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Jo

Daryl's interview was the shortest yet. I wondered if it had anything to do with the dead possum in his hand. The look on Deanna's face when they came back outside made me think so. I bit on the inside of my lip to keep from laughing as I watched him come out of the door. His shoulders were tense and he looked uncomfortable but he was lightly swinging the possum in his left hand. He jogged down the stairs without a backwards glance at Deanna. She was watching after him, frowning. Seemed I wasn't the only one who found themselves confused by Daryl Dixon. 

He walked straight over to where I was sitting in the grass. I was leaning back on my hands, my legs out in front of me with my ankles crossed. Daryl dropped the possum next to me before he sat down into the grass beside me without a word. He seemed more relaxed than I thought possible with us being in a new place. He waited until Rick sent the next person in for their interview before he turned to me. 

"How did it go?" I asked him before he was able to say anything. 

A ghost of a smirk crossed his lips and he jerked his chin towards the dead possum. "It was short." 

I turned to him and arched a disapproving brow while fighting back a smile. "Did you scare the poor woman?" 

They were civilians, every last one of them. They would have never survived outside the walls. 

He snorted. "No, did you?" 

I scoffed. "O f course not, I'm nothing but an academic and a house wife. I was charming and meek, just like I'm supposed to be." 

His smile fell and he pinched his mouth into a grim line. His eyes met mine and I could see the flickers of regret there. He immediately closed off his emotions and he looked away. I instantly regretted ruining our fun together. Now he was tense again. I sighed and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. After a few minutes Daryl got back up and resumed his pacing of the perimeter. 

An hour later two people came around the side of the house. One was a woman in her twenties or thirties who was overweight with a kind smile. The other was a good looking young man in his twenties. The woman was pushing a cart loaded down with food. The man was following at a discrete distance behind her, his hand resting dramatically on the handgun at his waist.  

"Hello?" the woman called tentatively, trying to get the attention of the group. Only a couple people glanced her way, their gaze zeroing in on the cart of food. 

Aaron, who had been quietly speaking with Rick jumped to his feet. "Everyone," he called to us. Everyone in the group stopped what they were doing and looked over at him. He gestured behind him. "I would like to introduce you all to Olivia. She runs the pantry and inventory here." 

The man behind Olivia cleared his throat in annoyance when Aaron said nothing about him. Aaron's eyes moved to him and his shoulders tensed. "And...this is Aidan, Deanna's youngest son." It was very clear from Aaron's body language he didn't think very much of Aidan. 

Aidan stepped forward with a swagger and smiled to all of us. He ran his eyes quickly over the group, hesitating over Rosita, Maggie and I. I didn't think very much of him either. 

"Hello everyone," Olivia greeted uncertainly. "I brought lunch," she said. "It's not much,  just some sandwiches and cookies..." she pushed the cart closer but no one made a move to get up, instead they were all staring at the bottles of water and pile of sandwiches. There was more than enough for each of us. It was more food than most of us had seen in a long time. 

Last One Standing ~ TWD Daryl DixonWhere stories live. Discover now