✓ A Future To Die For ↠ D. Dixon | The Walking Dead

2. Daryl's Messy Food

I hopped into the passenger side of Daryl's truck. He got in a few minutes later. The line of cars started moving then we did. We were silent for a bit when Daryl actually started speaking.

"How are you guys related. He looks nothing like you." I raised my eyebrows.

"And this concerns you why?" I asked suspiciously.

"I just want to make sure we can trust him." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared out the window. We didn't say anything for the rest of the way there. When the group did slow down, we were at a warehouse. The group started unloading and Adam laid mattresses on the floor. There was ten of us and only five full size mattresses. Do the math. People paired up and Daryl and I were the only ones left. I sighed and set my stuff on the bed. Daryl did the same.

"Don't try anything," I whispered at him. He glared at me and walked off. I leaned back onto the bed and looked up. The ware house was huge and there was a tall fence around the property. I could see myself staying here for awhile. I continued to lay here until I felt the mattress be pulled out from underneath me. I looked up and saw Daryl.

"What the fuck was that for?" I asked him angrily. He half smiled at me.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" I picked up a pillow and started repeatedly hitting him with it. He yanked the pillow from my grasp and hit me back. We stopped fighting when he hit me in the nose, causing it to bleed. He saw my nose then handed me a handkerchief. He sat me down on the bed, looking very guilty when he joined me. My nose stopped bleeding after about five minutes.

"I didn't mean-" he started to say but I cut him off.

"It's fine. It was just a little nosebleed. It isn't going to kill me." He stood up and gave me one last look before walking away. I touched my nose and cringed. I think he broke my nose with a fucking pillow!

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We sat at a table, eating something that I had no idea what it was. I could only eat half of it before I pushed it away.

"Are ye going to eat that?" Daryl asked me. I shook my head and pushed the bowl towards him. He ate the rest of it in about a minute. Some of it was stuck in his whiskers. It was kinda cute. Wait, what the hell am I saying? I've only have known Daryl for two days and now I think he's cute. What the fuck is wrong with me? Oh, wait, I'm insane.

Daryl wiped the food from his face and left the table. I got up from the table and headed to the bed area. Daryl was sitting on the mattress, cleaning knives. He looked up as I sat beside him.

"What do ye want?" I was taken aback by his sudden harshness.

"Nothing," I said quietly.

"Then how 'bout you go away?"

"I've got nothing to do. Might as well watch you play with knives." He put his current knife down.

"Are ye going to follow me around like a lost puppy or are you going to be some use?" he asked, thrusting a knife into my hand.

"Now clean it, woman." I shot him a nasty look and started cleaning the knife. After about a minute, the knife was ripped out of my hand.

"Your not doing it right," he said, sounding annoyed. I sighed loudly.

"Teach me how to do it since your such an expert." He glared at me like I just insulted his religion or something.

"I thought you were from West Virginia. Shouldn't you know how to do this already?" I rolled my eyes at him.

"First of all, that's a little stereotypical. Second, how did you know I was from West Virginia?" He looked towards the floor.

"You have a West Virginian accent. Not much of one though," he said.

"I haven't been to West Virginia in over ten years. My family moved to California when I was about nine." I grew quiet. I usually didn't talk about my family's move.

"Do ye miss it?" he asked, sounding like he cared.

"Yeah, I had cousins and grandparents there." Daryl looked at me, hoping I would continue. When I didn't, he started talking.

"I lost my mom when I was seven." What he said caught me off guard.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered.

"Don't be. She brought it on herself. She caught the house on fire from smoking." I placed my hand on his, but he pulled away.

"I gotta clean these knives." Daryl picked up his stuff and walked out of the room. I laid on the bed, getting situated for the night. That could've gone way better.