Opposites Attract (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

A Friend

His hands carried the sharp hatchet and reached for some pieces of wood. The weather had stayed the same during those weeks, the day was hot and the night was freezing cold. But luckily the house had a fireplace. In the end, your friend did not told you to leave, and you thought you were both happy to find each other again because none of you would like to be alone no matter how hard it was to admit it. And now this kind of cooperation has started. Living together, if you can call it that. You hunted and went on expeditions... In short, you did not lack food. The house was solid and safe. A few Walkers bumped against the door now and then, but you had managed to eradicate them bit by bit. Nevertheless, you were neither happy nor relieved, you had learned not to enjoy situations as optimally as they could be, because you did not want to be disappointed if another misfortune happened.

'There is always a storm lurking behind a calm sea...'

You stacked the logs in a box and returned to the house. When you arrived, you kindled the fire and then sat down on the ground next to it. The window that you had broken, you had provided some boards to it, but unfortunately there was still draught. You cooked over the flame some birds that you had impaled. Your friend had told you he had lost his family from the beginning, he had been in a group and spent a year with them in Macon. Then things went bad and they had to flee in different ways. A bit like what happened to you... In the end there were only two of them left, he and his now dead friend. You had interviewed each other in the first few days as if you wanted to speed some kind of forced friendship, but at least you had avoided questions about the future. You only knew what you needed to know. When you had the opportunity, you returned to the place where you had buried Hershel. You had promised yourself that you would never think of it, but you could not forget it. Part of you hoped with all your heart that the group of Rick Grimes was safe, that they were fine. You knew that it was very unlikely that it was impossible for everyone to be alive. Of course you would never see them again, but at least you hoped they had made it and survived.

"You miss your people, right?", your friend suddenly asked you, interrupting your thoughts.

"I hardly knew these people, I don't want to think about it.", you replied.

"I don't believe you, I know-...", he began, but you interrupted him: "No, you're wrong."

"I thought we could look for them, in short, as you described them, they seem to be good people, I can not believe you think they didn't survive, maybe we could survive here together as a group. We could even build another shed."

"Do you really believe the bullshit you say?"

He looked annoyed at you: "It was just an idea... It is possible that they haven't lost too much."

"And what could you do with it? You always said that you no longer want to be part of a group and I don't want to know these people anymore."

"Yes, that's true, but I'm not stupid, I know that with the excuse of hunting you're going to the grave of the old man."

"Even if they were still alive, it would be a miracle to find them again, it was a few weeks ago, they might already be far away, or dead."

He stood up: "If you really believed that they were dead, you would have said it immediately, you ignore the discussion of where they might be, stop lying to yourself!"

You stared at him. It seemed to you that he could read your actual thoughts... But he understood that the conversation was over now, because you would never have agreed to look for them. It was just too risky. Needless to make the situation worse, you just had to take advantage of the silence of that moment. It seemed like an idyllic break and you wouldn't have broken it again. With a full stomach, you threw yourself in the chair and hugged your legs at the height of your chest. You watched the animation of the flames, the shades of that glowing, hot spring. The man lay down on the sofa and folded his hands behind his head. The sweatshirt, though very tall, made his muscles appear.