Life Could Be Good

Nights were cold.

Daryl Dixon was starting to wonder if burning down the little shack they’d found had been the right move. Despite their difficulty finding a good place to shelter he always came back to the same conclusion: it had been the right move. Every time he thought about it he felt a little lighter inside. He’d literally burned part of his past. Burnt it right out of him.

“We need a bath,” Beth said. “I can’t stand either one of us anymore.”

Daryl shrugged. “BO don’t bother me.”

“It bothers me.”

“Ain’t a whole lotta bathtubs out here,” he said, snarkily. She rewarded him by cutely sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’ve got a couple of bars of soap in my bag. We’ve got a new mission: Find a creek. It’s a simple one. You know the area. Where do we look?”

“I know the area but I don’t know every single inch. We’re further out than usual. I don’t know this place,” he explained.

She took his hand, twining her fingers with his. She’d been doing that a lot lately and he always felt a swoop in his belly when she touched him. Damn if he knew why he felt that way but he sure liked it. He used his free hand to scratch at his whiskers. Judging by the little details, like a well-worn path that had started to grow over along the edges from disuse, somebody travelled here.

“Let’s take this old path. See what we see,” he suggested.

They set off, moving into the shadows of the trees. It took about five minutes before the path widened and revealed a little cabin. Considering the broken window and the way the banister on the tiny porch was hanging off Beth guessed the place was empty. It certainly felt abandoned.

It was a goldmine of useful things, however. She helped Daryl clear the place. Every surface had a covering of dust showing that nothing had been disturbed in quite awhile.

“Look!” she found a couple of big metal pails.

In the corner of the room was a pump. Daryl put one of the pails and began pumping. After a few moments some rusty water came out, but then ran clear. Daryl went to the utility sink next to the pump and dumped the rusty water.

“Let’s wash our clothes,” she said.

“Wait. We ain’t got nothin’ to wear while they wash and dry.”

Beth shrugged. “We’ll have to be naked then.”

“Huh-uh,” he said, putting his hands up.

Beth bit her lip, thinking it over. She rummaged through the tiny dresser but found nothing but a couple of old hand towels and a rag.

“I’ll wash up first and then wear my clothes wet, I guess. You wait outside?”

He didn’t want to but he agreed. He stepped outside to give her privacy. “I’m gonna go hunt,” he said from the front porch. They needed the food and he didn’t want to just waste time.

“Okay! Try to find rabbit. I like rabbit.”

God, she’s making requests, he thought warmly. He wanted to be annoyed but he couldn’t. All he wanted was to find something to give her that she wanted. He’d scare up a rabbit if it took him the rest of the day.

In fact, it almost did take the rest of the day. When he got back three hours later Beth was on the porch, reading a book he didn’t have a clue where she’d picked up. She dog-eared the page and grinned at the two fat rabbits he brought with him and went to clean.

“I’ll cook these while you wash up. Scrub your clothes and pass ‘em out to me. I’ll hang ‘em up to dry.”

Daryl hated bathing. He’d rather do something useful like cooking. Or sleeping. Still, he had to admit he was awfully dirty and sweaty and she’d smelled really good from her bath. So he dunked his clothes in the water and rubbed soap on them and scrubbed and rinsed until they were clean. Then he set to work on himself, scrubbing down at the sink, using the old rag to clean the filth from his skin and his hair. He was about to gather his clothes up to pass them out to Beth when he saw a wisp of blond hair move away from the window and his stomach swooped again.

Had she actually peeped at him?

Daryl’s mouth went dry at the thought. Beth, peeping while he was naked? Naw. He must have imagined it. Putting it aside he handed his clothes out and she took them to hang on the railing to dry.

…

They found an old shaker of salt that was harder than a rock but the scrapings added savor to the meat. Beth had found some wild growing tomatoes and cucumbers in the abandoned garden in back of the house. She and Daryl ate a good dinner in silence before he covered the broken windows with pieces of boards and hung up some dirty old curtains that had been ripped down to keep cold air from blowing in too hard. After that he started a fire in the hearth. By the time that was done it was late and time to go to sleep.

“There’s a bed,” she said.

“You can have it.”

“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor,” she told him.

“I ain’t takin’ the bed from you, Beth.”

“We could share,” she suggested.

“Huh?”

He wondered what had gotten into her. She’d suggested they get naked, and then she’d possibly peeped at him while he bathed; now she was talking about sharing a tiny twin bed? What did all that mean?

Had it been any other woman he’d have had a damn good idea what it meant but Beth? Naw, she wasn’t trying to put the moves on him. He was sure of it. She was too young for that. She wouldn’t eyeball a man his age even though he was, quite possibly, the last man on earth.

“I just…I’d really like the closeness. You know? Please?”

Damn it, he thought. Why’d she have to say please? There was no way he could tell her no. Not when she was begging him with her eyes more than her words.

“Okay,” he said reluctantly.

He was glad for the clean clothes and the bath now. He lay on his back, her body between him and the wall, while she curled herself around him. They lay there, warm from the fire, the room bathed in golden light. He didn’t like how happy he felt right then. It didn’t seem right to feel happy considering she’d lost her father and sister, and they’d both lost their home and everyone they knew and loved.

Still, he was happy right then, with Beth’s sweet smelling warmth pressed against him, her breath warm on his chest. She began to talk about the old days at the farm, then at the prison. She spoke of missing Judith and Maggie, and her father. He expected tears to come. They didn’t. She’d moved past that now and he was glad. Not because he didn’t want to be bothered with tears, but because it meant she was getting better. He was too.

“Do you think we could stay for a couple of days?” she asked. “I know we’re supposed to keep moving, keep looking, but I’d like to just stay. For awhile.”

“We’ll stay as long as you want,” he said, and stroked her arm.

“This life doesn’t have to be bad. Us, together,” she said.

Her hand was flat on his belly and he wondered if she could feel the butterflies fluttering there. He liked the feeling. He liked holding her and providing for her and listening to her talk and hold his hand and look at him with so much kindness and trust.

He thought she was drifting to sleep when her hand shifted. Soon he realized that she wasn’t moving in sleep but moving with purpose, down the flat plane of his belly. Her fingers dipped beneath his undies and he realized what was happening. Daryl almost panicked, almost stopped her, but then he took a breath and let her lead the way. He wanted this. He wanted her.

Her small hand was warm when she found him and began to stroke. He hardened in her palm at once and another sigh escaped him. He undid his pants and scooted them off his hips to free his erection and to give her hand space to move.

They shared their first kiss then. They shared his first time with his hands on her and her hands on him and their mouths fused together, soon followed by their bodies coming together in the most intimate way possible.

When it was over they slipped into a deep, warm, happy sleep.

Yeah, they could be happy there. Life could be good, for both of them.