As we slowly made our way towards the forest just a little way from the house, I noticed a figure walking towards us in the corner of my eye.
"Daryl!" The man called roughly.
Shane.
I tried my best to ignore him, instead attempting to continue walking as though I'd never heard him. To my frustration, Daryl turned his head to see what the voice wanted.
He stopped walking, waiting impatiently as the giant man stormed towards us. After what I saw last night, I felt less safe around Shane than before.
"What?" He demanded from where he stood, looking more than a little annoyed.
"You still going with Rick to send the kid off?" Shane questioned, still taking small steps to where Daryl and I were waiting. I guessed they were talking about Randall.
"Yeah. Wha's it to you?" Daryl stood straighter now, gripping the strap on his shoulder.
"Just wondering." Shane nodded his head coolly, "And where are you taking her?"
"I'm goin' hunting. Rick thought it'd be nice if we played catch-up," Daryl grunted, nodding to me as he said the last sentence. I stared down at the thin blades of grass beneath my feet, uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.
"Shouldn't you be getting the truck loaded? Preparing for stuff?" He asked Daryl. He took a step towards me, his eyes focused on mine. I glanced over to Daryl in worry. "I'll take her."
Something didn't feel right for a second, as Shane's eye twitched slightly when he was watching me silently beg Daryl to help me. I didn't want to be alone in a forest with Shane, especially if he had weapons and I didn't.
"Nah..." Daryl casually blew off Shane's request. I almost let out a sigh of relief, even though I could still feel Shane's terrifying glare on my face."We're goin' this afternoon." He crossed his arms stubbornly. He wasn't going to shift on the subject, which made me feel so relieved.
I could feel myself shift closer to the man, feeling a sense of protection from Daryl that I hadn't felt in a long time.
"You sure? I mean, you've probably got better things to do with your time, man," Shane pushed, his eyes wandering back to Daryl's. "I'll take her hunting."
Daryl went uncharacteristically tense from beside me, looking straight back at Shane with questioning eyes. Daryl must have seen the fifty shades of crazy that seemed to glimmer in his dark eyes.
"'S fine." Daryl said, more firm in his tone this time. I felt his clammy hand grip my forearm, pulling me after him as we both walked the rest of the few metres into the safety of the forest.
Once I was sure we were alone, I let out a loud breath.
After Daryl realised he was still holding my arm, he dropped it immediately. My knees were still shaking from the confrontation.
"I seriously thought you were going to leave me with him," I whispered, mindlessly rubbing my forearm. "He hates me."
He didn't answer, walking ahead of me, his breathing rugged. As the leaves crinkled under my tired feet, I suddenly remembered the idea I still held in my head, in attempting to prove Daryl wrong. The first thing he had snapped at me for was walking too loudly.
He still hadn't said a word to me, instead preferring to move silently through the trees. I followed him, successfully managing to keep the volume of my footsteps to a minimum. It was hard at first, but I learnt to step on the spots of ground that weren't totally piled with leaves.
"What are you doing?" Daryl grumbled, turning his head sideways slightly to watch me sneaking through the forest floor. I was stretched between two spots of clear soil, my arms raised slightly to aid with balance.
"I'm... I'm walking silently." I sounded confused, phrasing the statement more as a question.
"You don't have to do that." He shook his head, turning back to face where he was walking.
Forgetting my idea as instantly as I'd started it, I stopped edging forward and went to walk beside him, my shoulder accidentally brushing against his as I passed him. He stepped away slightly, obviously uncomfortable with standing so close to me.
My embarrassed frown was evident as I tucked my hands into the front pocket of my jumper, hiding my face behind the large strand of knotted hair that had come loose from my ponytail.
"If you're, uh, not hunting..." I paused for effect, watching as his face remained neutral, staring ahead. "Do you think you could teach me how to fight?" The words tumbled from my lips, catching both Daryl and I by surprise.
He turned to glare at me, the reaction I had actually been expecting.
I hadn't really given much thought as to what I had just said, but I knew it may have been for the best. After all, I had to learn how to protect myself, especially after what had just happened with Shane. I wanted to feel safe.
"I-I'm serious about it this time. I really want to learn how to... How to fight." It technically was a spur-of-the-moment thing, something I'd decided on... Just because I could. If it was something I actually could achieve, then of course learning how to fight would be worth it. But if it didn't work out, Daryl truly would hate me.
"No."
"Please?" I really didn't know what brought on this sudden decision. It could've been the fact that I was sick of being defenceless in front of these people, even though they weren't really a threat anymore. Or, it could've been because I didn't want to see another dead little squirrel.
"After the last time?" Daryl shook his head again, scuffing the ground beneath his foot to kick a small nut that lay on the leafy floor. "Hell, no."
"Last time you didn't even teach me. If you'd just--"
"Damn it, Amy. I said no."
Daryl seemed to realise he'd said my name, as I looked up at his face, giving him a smug grin. I couldn't even attempt to control it, especially as he gulped back his apparent discomfort.
"I don't even want to use a gun. They're loud and violent," I persuaded him. Or attempted to, because on the inside I was laughing at his tomato-red face.
"What do you think fighting is? Quiet and peaceful?" He seethed, his accent coming into full play. He averted my pleading eyes. "You're not gonna handle it."
"Why should you get to say what I'm capable of?" I argued back. Our walking slowed to a stop, as he turned to me in anger. "You said I was a 'dead girl walking' and that I wasn't going to survive ... and God knows what else. But, here I am. I proved you wrong. I'm alive!" My voice rose in pitch as I said the last two words, before adding, "And I want to stay that way."
I couldn't help the anger radiating from me, which also emanated from him, the both of us too stubborn to step down.
"So, so... Help me. I want to be able to fight those things, and the bad people in this world. Hell, I've been stuck with a group of them since the start of all this. I just want a chance."
"A chance for what? A chance to pussy out again? I'm not gonna waste my time on you." He took a step forward, and we were practically face-to-face now. I stared up at him, my chest heaving.
I wasn't going to give up this time, or back down.
We both held the intense stare. I was so close to his face I could see the flecks of the lightest shade of green in his blue eyes, that centred towards his iris, the heavy bags under his eyes... the sweat glistening on his still-red cheeks. He seemed to be doing the same as me, analysing every inch of my face, as though we were sizing each other up.
His lips were pressed firmly together, in a deep scowl that consumed the softness of his features, giving him a definite hardened look about him.
"Fine," He spat, still not moving an inch. I could feel his warm breath fan over my face, as he tried his best to intimidate me, to get me to change my mind in the last moment.
It didn't work, instead all I could think about was how close he was standing to me. Our chests were almost touching, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body as I held my ground.
The energy between us was electrifying, my heart was beating much too quickly to be normal.
"Thank you," I muttered, my eyes still boring into his.
He broke eye contact first, stepping away from me with a small frown on his lips. I was half-expecting him to walk away again, but this time he paused to wait for me.
I didn't know what to expect from this unpredictable man. One minute he was terrifying, the next he was quiet and hidden.
We continued to walk in silence, the only sound to be heard was the crinkling of leaves under my sneakers, and the irritating chirps of the birds overhead.
We reached some kind of destination that Daryl found suitable, another little clearing in the forest.
I walked to the centre of the moderately sized clearing, surveying the area nervously. To my satisfaction, there wasn't a thick tree line so I could watch out for any roamers that decided to pay a visit.
I looked over to Daryl, who had lowered his crossbow the same time I had relaxed my shoulders.
"I want to learn how to ... uh, kill silently." I stumbled for words. I didn't like the fact that I'd be killing those people, but as Carl had said in the shed the other day, these things aren't people anymore. "No guns."
Daryl shrugged, quickly walked towards me while pulling a knife from under his belt.
He didn't throw it this time, which was a start.
We briefly brushed hands, as he passed me the metal handle of the smallest little knife I'd ever seen. In fact, it barely even felt like a handle, as it was so thin and light. Daryl was still slightly red, for reasons unknown to me. What was so bad about me that he can't even make simple human contact?
I glanced down at the little knife, avoiding Daryl's eyes so he couldn't see the embarrassment on my face.
There was a small DD carved onto the light plastic handle.
"Is this your bra size?" I laughed, holding the knife up.
I was anticipating a laugh from the man, or even a smile. Anything to acknowledge my admittedly dorky joke.
It wasn't hard to annoy him, in all honesty. It seemed like I was the main reason for his annoyance seventy-five percent of the time.
"This is stupid." Daryl shook his head angrily, walking back the way he came.
I quickly ran after him, my laughter cut short. I grabbed hold of long sleeve of his dark blue shirt, in an attempt to make him stop walking away.
"Wait! No, please don't go," I pleaded, watching his face as he turned his head around to meet my eyes. He was in a terrible mood, I could see. He had just lost one of his group members, and here I was, pestering him.
"You're not serious about this. This is 'nother waste of my time," He growled. "And no one's got time around here to be wasting."
"I'm sorry. I'll be serious. I-I am serious about this..."
"I'm scared, okay? I'm so scared, all the time," I said, watching as Daryl continued to look down at me, "And, and I'm sick of it. I want to be able to fight, and stand up for myself, and take charge of a situation."
Daryl turned back to me, his eyes narrowing at mine. I could feel my knees wobble as beneath me from the tension as I continued.
"I want to be able to defend myself when someone tries to hurt me, or my family. And I don't want to depend on anyone anymore."
"I just want to feel safe again." My voice sounded strange in my head, only adding to the tightening feeling in my chest. "So please, help me, Daryl."
He looked conflicted, turned halfway between the forest and me. With a sharp stare and a roll of the eyes, he dropped his crossbow from his shoulder, placing it on the floor beside him.
"Tha's a throwing knife." He pointed to the small weapon in my hand. I was amazed that he'd actually listened to me.
Maybe, just maybe, he was different to what I'd first thought of him.
Maybe.
I held it loosely in my hand, watching the metal of the blade reflect in the sunlight.
"It's balanced evenly, so when you throw it, it'll go straight." He paused, using this moment to take the little knife from my hand. It was a very Daryl-y explanation, and they only ever made sense to him. There was not enough information for me to actually understand what the hell he was talking about.
He gripped the knife in his hand, turning so he could focus on a fitting target.
A thick tree trunk was just a few metres away, a fitting practice target for him.
In almost a split second, he pulled the knife to the other side of his head, before hurling it at the tree with all of his strength.
The blade whizzed forward through the air silently, before it wedged itself in the wooden trunk.
How he managed to do that in the space of two or three seconds was beyond me.
I blinked back my disbelief, as Daryl let out a shallow breath that he'd been holding in.
I went to grab the knife from the tree, pulling the blade with some difficulty, as it was pushed in pretty far.
The strength it must have taken to throw it that quickly, and that hard, was something I'd never be able to muster.
"I won't be able to do that," I stated the obvious, walking back with the knife in hand.
"Try." Daryl stood back, watching as I readied myself.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quite remember how he had stood, how he held the little knife, of just how exactly to aim.
"I-I can't."
"Fine." Daryl started towards his crossbow again.
"I don't know how to do anything, when you just stand there barking orders at me!" I yelled, annoyance clear in my tone. "How am I supposed to learn with you standing behind me with your arms crossed?"
If he walked away one more time...
He looked so reluctant, so annoyed. I still had no idea why he was still here if he didn't want to be; it didn't seem like something Daryl would do. Yet, there he was, grunting and walking back towards me. He scowled angrily, and I tried my best to avoid that stare.
I turned to face the tree again, standing towards the trunk.
With my shaking hand, I pulled the knife back to aim for the tree, one eye closed so I could see better.
Daryl's presence was much clearer now, I could feel him standing closely behind me.
"Your hand is on the wrong side of your head." He snapped, pulling my hand to the opposite side. The cold feeling of metal against my bare neck made me jump slightly. I wasn't expecting the blade to be so close to my skin.
The feeling of his hand gently resting on mine was strange, it sent tiny tingles down my arm as I watched his fingers cautiously. It was like I was aware of every movement he made as he stood this close to me.
"Keep both eyes open..." He muttered, "Tha's how you keep your depth perception when you're throwin'."
I could feel his breath tickle my exposed neck, his fingers ensuring that the weapon was held tightly in my hand.
This all must have seemed completely normal to him, even though to me it was anything but. For someone who didn't like to make human contact, the thrill of hunting, preparing to kill, must have overridden his desire to avoid me.
I gripped the knife tightly, before noticing his other hand move to my stomach.
"And you're facing the wrong way." He was still talking gruffly, reluctantly, as if everything was normal. Inside my stomach was a chaos of too many different sensations to count, but most noticeably the faint shiver that seemed to travel around my body. "Ya gotta stand on your side to aim, see?"
Goosebumps were rising on my flesh, and I was thankful that he couldn't see them because of the cover my baggy jumper provided. My breathing increased to insane levels, and I couldn't believe how oblivious Daryl was to how he was making me feel.
I could barely hold the weapon in my sweaty hand as he guided me sideways.
"When you aim, you gotta mean it." He pulled my hand back, and then lightly pushed it forward so my arm straightened, in an example of how I was supposed to actually throw the knife, his other hand still on my stomach, ensuring I remained still.
"I've got to... What?" I whispered, my focus completely off-topic and scattered.
"Are you even listening?" He growled in my ear. I shuddered back from the loudness of it, losing my focus once again.
"S-Sorry..."
"Aim for the kill." He restated shortly, his hand still holding my arm so it was pointing at the tree trunk.
I was very aware that his other arm hand was still on my hip, sending shockwaves through my body as I tried to remain as calm as possible.
Daryl then pulled my arm back to my neck, and again I could feel the cool of the blade, before pushing my arm back out towards the tree, reinforcing his previous example.
"Was that easier for you?" He scowled, stepping back.
The sudden lack of warmth emanating from his body was strange, as I wasn't aware of it beforehand.
"Y-Yes. Thank you," I stuttered, trying to regain some composure.
"What are ya waiting for, then?" Daryl snapped as he crossed his arms. I couldn't meet his eyes.
"Oh... Right," I muttered, adjusting my feet so I was side-on with the tree.
I slowly turned my head back to the trunk, my breathing rapid and my hand still trembling. I held the lightweight knife in my right hand, ensuring I was holding it properly. I didn't want the to throw it for the blade to fall short.
Lifting the knife to my neck, I could faintly hear Daryl shuffling on his feet behind me. I wanted to do this properly so I could prove to him that I wasn't a waste of time.
The wind was picking up, which was probably going to make it harder to hit my target. My eyes were trained solely on the little cut on the wooden trunk, that was left when Daryl hit the tree.
I let out a deep breath, preparing to muster the strength to actually throw the thing that far. I pulled the knife back tighter, feeling the blade press sharply against my neck so I knew where it was positioned, before flinging my arm forward with as much strength as I could gather.
The small knife left my hand almost as soon as I had my arm straightened, zipping forward with a faint whooshing sound.
It all happened so fast, I barely had time to register what had just happened. I blinked back my confusion, lowering my arm simultaneously.
Almost directly beside Daryl's imprint, hung the small knife.
"I did it!" I shrieked, turning to the man behind me. "I actually did it!"
Before I could stop myself, or give myself time to rethink my decision, I threw my arms around his neck in excitement.
My head was resting against his chest, my cheek pressing against one of the top buttons of his shirt. He had a certain smell to him, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but more of leaves and sweat.
He stood stiffly in my grip, frozen to the spot.
His breathing was rapid, as I could hear his heartbeat thumping just beside my ear. I suspected it was because I practically scared the hell out of him, pouncing at him like that.
I was expecting him to shove me off, or to throw some kind of insult at me, but instead he just waited for me to release him as if I were some kind of dangerous wild animal.
There was a strange sensation of comfort in this embrace, even if I was the only one really feeling anything. The overwhelming sense of gratitude I felt for someone I had no idea about was slightly frightening, but I still couldn't bring myself to let him go.
The embrace was sweaty for both of us, and incredibly awkward and uncomfortable for Daryl, who didn't know exactly how to react. He sniffed loudly, his way of signalling that it was time for me to get off him, in his own way.
I pulled back from him, too nervous to say anything else as his intense blue eyes stared down at me questioningly. His face was a picture of extreme confusion and embarrassment, his cheeks bright red, eyes squinted, lip slightly curled.
I anticipated an insult, of some kind of humiliating comment.
Instead, he remained silent which, in some way, was just as terrifying as his insults.
I couldn't meet his eyes anymore, so I turned to go and grab my knife from the tree, my legs wobbling once again as I walked. It wasn't buried as deep as Daryl's knife was, but it was still pretty hard to release.
I felt so self-conscious as I made my way back to him. His eyes were still starting down at mine, as though he was still trying to figure me out.
"Could I-" I coughed, my voice coming out squeaky and choked. I attempted the sentence again, not meeting his glare. "Could I keep this?"
I held up the knife, the light reflecting from the sun and glinting into his eye. This seemed to pull him back into reality, his eyes scanning the blade.
"Yeah, whatever," He coughed gruffly, in an attempt to be casual, as he straightened his back.
He made his way towards his crossbow, remaining stony and silent. Daryl quickly plucked it from the grass, holding the weapon in his hand loosely.
He turned to me, wordlessly telling me to follow him.
I did follow, hanging a little way behind. There was no way to escape the tension now. He was probably thrown off-guard by my strange behaviour, something that Daryl probably wasn't used to.
I decided to break the silence.
"You never told me your last name," I pressed, dodging a particularly large root that would have tripped me up.
"Tha's because I'm not gonna." He stared ahead.
"Are you embarrassed about it?"
"No."
"Then why won't you tell me?"
"Because I don't wanna," He spat, turning to look at me. "I don't know you. I don't like you. Stop being such a nosy little bitch."
"Whoa..." I breathed, looking down at the ground. I should've known not to push him.
Was this what Daryl was like? The sudden snarky insults and glares... The other side of him being awkward and quiet.
I hid my face from him, falling behind to try and disguise the embarrassment and annoyance on my features.
This time, I welcomed the silence. I've learnt that at least when Daryl was silent I couldn't hear what he was thinking, unlike the poisonous insults that were thrown my way when he did speak.