It was the only word to describe the way he felt about her. Enchanted. Growing up in a well kept house, always having food on the table at dinner times, not having to sidestep piles of trash on the floor. Being able to find the tiniest spark of good, the smallest beam of light, no matter what they were being faced with. He had seen her bedroom, it was ingrained in his memory. Each room in that house was. He had felt so out of place there, but the comfort that Beth, Maggie, and Hershel so obviously found there with each other was captivating. The night he had spent dozing in the first floor bedroom was one he would remember, he heard them say good night, he knew now that it had been Beth's gentle voice talking to her father. It was that sound that fascinated him. Soft words, pauses where he could picture a hug or a kiss on the cheek, he closed his eyes and tried to remember if his mother had ever done that, tried to imagine a soft voice saying goodnight.

Hershel had checked on him once during the night, making sure the stitches held, giving him another dose of antibiotics. Hardly said a word.

Early that morning, before anyone from their group was back in the house, there was a soft knock on the door. The sun was just coming up and Daryl was surprised to see the young blond in the doorway.

"Good mornin'." He let his eyes slip closed for a brief moment. He let her voice sink into him, pretended he heard it everyday. Daryl filed that two word greeting away in the back of his head.

"Daddy said you need another dose of these." She held up a pill bottle and glass of water and came into the room.

He carefully tucked the sheet around his body before reaching out to take what she offered.

"Did you manage to sleep alright?"

"I dunno, guess so." He answered her quietly, wanting to hear her speak again. He wanted to hear that soft tone from the night before. Daryl kept his eyes on the foot of the bed and tracked her movement across the room by listening to the floorboards creak under her steps.

"I'll bring you some breakfast if you're feeling up to it."

She was closer to him now, picking up the empty glass from the night stand.

"A'right."

"Alright, I'll be back."

Their first interaction was mundane. Nothing stood out to him other than that soft tone she had spoken to him with. It wasn't something he had directed at him on a regular basis, before her that is. Those months, the ones they spent on the road, he kept a catalogue of every word she spoke to him. It was something about her easy confidence, the way she never shied away from him, the way she seemed to know how to approach him in a way that he could never turn from.

"If you show me how, I'll help you with the squirrel." She gave him just enough time to glance up at her before going on.

"You're always the one hunting, teach me how to clean them so you can rest."

The sureness, the way she praised him and gave him an order all at once, Daryl didn't know what else to do other than nod and show her.

It was different at the prison. He was so focused on what he needed to do, between Hershel, Lori and the baby, then Rick, he couldn't take a breath without being pulled in another direction. But she sang, he heard that. He watched her too. The way the words effortlessly become melodies. He couldn't look away.

He made his rounds at night while she was settling the baby. He would never admit to lingering when he heard her voice softly lulling the little one to sleep.

One night he found himself outside her cell just as she laid Judith down in her makeshift crib.

"Hey."

He stopped in his tracks. His breath caught a little in his throat and he had to cough a bit to hide it. "Just checking in."

She smiled at him, "Thanks."

"Mmhmm."

He watched her take a step in his direction.

"Goodnight, Daryl."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in. For a second he imagined her arms around him and the way her hair might smell as he kissed the top of her head. He imagined how the warmth of her hand on the side of his face would feel and the look of reflected light in her eyes when they met his. He let her voice do that to him, just like it had that night on the farm. That night that he had laid there alone, in a nicer bed than any he had ever had, and pictured her soothing voice whispering to him. He opened his eyes and nodded at her.

"Night… Beth."