Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 34 - Warmer

"Um, Daryl?" I pushed my arms back into their sleeves, before scrambling to get off from the metal bed. When my feet touched the ground, I was surprised to find they didn't sink entirely into the snow like they usually did. "W-What are we doing?"

"What?" He demanded almost instantly, turning back again. I was beginning to feel really nervous as to how he was going to react to what I wanted to say.

"I mean... Why are you ignoring me?" I felt I had to clarify myself a bit more than that, "Y'know, more than the usual."

Daryl looked impatient as he stared away, out behind me to where the street sign had been knocked down.

"I... I don't want to embarrass myself."

"You already are," He snapped, his words sending a cold feeling through my chest that could have out-frozen the icy tundra surrounding us.

"How? How am I embarrassing myself right now?" I asked, my voice raising slightly in my sudden anger. I felt as though someone had shoved a cotton ball down my throat, and I tried my best to swallow that feeling. "D'you, do you see this, Daryl? See how I'm acting? This is how a normal person talks about their feelings."

"Feelings?" His face screwed up in annoyance as he said this, reminding me of just how cold and unattached he'd been. "You want me to talk about my feelings with ya?"

"No! I want you to listen to me, when I say that I have feelings for you," I blurted, the words rolling off of my tongue before I could stop them.

His face paled slightly, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes before they almost instantly hardened again, narrowing down at me.

"And I want you to tell me what the hell I'm doing with my life, following you around when you won't say a single word to me," I croaked, that cotton-ball-in-my-throat feeling tightening immensely. "B-Because I can't just sit here and watch you pretend like you don't care about anything or anyone."

"You saved my life!" I added quickly, "You saved me that day at the farm, and you took me hunting and taught me to use my knives, and you dragged me away that time with Rick..."

"Yet you play this whole 'I ain't a hero' bullshit on me, trying to look tough with your stupid face and your stupid accent and your stupid, stupid, stupid eyes!"

"Tha's the thing, ain't it?" He snapped his head back from where he was staring away, his jaw clenched with frustration. "I ain't any good for ya."

I rolled my eyes, brushing a loose hair from my vision with my wobbling fingers. "You don't get to decide what's good for me or not."

"I don' know what you want from me, woman!" He spat, taking a step towards me, pointing his stupid finger at me like he always did when trying to intimidate me. "You want someone to hold your hand? Braid your hair? Take ya for long walks into the sunset? Go find someone else to do it, because I ain't."

"I-I never asked you to do any of those things," I said, my voice lowering as he stared down on me. I did know Daryl wasn't one for affection, and that maybe I'd pushed him a little far. "Just... Just talk to me."

"This is me talkin'! Do ya like it? Am I a 'nice' enough person for ya, Amy?" He sounded like he was mocking me, but there was a hint of hurt in his voice that I couldn't quite understand.

My lips began to wobble slightly, but I refused to walk away.

"N-No. This isn't you..." I whispered, as he shuffled on his feet angrily. "You are so much better than this... I know you are. I've seen you be gentle, I've seen you be brave... I've seen you mad, I've seen you making jokes to brighten the mood. You're a good guy. Don't pretend you're anything different."