The bell chimes when he holds the door open for her.

He watches the perfect curve of her ass as she passes by him.

Her voice is clear when she orders her food and she smiles at him over the sticky plastic menu.

He grins back, tries like hell to banish the doubt screaming into his ear.

She should have guy who's just starting out, who wants the same things as she does, or a man who can take care of her. Daryl knows he's not either one of those. He's some stunted person trapped in the gray area in between. Some how all of this comes to him as they're sitting together in this nondescript diner over a plate of scrambled eggs.

She's talking to him and he knows he should be listening, he's trying to, but he's struggling. The lights make her face look tired and he can picture the dark bags under his eyes, he knows she can see the gray peeking out on his unshaven face. These things are harder to spot in the muted light of a parking lot after dark. Daryl pushes the food around the plate and looks around the room.

"How old are you anyway?"

She's caught off guard and he realizes he interrupted her.

Beth raises an eyebrow as he presses his lips into a thin line.

He shakes his head, "Sorry, I just…"

"I'm twenty."

He snorts out a breath.

"It's not a big deal, Daryl." She watches him, takes in his hunched shoulders and bowed head.

His phone goes off, ringing shrilly in his pocket.

"'S my brother, he's never up this early."

Beth sips at her coffee and listens to the one sided conversation.

"Nah, I ain't home."

"I dunno, Merle. They're your damn keys."

"The diner on Main."

"I got money, you don't gotta buy me breakfast."

"Yeah, see ya."

"The hell's with everyone trying to feed me?" Daryl shifts to slide his phone back into his jeans. "My brother got locked outta his place, he's coming to get his spare key. Sorry."

"That's okay, I'd like to meet him."

Daryl smirks and shakes his head, "Nah, you really wouldn't. He's an ass."

"Wait till you meet my family."

Her words sink in as he listens to her describe her family. A mom and dad. Sister and brother. 'Wait till you meet my family.' A farm house with horses and a barn. Part time school while she works because it hasn't been the same since her dad's accident. 'Wait till you meet my family.' His head is spinning as she tells him and the blare of a horn outside is a welcome distraction.

"I'll be right back."

Daryl is out the door before she can invite his brother to join them for coffee. She watches from the window. The car is an old olive green Chevelle with rust creeping up the body. Daryl leans into the window, the hem of his shirt creeps up his back and Beth can see lines of discolored skin peeking out before he reflexively pulls it down. She watches him slide a key off his chain and when she changes her focus the driver of the car is grinning at her.

He smirks and raises a prosthetic hand in greeting.

Daryl's eyes flash to her as she waves back. She looks down into her coffee and misses Merle wagging his tongue between his static fingers.

The engine roars back to life and the door jingles as Daryl comes back in.

"Sorry about that."

She shrugs, "He could've come in you know."

"No. He's stoned."

"And driving?"

"That ain't even his car, some chick's probably."

"You don't know who he's dating?"

Daryl barks out a laugh, "Dixon's don't 'date'."

She gets quiet for a minute, "Then what's this, Daryl?"

His stomach lurches, greasy food unsettled in his gut.

"Don't know." He gulps down the rest of his coffee. "Nothin but a mess. I'll bring you home." He doesn't look at her, leaves a twenty and some singles on the table before moving quickly toward the door. He doesn't look at her pass by as he holds it open, his eyes are on his feet.

Beth walks toward the truck and is startled when he rushes past her. Daryl scrapes the key against the passenger side handle before slipping it into the lock and holding the door open. She is quiet in the truck, give's him simple directions to the house. He turns into her driveway and lets the engine idle.

There's not much to look at out the window, a large front yard and sloping fields, he chews on his lips and keeps a tight grip on the steering wheel.

"That didn't go the way I pictured it." She's not looking at him.

"Mmm." It's more of a grunt than an answer.

Beth is quiet, she can see someone moving around inside. "I should go in. Thanks for breakfast."

Daryl keeps his eyes trained on the tree line and listens to her fumble with her bag and seat belt. The door opens and closes again. He bites through the edge of his lip and his teeth click together. She's at his open window watching him.

"Hey," her hand reaches for his on the steering wheel, "you can just be Daryl, you know?"

He ducks his head, chin resting on his chest, jerks his shoulders in a shrug.

Her lips press against the side of his head and she tucks a scrap of paper between his white knuckled fingers. She turns away and he looks at the scrawled phone number in his hand.

He yells out the window before he loses his nerve, "You sure?"

She turns around mid-step, in that way that makes her look like she can float.

"I am. Just waiting on you I guess." She waves and makes her way up the porch steps.