hallway, not noticing I was behind him. I smiled and stealthily ran to him, grabbing his shoulders and laughing. He jumped in fright and turned back, his eyes squinting as he looked at me.

"Hungover?" I asked the man. He nodded and gave me his best smile even though he was obviously in pain. "I know how you feel, but I don't think I'm as bad as you."

"Just woke up not five minutes ago." He groaned, "It's always the worst when you just wake up." I silently agreed with him as we walked toward the dining area.

"Last night was fun, though." I grinned. He looked at me suspiciously, and I could practically see his mind flashing with images of Daryl and me together. "God, no." I laughed. He sighed in relief and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. "It was nice getting drunk, though. I thought I would never taste the sweetness of alcohol again."

"I rather not talk about alcohol." He laughed, looking at me, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself last night and were safe." Yeah, the same can't be said about your wife, I thought internally but kept my lips sealed. It wasn't my business to tell.

"I don't know why you keep thinking Daryl and I are together." I shook my head, pushing away all thoughts of Lori and Shane. I can't stress about that now, "We had every opportunity to hook up last night, and nothing happened. We don't see each other like that." Rick stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me wide-eyed, processing what I had just said.

"What do you mean 'every opportunity to hook up?'" He asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. He walked forward and grabbed my hand, looking at me sternly. Why is he so concerned about that? It's not like Daryl forced himself on me. And even if something did happen, it's none of his business.