Don’t Let Go
Daryl finds himself a drink, getting drunk and finding you in the shower.
- Daryl Dixon x Reader
- 798 Words
- No warnings
The water is cool, but that’s how you like it. It falls over you like a veil, protecting you from what is out there in the world, all the dangers and frights. It’s all too much for you to handle, always has been. You don’t know how much longer you can deal with humanity dying out.
You’ve always been lucky enough to be surrounded by people who take care of you and to have them allow you to return the favor. Daryl and his group were always so kind…
You close your eyes and turn your face up, letting the water splash in your face, pouring over your body in a cool fountain. It starts to heat up, only slightly. The steam doesn’t rise too high tonight. This building was losing it’s hot water quickly.
You have only been in the bathroom for five or six minutes when you hear the door slide open. You assume it’s one of the girls, wanting to ask you to hurry up. But they never speak.
You open your eyes and look over, through the glass in the shower. It’s foggy, but you can clearly make out the figure that was Daryl Dixon and his crossbow, slung over his shoulder. He always has that thing, even when you were safe.
Part of you wants to yell, tell him to leave. You always knew something was off about him, but that’s what draws you in. You want to know more about him, where he came from, why he was so quiet.
When he notices you’re watching him, he brings something to his lips. It’s a whiskey bottle. Leave it to him to find the whiskey.
He’s already a little too drunk to function. He sways a little as he tries to turn around, but you catch him off guard.
“Daryl…” You say softly. You open the door just enough to see him without the foggy mess. “Want to join me?” Any other man, you may have asked him to join as a way to have a little bit of fun in these dark days. However, this is Daryl, and he didn’t handle situations like that too well. This was a friendly invite.
He slumps his shoulders and looks over his shoulder at you, nodding slightly. He’s hesitant, but he walks inside and shuts the door. His crossbow is set to the side, but the bottle remains in his hand as he tries to undress.
“Set it down, honey.” You watch him, wanting to reach out and help, just not wanting to lean out into the cold air.
Daryl pauses and looks over at you. He gently sits the bottle down on the toilet and pulls off his vest, his shirt, his pants and shoes. He walks over to the shower and spins his finger around, telling you to turn around.
You turn away from the door and now with your back to him, you run the water through your hair and slick it back. There’s a slight breeze hitting you as Daryl finishes stripping down. You wonder if he’s just that shy. Poor thing…
He steps inside, pulling the door closed once he was in.
“You okay, doll?” You spin around only to have him wrap those big, toned arms around your body and pull you closer. He buries his face in your neck, his whole body shaking at this point.
You throw your arms around him, holding him dear to you. Not until this moment did you ever stop to think it may be as hard on some of the others, too. Daryl lost just as much as you did, if not more.
He sobs, shattering your heart into a thousand different pieces. You want to make him feel better, but you think it’s best to let him cry it out. He needs to. All this time, he’s acted tough, been the bad boy. Now it’s his turn to be vulnerable.
“Everything will be okay.” You rub his back and kiss his shoulder sweetly. The shower was no longer heating up. It was almost cold again, but neither one of you care. You try your best to soothe him, to show him you care.
His hair tickles your neck and cheek, his hands find their place on your lower back as he tightens his grip on you when the water covers him, too. His chin slips a little down your shoulder blade, scratching you with his stubble. You would have giggled if you knew he wasn’t crying.
He doesn’t move. You don’t move. You two let the water run down your bodies, taking in the silence you’re getting for once. It starts to relax the two of you.
“Don’t let go…” He pleads.
“I’m not, Daryl.” You whisper, giving him a squeeze.