❝last man standing doesn't matter when it's a pile of bodies you're standing on. so you fight but you be good.❞
[twd seasons 1-?]
Ⓒ 2019║asgxrdians i own nothing except lindsey and her plot
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chapter nineteen: pointless arguing 7623 words
Lin woke up a few hours later, when the sun was first coming up over the trees and the morning dew was still dripping from the vinyl. The weight of an arm around her shoulders had her confused until she realized that Daryl pulling her into his side wasn't a dream. It had really happened. Her nightmare had woken her up, ripping her from the silky confines of sleep, and he'd still been awake for god knows why. He must have seen the panic in her eyes when he did it, not that she really minded. Daryl was warm and solid against her and when she tilted her head a little to look up at him, he was still asleep.
He had his head back at a slightly awkward angle, the back of it resting on the ground. And his mouth was open, breath rasping out from between his lips. He looked calm, that furrow between his brows gone and smoothed away in his sleep. He looked good and as much as she hated the cliché of it, he looked peaceful like this. Her hand was still up on his chest, his heart thumping beneath it. It felt good, right. His heart was strong and she wasn't even thinking about the muscle above it until he took a deeper breath, his pec flexing under her fingers. Shit.
She had no idea if anyone else in the farm was awake but she was willing to take the chance that at least someone was. She moved slow, trying not to wake him up as she did. He was no doubt a light sleeper now, if he wasn't before all of this dead walking around stuff. She didn't want to wake him up because he deserved the sleep. However, she must not have been slow enough because once she was sat all the way up, a hand touched her back. It was soft, a barely there touch. Lin sighed, realizing she'd woken him up.
"I'm sorry," she told him quietly, turning to face the man in question. His right hand was up behind his head, knotted in his lengthening hair. His other hand was raised up behind her, pointer finger aimed at the knobs of her spine. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Were going to no matter what ya did." He stroked her back again, as if just focused on how she felt at his probing touches. She couldn't imagine it was anything to be desired really. It wasn't like she was eating as good as she used to, or even just carrying herself the way she used to. He just wanted to let her talk about the night before, if she wanted to. It wasn't like he hated having her there because he really didn't. He also knew that nightmares sucked ass so he just waited. He was good at that, waiting on people. Way too good at it.
He only had to wait a few moments, keeping the way he looked at her kind, before she started talking. She wanted to tell him anyway.
"I haven't been getting nightmares as often as last night, maybe a few here and there but it was nothing bad." She brought a leg up to lean on. "I dreamt that we didn't find Dale, that he turned and just picked us off one by one. He got to Lori, Carl, Rick," she sighed and he could tell there was more that she wasn't telling him, "you," she finished. "It just grabbed you and got you right there in front of me and there was nothing I could do. I thought I was going to puke when I woke up."
