Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 62 - Ravenous

I bit down hard on my lip, grimacing at the tightness of this long silence.

The night's sky was bright, illuminating the bonnet of the truck with sparkles that reflected the hundreds of stars overhead.

The engine thrummed and the seats creaked with every bump in the road, but not a word was shared between Daryl and I.

He'd been in a mood since I asked for his help, and after I'd explained where the shack was, he went back to a stone cold silence.

My eyes fell on the glovebox just in front of my knees. That's where I used to keep my CDs in my car.

I looked over to Daryl, who gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Something was up with him, and it was starting to irritate me.

Fuck it.

I pulled open the glovebox, pushing aside an empty water bottle and a paperback street directory.

An old leather CD wallet case, three scrumpled receipts and an empty paper bag from McDonald's remained.

I grabbed for the wallet, my ears hungry for something other than silence.

Daryl only peered across, his lips twitching in annoyance.

Nirvana, Pearl Jam... Some band called Alice in Chains... Foo Fighters, Soundgarden.

I sniffed slowly as I continued to flicker through a bunch of CDs from a bunch of bands I didn't recognise.

I let out a laugh, holding up Britney Spears' "In the Zone".

"Hey Daryl, fancy listening to some real music?" I quipped, looking over at him.

"I will fuckin' turn this truck around," He dared, his voice warning me to stop talking. "Don't need t' be doin' this shit anyway."

"Jeez, okay..." I murmured, flipping to the next album. What kind of person goes from Nirvana to Britney Spears?

I liked looking through the CDs, noticing that amongst the old 80s rock albums were the Spice Girls, Avril Lavigne...

I guessed whoever owned this old truck had a teenage daughter.

Finally, a familiar album.

"I'm putting this on and I don't care what you say," I murmured, slipping the CD from it's clear plastic sleeve.

"Fuck, you're annoyin'." Daryl growled.

"Fuck, you're annoying." I taunted, doing my best impression of his accent.

Daryl bit down on his lower lip, holding back what was sure to be something cutting.

"Hope you like Red Hot Chilli Peppers..." I shook my head slightly, slipping the CD onto my finger.

"Thought you didn't like that kind'a music," Daryl murmured.

My cheeks went red.

I'd droned on so often to him about my whole life, thinking he wasn't listening.

In fact, I told him most things because I thought he wasn't listening...

He must've remembered it all.

"Well I don't really, but my brother did. And it's this or the Spice Girls..." I snorted, watching as his lips twitched.

"What album?" He asked slowly.

"Do you listen to them?" I answered his question with a question, something that always irritated Daryl.

"Nah, heard of 'em though," He shrugged. I noticed his death grip on the wheel had loosened.