Carol put her bowl aside on the bedside table where she'd placed a candle in a saucer. The flickering light picked out the objects there; a wooden comb, a shell, a little carving of a cat that looked as though a child had made it. She picked up the shell, turning it around in her hand, wondering at the seamlessness of the concave and the convex. The spiral of the calcified turret telling her everything she needed to know about the glossy pink intricacies of the interior.

She sighed, laughed softly.

"I didn't think I could do this either," she said finally.

She looked at him then, a little apprehensive that he would take flight, but he was still there, not going anywhere, even in his head. She could barely make out his expression in the light, but his eyes were on her. Tufts of his hair stuck up from lying in bed. Shiny with grease.

"I was never sure if it was just Ed that made things... bad between us,"

Daryl huffed, uncomfortable with that particular ghost joining them in the room.

She went on, regardless: "I've known how I felt about you for a while now. At first it was just… ha… dumb lust, I guess. I thought that maybe it could be something we could do to… as a distraction… " it was the wrong word, clumsy, but it was close enough.

"Then I, we… it was more than that. I didn't want to risk our friendship… and I..." she pressed the tip of her tongue into a molar to stop the tears,"I didn't want to find that I could lose myself again. You too...That we both know how to live with violence…"

"You were right not to trust me," he murmured, sadly

"It wasn't you as much as myself. What I might allow."

"Ain't seen you take any shit from anyone for a good long while. Never have from me."

"You've never pushed me, Daryl"

"Back at the farm? Yelled at you. Called you a bitch… " he said, adding quietly: "Almost hit you"

"But you didn't. I was never afraid of you. I know you could never hurt me."

"Hurt Beth. Dragged her around, yelled at her. Called her a dumb bitch."

Carol was silent. A tear finally gave way to gravity and dropped onto the shell in her hands. She massaged it into the surface. This is how it would look under the sea.

The rain had stopped and it was still. The world was so quiet now. No planes overhead, no car alarms, no traffic. Cars going past with booming speakers… all gone. She remembered being anxious about moving into a house on a busy street until a friend of hers said that the sound was exactly the same as waves on the beach. It was easy to get to sleep thinking of it that way.

He spoke again: "Ain't got a great track record with women. Done things I regret," he looked out the window, all she saw of his profile was the long flat curve of his cheek. The mole on his upper lip twitched, "Haven't done things I should've."

Her instinct was to tell him that he was a good man. That it didn't matter to her, the things he'd done. When of course it did matter. It should matter.

"What do you want, Daryl?" she said. Quiet, but direct. Searching the dark silhouette of his face. He shifted uneasily, putting aside the bowl of cold pasta that was still on his lap, placing it on the bedside table and dragging his hands over his face.

"Our pasts are part of us, Daryl," she continued, " I can't make you believe what I see in you," she was trembling now, " all I know is that I… I meant it when I said that I love you. I want this. You. Us. I am stronger than I ever thought I could be, but it doesn't mean that you can't break my heart."

"I want…" his voice was unsteady, was he crying too? She shifted away from the candle light so she could see him weak light played over the planes and hollows of his face, the sliver she could see of his eyes under the shadow of his brows was beaded and red. She reached out for his hand and he allowed it, rubbing his thumb in erratic circles on the back of her hand,

"I want to be with you, too, Carol. I just don't want to fuck it up. Can't make you any promises that I can be what you deserve."

"I don't need promises. You've given me more than I ever felt I deserved in the time we've known one another… I can't promise you that I won't fuck things up either," her eyes were huge and bright.

Those heartbreaking eyes that turned him inside out.

"I'm terrified," she said.

"Me too," he smiled weakly, looked into her eyes. An oasis in Hell. He ran his hands up her arms and pulled her closer till she straddled his lap, leaning her forehead against his.

"I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have said that," he said, looking up at her, searching her eyes to see if he'd done any real damage. Said anything that couldn't be unsaid. The tears had been wiped away and there was that beautiful smile that made him feel like a fucking rockstar. Christ, he'd been childish… ungrateful.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he dipped his head, following the column of her neck from her the hollow of her collar bone to just under her earlobe he breathed her in, his lower lip grazing and catching at the sensitive skin.

"You don't scare me, Daryl Dixon," she tipped her head back to give him better access to her neck, sinking into his lap with a slow grind of her hips.

"Unf… really?" his words buzzing against her warm skin, "when I could just rip your throat out with my teeth right now?" nipping at her, playful now.

"Oh my," wriggling down into his lap "You really are a bad man."

"I know. Got a bad sense of humour. No manners, neither. Thanks for dinner. Looks like I ruined it," glancing over at the half-eaten cold pasta.

"Doesn't matter. We've eaten worse than cold spaghetti for breakfast, right?"

"Hmmn,"rubbing the slippery fabric the dress up her body and over her head again, leaning her back a moment to drink in her naked body in the candlelight, "Eaten better too, " running his index finger down the centre of her body from her lower lip, down her long neck, between her breasts, dipping into her navel, over the crisp curls of her pubic mound and sliding it effortlessly into her slit all in one movement, pulling it out and putting it in his mouth.

"Oh, " she gasped and he leaned in, darting his tongue into her open mouth. She moaned, sucking at her own lingering flavour on his long, agile tongue. Hands sliding up slowly over every curve of his arms, feeling the muscles contract and lengthen as he drew her in closer, tighter.

His cock was hard and glistened at the tip. Licking her palm, she reached between them to grasp the shaft, but he gently took her wrist and pulled her hand away, his cock slapping up against his navel when she released it.

Her face fell for a moment. She looked away, confused, embarrassed.

"Hey,"

He tapped her on the chin and kissed her, a kiss as sweet as honey. Her eyes brimmed with tears again.

"Just wanna…"

Be close.

"...kiss you for a bit… 'Kay? " Pulling her tight up against him, his arms wrapped around her almost twice she was so tiny. Small but strong. Carol sniffled, nodded, She wound her hands around his neck, fingers kneading the knots there.

He kissed her so tenderly that it was unbearable.

Mapping her body with his fingertips so thoroughly that she couldn't remember a time when she'd been this physically intimate with a man.

Carol had been with other men besides Ed. She'd been in love with all of them. She couldn't separate sex from love even though as a younger woman she'd convinced herself that she could. It was all just bravado in the end. It didn't help that she was drawn to shy, sad men and it had meant that she'd spent much of her adult life feeling heart-broken.

She'd turned back to the church after a particularly torturous affair with an un-fixable boy. She'd tried to go against type with Ed. He'd seemed so confident and sure of himself. He'd made her feel like she was the only woman in the world for a while. She was ashamed to admit it, but his possessiveness had made her feel wanted at first. More than any of those sweet, unsure boys who frightened so easily.

A log popped loudly in the stove downstairs and they broke apart, startled by the noise.

"Listen to that." she said

"Hmm," back to kissing her, on the neck," just the fire."

"No, listen," she said "It's so quiet. I haven't heard them since we've been here." At the prison, in the woods, the walkers were always there, their low moaning as ever-present as the sound of crickets.

"Yeah," he said," Feels wrong, almost. I keep feeling as if I'm forgetting something. Under some kind of spell."

"I am. Being here with you feels as if we could be on another planet," she said.

He was silent, wishing he hadn't been so morose, that he could find words to talk about this bliss with her.

Suddenly he was done with kissing. Just needed to be inside her. Pushed her down into the bed and entered her and she purred. Unfurled like a flower.

It wasn't like the other times. They had a feel for their fit now, for a rhythm and more than that.

It was so slow. His strokes were almost languid; withdrawing until the head of his cock was resting against her entrance for a moment and then gliding slowly back in, until he was buried deep inside of her. His pace was so even, almost mechanical, that it felt as though he might fuck her like this eternally. Even though it was gentle and slow it became the most exquisite torture, especially when he held her hands above her head and murmured in her ear:

"Don' move. Let's just pretend I've tied you up…"

She sometimes saw things when she would come with a lover, or feel sensations as if she was somewhere else alone, like lying in a meadow of flowers with the sun on her skin.

She came with him and she was all of the ocean, clean and pure on the poisoned Earth. He was gravity, the tide, murmuring low in one ear and then the other:

"I love you, baby. I love you."

FIN

Thank you all for your kind words and support!

I appreciate it so much!

This is my first ever fic and it's been so lovely to get such a good response from the Caryl fandom.

I'm not sure if I'll continue, but I'm open to being encouraged!

Thank you all again and

CARYL ON, beautiful people!