Meet Me In The Hallway

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"Just let me know, I'll be on the floor, on the floor. And maybe we'll work it out. I gotta get better."

Let me just start by saying that what happened last night was a mistake. Well, more like what happened a few hours ago. I didn't want to give in to him but there was something about the way he just looked at me that made me lose control. My plan was to just let it happen and in the morning we'd figure our shit out. But...after having sex and now lying half-naked in bed with Daryl, I didn't know how well everything was gonna play out.

He'd woken me up not long after we even got in bed. His warm lips pressed against my neck in all the right ways. No, wait...all the wrong ways? I didn't know. This was wrong, but I just didn't care. 

Daryl was laid half on his back, half on his side, at an in-between position. I laid the same way; my back cuddled to his chest. Daryl's outside arm roamed my side, every so often traveling further down past my hip, along my thigh and back up. I was just in a tank top and underwear, so the feeling of his skin lightly grazing mine was electrifying. 

Waking up more, I sighed and turned my head slightly. 

"What are you doing?" I asked in a whisper. 

"Nothin'," he grumbled mischievously in response. His hand slowly traveled to my nether region. I jolted slightly at the sudden pleasurable contact, shutting my eyes tightly and letting out a grunt-like exhale. 

"D, stop, there are people around," I warned. I felt him smirk against my skin. 

"Then you'll just have to be quiet." At this, he slid his hand underneath the thin fabric of my panties making me groan slightly. I tried to push his hand away, but I just didn't want to. Daryl used his free hand to cover my mouth, ensuring I kept quiet. 

And that's basically how it went; him fingering and pleasuring me until I came and then that was that. Mistake number two, I guess you could call it. 

But then the problem grew into we were meeting so much for moments like this. I lost track of the days because it happened so often. Needless to say, there were many handjobs, blowjobs, quickies, fingerings, eating-outs, and just plain, rough sex. There was lots of hair pulling, a lot of scratch marks--some of which caused bleeding, I might add--and hidden hickeys so no one would get suspicious. It was like all of the pent-up rage and stress came out through these sexual actions between the two of us. I certainly didn't mind the feeling, but I didn't think it was how we should be handling it. 

And every morning I would sit in bed for a number of minutes thinking about what we'd done and regret it but not regret it. I kept telling myself, "today's the day we sort it out" and then Daryl and I would avoid all sorts of contact until "after hours." 

I didn't know who to talk to about it. Everyone had their own shit to deal with. Rick was slowly losing his mind and Hershel and I even talked about our concern for his mental state, Glenn and Maggie were constantly busy, Rick and I still haven't really sorted things out, Carl's too young to understand, and I just flat-out didn't want to bother Carol. Who does that leave? Beth? Little Ass Kicker? Michonne? I didn't know if they'd get it...Beth and Michonne, I mean. Or at least I didn't know if they'd know how to help in any way. 

It was the early evening and I'd finally had enough of this. I didn't know what else to do, so I just went to the office. My intention was to just sort it all out; how to bring it up to Daryl, how to work this out, but the little devil on my shoulder was telling me to go and finish the bourbon and do it all that way. And, unfortunately, that's what I chose to do. 

I went unarmed, only taking a flashlight with me. Once the door shut behind me, I rushed to unscrew the bottle cap. I took a couple desperate gulps, feeling the liquid send a buzzing feeling down my chest. I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall and relishing the feeling as I slid down to sit. Leaning my head back and taking another sip, I let my thoughts take me over.

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