He's been having trouble breathing. The two years of constant vigilance have left him keyed up, always on edge. Now, when he finally can relax he really can't. He's still waiting, waiting to have to jump up and run. Waiting for the next lost person. He doesn't see it in the rest of the group, the same unease. They have all fallen back into the comfort of familiarity, he doesn't have that here. The only time he's not completely suffocated by his ingrained feelings of alienation is when he's with her. He knows that she can see it, how he doesn't really fit in, how hard it is for him to pretend he's not more uncomfortable now that they're not fighting for their lives.

It starts off with constant nearness, it would be innocent enough, except for the heat in both of their eyes. They both know, what they want, what they're missing.

Beth makes the first move. It's a quiet night, sitting by a bonfire, she moves close enough that their knees are touching and laces her fingers in-between his. In the flickering light she can see his shoulders relax and can feel some of the tension seep out of his body. She watches the sideways glances he sends her way and lets her thumb rub little circles against his hand. He keeps listening to Rick, who didn't even raise an eyebrow at her boldness.

It gets more comfortable everyday. Daryl seeks her out, it isn't hard to do, they all live in one row of townhouses. His cautious hands reach out to rest on her shoulder until she takes his hand in hers. Each time their skin makes contact Beth can feel a rush of air forced out of him, like he had been holding his breath since the last time they touched.

He's a little more calm, at ease, when he gets back from hunting. Before he goes out, no matter what time it is, he uses the key she slid into his hand. Daryl toes off his boots inside her front door and silently pads past Maggie and Glenn's room to duck into hers. He whispers in his low, gravelly voice that he's going out and waits for her to squeeze his wrist and mumble back for him to be safe before heading back out the door and past the fences that keep them protected.

It's been a few months. Months of safety. Months of quietly sought out comfort. Months of hesitant kisses and gentle touches.

Beth has started staying at his place. He carried her few boxes of clothes into the bedroom and told her she could have the closet. He didn't have anything in it anyway. That first night, the first time she fell asleep with her body curled against his since those few cold nights out in the woods, he couldn't sleep. He was up nearly the whole night just looking at her. Trying to figure out how he ended up here, how he gets to have this life.

The first time they have sex is awkward. She's nervous and so is he. He finds that even though she somehow keeps his loneliness at bay, being with her leaves him with a different kind of fear. Daryl is just starting to realize how wrong he was when he told her he wasn't afraid.

His hands, despite their size and strength, are timid and a bit unsure every time he touches her. He's never had something this real, this good before and he's terrified that one misplaced finger, one pinched piece of skin, one accidental tug on her hair, could send her skittering away. He looks up at her face each time he shifts position, each time he fingers her waistband, just waiting for the time she shakes her head and tells him no. Each time his calloused thumb rubs over her smooth skin, he waits to hear her tell him to stop. Each time she presses against him at night he keeps as still as he can manage, waiting for her to tell him what to do, too unsure and too nervous to determine his own course of action.

He's so used to having someone there telling him what to do that it's overwhelming to have to figure it out on his own. His father's drunken orders, Merle's constant criticism and egging on, Rick's encouragement and acceptance… he's never been good at doing things on his own, he's always needed someone to push him along, one way or another. Now, here he is, in this safe place, where they can just live and do what they want and he doesn't know how. He doesn't know what to want or how to get it or how to explain how scared he is that he will never fit in like the rest of his family. He thinks she can see it, that crack in his armor and the yellowed underbelly of fear and ineptitude.

Beth guides his hand to her breast, she softly kisses the side of his neck and runs her fingertips along his sides. She gives him whispers and moans of encouragement, trying her best to get him to settle in to their closeness. Trying to get him to relax and give up the thought that he could ever do anything that would make her leave him again.

She's started climbing on top of him, ever since she noticed the way his pupils dilated that first time she tried it. He bites his lip and groans when she lowers herself onto him, his hand goes from lining them up to resting on her hip. It's better this way, he hardly moves his hips, but she can see how much more comfortable he is with her having more control over their movements.

Beth has gotten bolder in her actions with him. She swings herself over him and her knees land hard on his wrists.

"Oh! Sorry!"

The words are hardly out of her mouth before she starts to move off of him. She looks down and he's pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, the surprise and arousal in his eyes makes her whole body ache for him. Daryl is pulling in deep breaths, his dick is rock hard and twitching underneath her. She knows full well how strong he is, how easily he could move her if he wanted to, Beth shifts more of her weight onto him, pushing his arms down into the mattress. The pressure on the inside of his wrists lifts the heavy weight off his chest like some kind of lever and, for the first time he can remember, he can really breathe.

She watches his chest, the way it shudders as it expands. She touches the sensitive lines of red, puckered skin under his collar bone and on his ribs. The tingling sensation of her hands on him combined with the release he feels from being pinned underneath her has him trembling. He's struggling not to cum.

His dick is leaking, she can feel it on her ass, the wetness seeping through her thin panties. He's never reacted to her this intensely or so quickly before and she's trying to memorize every detail she can. She gasps when he bucks up against her.

"Daryl,"

He can't look at her, he squeezes his eyes shut and opens them, focusing on the freckle on her hip, trying desperately to hold back… trying to wait until… until... he doesn't know what.

Her voice is lower than usual, it's the same tone she uses when he's inside her, "Daryl, look at me."

He glances up at her, she holds his gaze.

"It's okay, you can…finish. You can cum."

And that was it, what he was waiting for. He bucks up against her twice and that's all it takes. Beth stays where she is, watching his eyes clench shut and his body shake. She can feel his dick still twitching as it goes soft under her. She moves off him when his breathing starts to even out and reaches off the side of the bed for his t-shirt to clean his stomach. She slips off her panties and then lays down beside him.

"Beth." His voice breaks a little as he forces one arm underneath her and pushes his face into her neck.

"It's alright," She takes his other arm and rubs the red mark that her knee made. "It's alright."

He breathes in the scent of her, thinking only about the way she feels next to him. He believes her.