Daryl draws Beth

Draw me like one of your French girls. Yes a cheesy ripoff from Titanic but I don't care. It's sexy anyway.

They had been holed up in the bunker for two days waiting for the herd to pass. It was an even bigger herd that the one that trapped them inside the trunk of that car several weeks ago. Sometimes it has hard for Beth to fathom that they had been by themselves as long as they had. They had thought they had found some people a week ago but as it turned out it was a group of men and by listening to them as they huddled in a closet together in the back of a store they were scavenging, it didn't sound like they were anyone they wanted to know anyway.

But here they were on day two of the great migration as Beth had come to call it. The bunker was an odd place. They had found it by happenstance while doubling back to a busted up camper they had passed thirty minutes prior. Rather than to chance going forward, Daryl had looked to Beth and they had wordlessly run back the other direction. They had to have taken a wrong turn somewhere but it worked out okay because this bunker was certainly better than some old run-down motor home. They barely made it inside the bunker just before the herd hit. They had long since stopped listening for sounds of them passing them by. There weren't any windows, so if they wanted to see if it was passed then all they had to do was to look out the odd periscope that was affixed to the side of the bunker.

Daryl had checked it out when they first got down there to make sure it was well ventilated but it seemed to be well equipped and nearly self-sustaining. They, of course, had to improvise on a lot of things but one of Beth's favorite things about being holed up in here was the fact that she could take a bath. She had taken two already solely because she could and there wasn't a whole heck of a lot else to do. Daryl had taken to scratching pencil across paper. He would never show her what he was working on but he had a certain gleam in his eye when he was thinking hard on whatever was on that paper.

He was doing it now in fact while Beth perused an old magazine. It was an ancient People magazine and Leonardo Dicaprio was plastered all over the front cover. "Hey Daryl, you remember that movie Titanic?" She looked up from where she was lounging facedown on the bed across from the sofa. This has become their stance lately. He sat back on the sofa and tittered with his pencil and paper while Beth laid on the bed and alternately flipped through old magazines or some book that she found on the shelf but mostly she watched Daryl. It had become harder and harder not to notice the way he looked at her now. She had noticed the subtle shift right about the time they had arrived at the funeral home. Then they had that conversation about there being good people and how she had changed his mind. She had felt that he was trying to say something else but then the dog had interrupted their meal and their conversation and when he came back in the room, the atmosphere had totally changed. Beth had wanted to bring it up several times but didn't have the nerve.

He was looking at her intently now. "Yeah, I 'member it. I imagine most do. Merle dragged me to see it. You were what five when it came out?" He gave her a wry grin.

Daryl loved teasing her about her age. It never failed to get a rise out of her and he wasn't disappointed this time either, watching her face fire up red and her hands flutter about. "I was younger than that but I remember watching it." She toyed with the necklace she always wore, the two connected gold hearts. She was constantly fiddling with it when she was nervous, he had noticed.

"How old were you when you watched it then?" Daryl decided to let it slide. He didn't need any fresh reminders really of the age difference between him and Beth. He had a hard enough time of that on his own as it was.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I think I watched it about two months before everythin' went bad." She looked at him. "When did you see it?"

It was Daryl's turn to shrug his shoulders. He seemed to do that a lot with her. He hoped she didn't notice it. He would try to make a better effort to talk to her. He'd been promising himself he would anyway. He looked down at his paper and erased for a bit and then changed the shading.

"Daryl?" Beth looked at him quizzically.

"Mmmhhm?" Daryl hummed his response.

"Do you believe in star-crossed lovers?" She put the magazine down and looked at him, studied him. She was bored and starting to get antsy.

He looked up from his paper and put the pencil up to his mouth. He thought about the pact he'd made with himself about talking to her more and had to fight the urge not to shrug his shoulders. Again. "I don't know, never really thought about it I guess." He didn't ask her what she thought. He knew he'd hear it, like it or not. That thought turned the corners of his mouth up just slightly.

"I do." Beth's face emanated certainty, if not a little wistful. "I think sometimes people meet in the strangest of circumstances. Like they weren't even looking for that one person. But then they find them and maybe it's not perfect but they have what time they are supposed to have together. Like Rose and Jack. They didn't get forever but they had what time they had on that ship. They made it last for as long as they could." She sighed and moved her hand from her chest to brush her hair back behind her ear.

Daryl's eyes roved over her. He was enthralled with how small her fingers were. How they came up to delicately tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, drifting back to her neck. He imagined what it might feel like to hold her hand again like they had in the cemetery. He thought about what it might be like to have her delicate fingers run over his chest. He took a deep breath. Get those thoughts out of your head Dixon.

"Daryl?" her voice was soft now.

He sighed. Endless questions with this one. But it was refreshing too.

"That one part where Jack sketches Rose in just the necklace." Her voice trails off and Daryl meets her eyes his pencil freezing on the paper. She is looking right at him and damn if she isn't fingering that necklace just like the chick in the movie did. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that sweet little Beth Greene was coming on to him. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it? If he was going to dig deep, and let's face it he wouldn't have to look that far, he would admit that he had seen the way she had looked at him. How she had seemed to wake up after that kitchen conversation, the one where he so stupidly was getting ready to lay out his feelings for her. Until the dog had interrupted. If he ever saw that mutt again he'd gladly give up his share of pigs' feet as a thank you for saving his sorry ass from making a damn fool of himself. He had to spend what looked like the rest of his life with her. If he went making it awkward, it was going to make life even more difficult than felling walkers and dispensing with bad guys.

But still she was looking at him now like- well, she was looking at him like no one had ever looked at him before. Like he was something to be desired. Oh sure, women had thrown themselves at him before. But Beth wasn't doing that. She was subtle. She was demure. Looking at her now, taking off her sweater, he thought, she's a damn vixen that's what she was. His eyes met hers and he glanced down at his paper debating on whether or not to show her. He decided he really didn't have anything to lose. He held it out for her to see, the drawing of her he'd been working on all morning. The others were stashed where she couldn't see them.

Beth narrowed her eyes to focus on what Daryl was holding up and she knew her jaw dropped open. There on the paper was a mirror reflection of herself. It was stunning and Beth was amazed. She thought she even looked pretty. She flushed then thinking that Daryl had done this. Daryl. He'd taken such care for detail the way he had shaded everything so perfectly and he had even drawn a braid in her hair. It was a facial portrait. "It's wonderful." She breathed. "Where did you learn to do that?" She had no idea that Daryl could draw or even that he possessed an inkling to do so. It went to show how much you could learn about a person given enough passage of time.

Again, he had to force himself not to shrug his shoulders. "I just started doing it when I was a kid, somethin' I did to pass the time." He smiled at her wryly then. "Kind of like I am now."

She sighed deeply. "We really have nothin' but time huh. Except." She broke off willing herself to stop right there. But he looked at her expectantly so she continued. "We don't really have that much time Daryl, when you think about it. It's just been us for all these weeks. Who knows if we even live out this night?" She paused. "Are you going to finish it?" She looked right into his eyes. She wanted him to draw her suddenly. She wanted it more than anything in this world. She wanted to be like Rose in that movie. She just needed some kind of sign that she wasn't imagining all this with Daryl. The last thing she wanted was to make him retreat back to his old ways like when they had first left the prison. She could take a lot of things but she couldn't take that. Not now.

Daryl couldn't help the shoulder shrug that time. "I dunno. I hadn't thought about it." He looked up at her, met her eyes. Looked into them like he did the night at the funeral home. "Would you want me to?"

Beth decided that was enough. It was hint enough that she wasn't crazy. She nodded. "Will you draw me?" She fingered her necklace. "Wearing this?"

Daryl nodded, his face flushing. He knew what she was going to say next. He nodded even as the words slipped from her lips. "Wearing only this?"

Beth's mouth went dry and she thought she could hear every thought ever uttered in this bunker. Daryl finally almost imperceptibly nodded. "Yeah." She fought against every fiber of her being to ask him something else but she felt that doing so would ruin the moment so she got up from the bed.

She moved her fingers to her blouse and tugged the hem of it up and over her head. Daryl's cock twitched in his pants as he realized that she was not wearing a bra. Her round perky breasts were perfect and he had a hard time reconciling the fact that he was sitting here staring at Beth Greene's tits but he was helpless to turn away. Truth be told he had been dreaming this for weeks now. She had invaded more than one of his dreams as of late.

Beth had never felt more provocative and more erotic than baring her chest to Daryl Dixon. She took that shirt off like it was something that she did for him every day. She couldn't help the natural inclination to arch her back. She liked the feeling she got when she saw his eyes. They had flashed quickly to hers before darting back down and she ran her tongue over her lips, her mouth suddenly bone dry at the thought of him touching her. But he hadn't agreed to that. Yet.

He looked down at his paper and back up at her again. She got nervous for a second that he was going to change his mind and tell her to put her clothes back on. When he didn't, she reached down and pulled her boots off. She never broke eye contact with him one time as she fumbled with the button at the top of her pants, finally freeing it and then sliding the zipper down ever so slowly, shimmying her pants down her legs. She was suddenly insanely happy that she had took the extra time to shave her legs at her last bath.

She stood back up and looked at Daryl who had dropped his pencil. She flashed him a grin as she looped her fingers inside her panties slipping them slowly over her hips and bending at the waist to pull them from her ankles. As she stood back up her eyes met his and her hands fluttered a little nervously at her necklace.

Daryl picked his pencil back up and wondered how in the hell he was going to concentrate on drawing when his cock was throbbing something awful. It was taking everything in him to keep from reaching down and palming it in his hand, anything to relieve the insane amount of pressure that was building up. She looked fucking perfect standing there. He flicked his finger towards the bed and hoped she understood that he wanted her to lie down. He didn't think his mouth would work if he tried. He cleared his throat and looked back to his paper as she positioned herself on the bed, laying her head back against the pillows and crossing her legs at the ankles. Her lips were parted and her eyes had transformed to dark pools of lust. Something wasn't right though. He realized suddenly that it was her hair.

"Take your hair down." His voice was gruff and she nodded at his request, reaching back to pull the hair tie from her hair, letting it fall to the bed and her hair cascading over her shoulders.

"Shall I take out the braid?" She fingered the strand of hair in question.

He shook his head. "Nah, leave it." As much as the perpetual braid bothered him, he had come to think of her with it, just characteristic of her.

Daryl began the sketch again, drawing the sharp angle of her neck and the slope of her shoulder before fleshing out the hard lines of her collar bone, the dip in the hollow of her neck, giving it the right amount of shading. He paused as he got to her breasts and looked up at her again. She was watching him carefully as she ran her hand down over the flat of her tummy and rested it on her hip. He had never been more aroused in his entire life and his fingers had never ached so bad to touch something. He drew the gentle swell of her breasts and as he got to the nipple of her left breast he looked up again, needing to get the shading just right. He erased it three times, sighing in frustration.

Beth was aching with need. Having him study her so openly while she was laid out for him, her body displayed was making her breathless. She clenched her thighs tightly to hopefully relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. She could feel wetness gathering between her legs and she could feel it seeping. She didn't know if he noticed or not but he was deeply intent on his drawing as he erased a few times, glancing up at her periodically. She shifted herself on the bed, knowing the new position gave him a better view below the waist.

Daryl shifted in his chair, trying to adjust his pants without being too obvious and he swallowed as he looked up at her again. She had moved from her original position and the way she was lying now he could clearly see the small triangle of curls. The way the light in the bunker was hitting her, he could see too the evidence of her desire, the telltale wetness mixed in with the curls at the top of her pussy. The thought of her all wet and waiting made him groan unconsciously and he looked at her, helpless with want. He wanted to get up and go to her. She was clearly as turned on as he was. But he wouldn't know the first thing about making a move on her.

Just when he thought he was destined to live out a life with a chronic erection, she cleared her throat. "Come here." It was a whisper. "I know you want to." There was no malice behind her words, just stating a fact and he put the drawing down, laying the pencil on top and standing to his full height. He crossed the room, drawing on a strength he didn't even know he had and sat down next to her on the bed. He wanted her all at once and yet wanted to just stare at her.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, you know that?" He whispered it reverently as he brought one tentative finger to the smooth of her pale, slender shoulder, tracing an imaginary line to her jaw and then her chin. He stilled his hand there, waiting a beat, needing some sign that he wasn't crossing a line here with her. He knew she had asked him to come to her, but it did nothing to squelch the ball of nerves he felt he had just swallowed.

Beth thrilled at his words. He thought she was beautiful? She reached up and curled her fingers around the collar of his shirt, her fingertips grazing the skin at the back of his neck. His hair was still a little damp from the bath she had finally coaxed him into taking.

"Kiss me. Please." She whispered it, her eyes searching his, his lids looking heavier than her own felt.

Daryl was helpless to comply, moving his hand from her jaw to the back of her head as he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. She parted her lips as they met and he slipped his tongue inside, groaning at the exquisite feeling.

Beth moaned against his mouth and teased his tongue with hers. He shifted on the bed and she heard a thud followed by another and she knew he had kicked his boots off. She sat up and moved her hands to the buttons on his shirt. ""S not fair, you're wearing way more clothes than me." She finished unbuttoning his pants and he stood up to shuck them, leaving him only in his boxers.

He smirked at her. "It wasn't my idea remember."

"You complainin'?" She said saucily.

He growled as he let his boxers fall to the floor and grinned at her as her eyes went wide at the size of his hardened cock. "Hell no." He answered as he laid down beside her.

He had cursed their bad luck when they ran into the herd and had to end up running back to this place. Now he realized that being trapped in here for the past two days might have been the best thing that ever happened to him.

"It's just like in the movie." She breathed, her expression a heady combination of awe and desire.

Daryl snorted. "Nah. Our version will be even better." He didn't know what made him so confident about that but he knew that loving Beth might take more time than they had in this bunker. As he pulled her into his arms, he dipped his head to hers claiming her lips with his and wondering what in the hell he had done in his life to deserve this angel beside him. Here he was in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse finding out that everything he thought about his life didn't matter one bit. The only thing that mattered was right in front of him. Beth. Now it felt like his life was just beginning.

I want to thank all the girls of the Bethyl Ghost chat who insisted that I write this prompt way back when. I don't want to leave anyone out by carpediem-365 requested it the most. Until next time, loves, xoxoxo