Witchcraft | A Daryl Dixon Love Story

Running in Circles

This was weird, wasn't it? It had to be. There's no way it wasn't. ...But was it? No, no, it definitely was. But waaaas ittttt?

Ever since I had told Daryl I loved him, the week had been nothing but walks in the forest, hunting and tracking excursions, runs into town, and late night conversations; just the two of us. Don't get me wrong, Daryl always maintained a certain scruffy edge about him as to not seem too soft, but I could tell he was definitely letting himself get softer. Around me, at least. And as much as I enjoyed a mushy gushy Daryl, I had to say, spying on him between splintered wood as he beat the living hell out of a guy he wanted to protect the group from was hitting different.

I never thought violence was a turn on, but there I was, unable to pull my eyes away. And maybe it wasn't the violence in general, but the fact that the violence was being used as a precautionary threat. Stay the hell away from my people. Maybe it was because Daryl was protecting us. If the evolutionary psychology course I took back at university taught me anything it was that women are subconsciously attracted to traits that ensured survival, and while I never thought much of it while dating back before the world went to shit, it sure was hitting me now. Of course, I started to like Daryl well before I had seen him in action. All it took was a few sarcastic remarks and a long truck ride up a mountain outside of Atlanta for me to become enamored by him. But I always found myself staring whenever he jumped to save my ass. I'm telling you, primal desires hit different. It made me feel like an evolutionary pawn, but damn-

"Enjoy the show, princess?"

Well, maybe not a very good evolutionary pawn if I was too caught up in drooling over Daryl's bloody knuckles to notice that he had fully exited the barn and was standing right beside me as I stood, hands cupped against the splintered wood to cushion my face for a more comfortable view.

"I'm... not here..." I said, voice uncertain as I sheepishly turned to face the brooding redneck.

"You ain't here?" Daryl scoffed, smirking with an eyebrow raised, "Drool on yer chin says otherwise," he said cooly, laughing as my eyes went wide and my hand went up to my mouth so fast that I nearly smacked myself only to find that there was, in fact, no drool there at all.

"You jackass," I muttered, narrowing my eyes playfully, "My turn to throw punches now!" I laughed as I lunged toward him as fast as I could, only to be caught in his arms but a moment later.

"Gonna hav'ta try harder n' that," his whisper was gruff in my ear as he flung me over his shoulder and made his way toward the group, "Why you watchin' me anyway?"

"I dunno... Kinda hot," my voice fell quieter after each word, I hoped almost inaudible, as my cheeks grew warmer.

"Kinda what? I ain't hear ya."

"Kindahot," louder, but faster this time.

"One more time," Daryl egged on, but I could tell he heard me even the first time by the tone in his voice.

"You know what the fuck I said!" I laughed, lightly whipping him on the back, "Now put me down already!"

"Why, so you can stare at me s'more?," I could tell he was gonna screw with me about this for as long as he could manage, "Kinda weird yer into that kinda thing," he finished his sarcastic remark with side-eye.

"Says the one who kissed me directly after I broke Andrea's nose," I rolled my eyes as we approached the group, cutting my comeback short as I noticed Rick gesturing towards Daryl, probably expecting a status report on our recent problem.