All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 46

Chapter 46

I wake up and he's next to me. Sleeping with his lips parted and his cheek smashed against the pillow. Even in this state he steals my breath away. I lay there for a few moments, not believing this is reality. For so long this was my dream and now I'm awake, and he's here next to me.

Abruptly, his eyes open; he smiles. I reach out to touch his cheek. His skin is soft against my touch. "I'm going to wake up Sam," I murmur.

"No, I got it." He throws the covers off, exposing his bare chest and the pair of shorts around his waist. I watch him as he disappears down the hall.

After rising to my feet, I change into jeans and a t-shirt. I go downstairs to begin making breakfast. The fridge is almost empty. We haven't had rations delivered since before the fight. I grab enough food from the fridge for Sam and Daryl. I'll skip breakfast.

Daryl's light footsteps come down the stairs, followed by Sam's clumsy ones. He places Sam in the highchair and then stands next to me as I pour a bag of cheerios into a bowl. He's close enough our shoulders touch. A knock comes from the door and he leaves my side to answer it.

It takes a moment for things to click. A knock. No one else comes to my door except Luke.

Luke.

Shit.

I sprint towards the door, tripping over Sam's toys as I go, almost landing on my face. I grab Daryl's bare shoulder, trying to push him out of the way. He stares at me, confused, before opening the door as if my random outburst meant nothing to him.

Luke stands on the porch, dressed in a baggy t-shirt and jeans. He looks at me and then at Daryl. Daryl's shirtless. I didn't brush my hair this morning.

Great.

"What do you want?" Daryl mutters.

I step in front of him. "Luke, I need to talk to you."

Luke stares at me, his face expressionless. I should have talked to him yesterday. I didn't think he'd get discharged so soon. My heart hammers in my chest. I remember Brady telling me Luke was crazy. He could hurt us. But Luke wouldn't do that. I know him. I know he's not like that.

I shut the door behind me, leaving Luke and I alone on the porch. "I'm sorry," I blurt.

He keeps staring at me. Hardly moves. Acts like I didn't say anything.

"He came back yesterday and I was going to talk to you. Would you please say something?" I demand.

He shakes his head. Remains silent for a few seconds. "It's okay. Not your fault," he mumbles, looking at the ground before his eyes meet mine again.

He's hurt. I've hurt him.

"I, um."

I'm not good at this; I don't know what to say. "I want you to know that I still think you're incredible. And I don't want to stop talking to you because of this, but I understand if you want time away from me right now."

"Did you sleep with him?" he asks.

"No," I answer truthfully.

He nods. "He's going to leave you again, you know. He's not the kind of guy who stays. And when he does, I don't know if I'll be here to put you back together again."

"He won't leave," I argue. "You don't know him." His comment pisses me off. He doesn't know anything about Daryl. He can't be throwing out accusations like that. He doesn't have the right to say anything. Even though he's set me off, I still want to take away the pain I've caused him. Because of him, I got through missing Daryl. Because of him, I realized I could be happy again. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this.