Last part guys! Thank you so much for all the favs/follows. I posted this on A03 and got a lot of responses there, too. It makes a writer so happy to get feedback, so please, please leave a review if you are reading this story. Favorites are great but they offer nothing in constructive criticism or anything.

Thanks

His hand is rolled into a fist as he walks past her apartment. Bits and pieces of his conversation with Rick last night float to the front of his mind. His confidence had not really fueled itself anymore after their drunken conversation, and he cowered as he knocked on the door to the first-floor apartment.

"Daryl?" Beth's question hangs in the air as she steps outside.

The air is cold and he's out here looking like a fool. He can hear the radio inside as she shuts the door, and he wonders if it's not too late, if he's still able to turn around and go back to his apartment and pretend he didn't walk all the way here to tell her he was in love with her. Stupid, he tells himself. The words in his head didn't even sound right.

"Beth…I…" Words would not form.

He thinks she is going to be curt, but when she sees that he is struggling, her shoulders drop and she looks at him the way you look at broken people. And she gets why he came, he can see the exact moment Beth realizes what exactly his intentions are.

"Daryl," she whispers softly, "…You can—just—you can tell me that you didn't mean what happened. It doesn't matter." It takes him a few minutes to realize she is talking about the kiss in the kitchen a few days ago. And he suddenly realizes that he had left her thinking about this while he had been figuring out what he felt for her.

Then he felt like an ass.

He watches as she looks down at the ground, small and scared. And then something hits him like train. She is giving him a way out.

She is just as scared as he is.

But she's still talking and he really should try to listen instead of focusing on her eyes or her hair or the way her arms are crossed across her chest that give her just a hint of cleavage in her thin tank top that is covered with a long sweater. The cold nighttime air makes her cheeks heat up and he can't think of anything more beautiful.

"I'm not gonna be angry with you," she says. "I can understand that you don't want anything more between us, and I won't ever bring it up again. So just tell me…" He's still staring at her like an idiot. "…That it didn't mean anything. It'll all be okay."

He could lie. He could tell her that kissing her had meant nothing. That he didn't feel a single thing when her lips had covered his own, when her tongue had been so softy pressed against his. That he wasn't so turned on that it hurt when her fingers had brushed his neck. But it would be worse to lie to her.

Daryl could lie to himself and pretend that he didn't love her; but he was done lying to Beth about it.

"You can tell me—"

"I meant it."

And the cold September air hung heavy with desire and unspoken confessions of love and everything that had happened between them in the past few months. And Daryl's mind briefly flits back to when he had come into her cell to tell her Zach was dead, and he wonders if the universe had planned this from the start.

Beth's eyes were kindled with something he vaguely recognized as desire, something he had seen from her before, but maybe only just finally began to fully understand. He wonders what she sees in him, because he still feels stupid and silly for even coming here, because he doesn't just do stuff like this.

Then everything happened at once.

Beth raced toward him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, and the force of her knocking into him landed both of them in the grass. He was on his back, looking up at her on top of him (something stirs in his lower stomach but he doesn't care). Her hair was like halo against the inky black sky, and she looked angelic as she leaned down to brush her lips against the corner of his mouth. The uncounted, crowded stars disappeared from the sky and reappeared behind his eyelids, growing in number as she increased the pressure.

"I really did mean it," he whispers again, hands gripping the sides of her hips as she settled herself. Her feather-like lips ghosted up the column of his throat, and he can't breathe or think, but he keeps whispering it over and over against her.

"I wanted you to, so bad," she half laughed, half cried. "Oh God, I've never prayed for something so hard in my whole life." And then his tongue is tracing her lips, and they are kissing and it's mad and crazy and frightening and wonderful. A groan tugs at his throat as she pulls away, her forehead leaning against his.

Then he remembered why he came here, and he sat up, her knees spreading out on either side of his lap. He wants to touch her and kiss her and maybe even more, but they really need to talk and he never thought he would be the one who initiated it.

"I can't…" He whispered, taking his hands off her shoulders. He wanted this feeling so badly, but he couldn't be this guy for her.

It would be so much easier if she wasn't so close to him. Her lilac and honey scent confusing his thoughts, embedding itself into his brain and not really helping him function properly. Daryl watched her reaction painfully, as her eyes went from happy to confused to angry.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was so small.

"I…I ain't the right guy for this Beth," he tells her, not looking her in the eye.

"You weren't lying before when you said…" she says, although it comes out sounding more like a question.

"No," he tells her. But he's still stumbling over what he's trying to say. He's too lovesick and too unsure of himself to make any sense. But love never made sense to him anyway.

"Then what do you mean right now?" she asks sternly.

He sighs, and looks at her. She looks…defeated.

"Look at me, Beth. I'm twice your age at least. Old 'nough to be your dad. I ain't never been in love with anyone before, and I don't know how these things work. But I'd bet that this wouldn't work. You deserve to find someone worth bein' with, someone you can choose. Not just someone you got stuck with."

She doesn't say anything. Her eyes just look at him, and she looks so sad, and it breaks his heart almost as much as hers, but he knows he's doing her a favor, making her future better because he understands that if he really loves her, he should let her go.

"Oh, Daryl," she whispers, face moving closer to his again. "You love me," she says. And suddenly she's repeating it within a centimeter of his face and he can't control his mind or his heart with this proximity. He takes her wrists in his hands, holds them in the air and looks her dead in the eye.

And he knows it's true. Suddenly it all hits him at once and he's overcome with these feelings inside his chest. He's heard of things like this, how human emotion can overcome a person so much that it hurts even when it's good. And now he gets it.

Except he's stuck because she was supposed to be angry that he didn't want to be with her, not reveling in the fact that he felt this way. It was going to make this whole thing so much harder.

"Beth you can't," he hiccupped. "You can't be…"

"Daryl," she whispers, shushing him with her index finger. "I love you. Whatever you're thinking…just don't."

She takes a deep breath and her eyes are filled with tears and he realizes she is sad for him, not because he is (trying to) turn her away. "Daryl, I am old enough to make my own choices. And I choose you. It's not because I got stuck with you. You're a good person. You're one of the good ones left."

He feels so much at once when he looks into her eyes. Beth just touches the side of his face, keeping his eyes on hers. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't have feelings for me, I would understand. But if you're afraid of what other people will say, or you think I am incapable of making a decision about my own feelings, then you are the one who is wrong."

"What would your dad say, Beth? I can't do this to Hershel, he's—"

"My dad is gone, Daryl," she says sternly. "He is gone and he would have wanted me to be happy. And that is when I'm with you." He can't find any words to say, and she shifts her weight and he's suddenly reminded of the fact that she's sitting on his lap and knows that she feels him.

"Why are you making this so difficult?" she asks, turning her head to the side and looking into his eyes.

In that second, he makes up his mind. That if Beth didn't truly have any qualms about this, about them, then how could he? He couldn't be without her. Couldn't stand the idea of never kissing her again.

(When he was chasing that car all night after she had been kidnapped, Daryl realized that he had been doomed from the start because Beth Greene doesn't just come into your life and leave without also leaving a giant, gaping hole in the middle of your heart).

He couldn't think of a good reason. He shakes his head, his chin against his chest, the defeat evident in his shoulder. He was tired of pushing her away, tired of always trying to get her to see what was wrong with this. Daryl couldn't push her away now, even if he wanted to.

"So don't," she whispered. He hadn't realized he had said that out loud.

Their gazes met.

He took a leap of faith and came breaths away from her lips, just hesitating and giving her a chance to back off. But she didn't back down. She didn't step away. If anything, she leaned forward a little more in anticipation.

Lips brushed the corner of her mouth; and he lost control after that.

His thoughts were jumbled like her hair in his hands, and he felt no reason to yield or slow down. It was all happening at a hundred miles an hour, all too fast. He tried to enjoy the moment, to embed everything in his mind. Her tongue traced a pattern on the roof of his mouth, and he gripped her hips harder, clutched at her skin like it was going to be the last thing he ever touched in this world.

Beth's fingers crept under his shirt, and she broke away to stare at him, her blue eyes filled with sweetness and love and so many other things that he didn't have the patience to name. It took his sanity away, stole his breath. He wanted her. So much. "Daryl," she whispered. Her voice was silky and wrapped its way into his gut, and he felt something tug in his lower stomach.

They kissed again, softly, slowly. Her hands ventured further up his shirt, flattening against his stomach, then to his chest and shoulders. It felt so good. He didn't know this could ever have this kind of feeling attached. Her fingers worked magic over his skin, and he almost forgot about his own hands until they brushed against the bare skin of her hip.

She climbed further into his lap, and Daryl felt a groan come from deep within his throat as she shifted her weight over him. He left her lips to taste the corner of her mouth, her jaw line, all the way back to the shell of her ear. He felt her shiver when his teeth lightly grazed her skin, and she sighed happily as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

"Daryl, I mean…just, oh god," she whispers, her breathing labored.

"Yes?" he breathes against her skin, licking a path back up to her lips.

It takes her a few seconds to gather her composure, but she glances down between them and then she looks back at him. She's blushing. "We don't have to sit out in the yard, you know." Then they are both laughing and he is carrying her into her apartment because he can't imagine letting go of her just yet.

"Maggie and Glenn are already in bed," she whispers against his neck. "Just go to my room."

And he navigates his way there, to the open door down the hall and to the left. He kicks it shut behind him and the lays her gently on the bed. She's looking at him softly as he kicks his boots off and settles on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows.

Her fingers trace the sides of his face, and the low hum she makes in her throat lets him know she can feel him pressed against her. He breaks their gaze to kiss her softly, and there are a thousand permissions within it, but he has to ask anyway.

"Are you sure?"

"More than anything," she whispers.

He pressed down further on top of her, his lips devouring her neck. Soft moans and sighs escape her mouth, making him grunt against her mouth, apparently satisfied.

He pulled her shirt, revealing a plain bra underneath. Daryl has never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Beth didn't compare to the shameless fucks he had had in the past, and she certainly couldn't hold a candle to any stupid bitch in any of Merle's dirty magazines.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, and she giggles lightly, cupping his cheek. He gazes at her, unable to look away, even below. She slowly pulled his shirt off, pulling him back down on top of her to hold him. His warm skin met with hers; sending shivers against her back, goose bumps running up and down her legs.

He stops. He knows she has seen his scars before, but now it seemed so much more intimate, so much more meaningful.

She soothes him softly, brushing her fingers gently along his back. "It's okay, Daryl," she murmurs, kissing his temple. "We don't have to worry about it right now."

He breathes out a sigh of relief and brings his arms around her, undoes the clasp in the back, breathing in the scent of her skin as he does so. When Daryl leans back, the sight before him is almost enough for him to lose it. She blushes and looks away, embarrassed.

"You're beautiful," he whispers again, his hands reaching up to touch her, making her arch her back against the bed. He begins to kiss from her stomach up, caressing her sides as he moves north. She bites her lip, holding back a moan, but she can't take it after a while. These sensations are irresistible, and he felt like he was on cloud nine after hearing the way she sighed his name.

She moves to flip them over, so she can be on top, but he shakes his head, pulling her face closer to him. His lips devour hers in a hungry, lust-ridden kiss. She is like putty in his hands as he has his way with her, trailing kisses down her jaw, biting softly and nibbling at the sensitive skin on her neck and below her ears.

Her pants are removed before she can say another word, and the only fabric left on her are her soaked panties. He toys with the line of her underwear, pinching his fingers along the edges, watching her face intently as he does so.

Feeling adventurous, he slides two fingers under the elastic, finding her so wet.

"It's all for you," she whispers breathlessly, writhing under his touch.

He kisses her as he works her beneath his fingers, her breaths becoming more ragged. He's sure she is ready for him, but he wants to make this as good for her as possible. She seemed to be getting the point, because she grabbed his wrist, and he stopped.

Her hands go to his belt buckle, and he lets her finish undressing him, wordlessly.

He puts his fingers to her swollen lips, kissing her forehead softly. Words seem to be carelessly whispered between them while their mouths continue to smash together, and their hands fumble with each other's newfound skin. He pulls her back down onto bed, her lips trailing down his skin.

"I love you," she whispers into the crook of his neck. "I'll love you forever, and I can't live without you," she repeats, kissing his chest. He shudders, absentmindedly twirling her hair with his fingers. He's looking into her eyes the entire time he enters her, and they move slowly at first.

It's too much for him. Daryl feels like he's about to explode in more ways than one, bringing himself and Beth closer to the edge. He would have scoffed at the term making love a few months ago (and maybe even yesterday) but right now, he can't find any other word to describe their intimacy.

It's certainly not fucking.

His lips brush her forehead as she comes down, and they lay there after, breathing heavily and unable to break apart. It's only when he hears a hard knock on the wall next door that he remembers Maggie and Glenn were in the room next to theirs.

Beth started to laugh slowly. "Finally, we can pay them back for all those times in the prison they woke us up."

Daryl smirked into her skin. "Give me a few more minutes. We can get payback all night."