"You're my family, too," Daryl muttered, finally confirming my suspicions that he cared for me just as much as I cared for him. From an outsider's point of view, it may seem like Daryl, and I have a budding romance, but that's far from what's happening. He may not be my blood, but he's my family. I smiled at him and leaned down, gently hugging him. Daryl didn't hug me back, but he also didn't push me away, which was a win in my eyes. The door opened, and Rick peeked in, catching my eye.

"Dinner." That was all he said as he left the room, leaving the door ajar for me. I pulled away from Daryl and wiped my eyes, erasing any signs that I may have been crying.

"I'll bring you some dinner right now," I told him, earning a nod from him. I stood and crossed the room, gently closing the door behind me. I turned down the hall and entered the fragrant kitchen, observing the group as I entered. A seat was open next to Andrea, but I would rather eat with the horses than sit next to her. A scowl spread across my face, and I leaned against a wall.

Dale, the observant man he was, noticed how I refused to sit, rose to his feet, his plate in hand, and sat next to the blonde demoness. The spot next to T-Dog opened as a result, prompting me to move and sit next to him. Carol served me a plate and patted my shoulder as she returned to her seat. I grinned and viciously stabbed the piece of chicken on my plate, reminding myself to eat slowly as I popped it into my mouth. Who knew chicken, veggies, and mashed potatoes would have me drooling as much as it was? Sure, it wasn't anything special, but in a time where food is scarce, this is the equivalent of striking gold! As I ate, constantly reminding myself to chew, I kept my gaze down, purposely avoiding any wandering eyes. But I was especially avoiding Andrea. If I make eye contact with Andrea, I might lose it again, and I don't want to ruin Hershel's dining room. The entire room stayed quiet, the sounds of utensils hitting the plates echoing in my ears. I chewed, feeling the uncomfortable atmosphere all around us.

"Does anybody know how to play the guitar?" Glenn asked suddenly, making everyone stop and look at him. "Dale found a cool one. Somebody's got to know how to play."

"Otis did," Patricia answered, the room becoming somber as she spoke. I shoved more chicken and potatoes into my mouth and shook my head, wanting the silence to return.

"Yes, and he was very good, too," Hershel said as he took a bite from his plate. The room became silent once more, no one knowing what to say, and the tension between Andrea and me was palpable. She can apologize to Daryl, but I sure as hell won't forgive her. I took a final bite of my potatoes and cleared my throat, looking at Hershel.

"Thank you for the food." I silently said, "I'm going to go ahead and take a plate to Daryl." I stood up and pushed my chair back in, taking my plate so I could put it in the kitchen sink.

"I can take care of that," Carol said to me, our eyes meeting for the first time since I came to eat, "Can I take him the plate?" Well, that's one thing I don't have to do. I nodded and made a beeline toward the front door, needing fresh air.

"Thank you again, Hershel," I said as I swiftly exited the room. The door closed behind me, and I released a long-held breath. It was suffocating in there. I need to be alone for a bit. I descended the stairs and started walking toward my little corner of the farm, running my hand along the wooden fence as I went. Today has been emotionally draining. First, telling Carol about my past, Lori shared that she's pregnant, and to top it off, Daryl gets shot. How much more can I take today? I reached the end of the fence and groaned as I threw myself down onto the grass, the fresh wind blowing past me.

Although nothing serious happened to him, what would I have done if Daryl had died? Would I have killed Andrea? I mean, I did have my blade on her neck, ready to slash her throat, but could I kill someone so callously? One thing's for sure, if he had died, I couldn't stay here anymore. It wouldn't be the same. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel at ease when he's around. I know nothing can harm me as long as Daryl is around. He's my safety blanket, and I hope he feels the same about me. I know he loves me as much as I love him because if not, he would've already kicked my ass a hundred times over. I felt a stinging prick in my eyes, and I bit my lip, trying my hardest to blink away the tears that desperately wanted out. God damn, when did I turn into such a baby?

Dead Man Walking | Rick GrimesWhere stories live. Discover now