Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

A/N: For this oneshot, the shenanigans of the Grady Memorial Hospital never took place. Beth and Daryl leave the mortuary and meet up with Rick through the ill-fated encounter with Joe's group and continue into Terminus (as featured in the show). No useless Grady arc, no 'single child syndrome Maggie,' no meaningless deaths, and Beth made it to the Alexandria Safe Zone with the group.

…

Daryl was sitting on his couch, flipping through an old motorcycle magazine he'd taken from Aaron and Eric's garage, when his front door was thrown open and the doorstop spring clattered against the molding of the wall. The magazine fell from his hands and he was on his feet before he could register who had barged into his home.

"Beth?" He questioned warily when he saw a mop of tousled blonde hair in his doorway.

His eyes widened when she finished removing her boots and stood to her full height. She was dirty, covered in blood, and her long, thick hair was an absolute mess.

"What tha' fuck happened t'you?" Daryl spat as he closed the distance between them.

His hands grasped her shoulders while his eyes scanned her face, neck, arms, and any other exposed flesh for visible injuries.

"I'm fine," she murmured and brushed his hands away, "Just had 'ah close call s'all."

"How close?" His eyes narrowed as she moved past him.

Her shoulders tensed, but she made no reply.

"Beth," her name tumbled coarsely from his lips.

"I'm gonna' borrow your shower," she stated as she grabbed her pack and glanced over her shoulder.

Daryl grit his teeth and exhaled through his nose. It wasn't like Beth to avoid answering his questions unless the answer was something he wouldn't like hearing.

"Make yourself at home," he grumbled irritantly and moved back to plop down on the couch.

He picked up the discarded magazine and busied himself with flipping through the pages. When he reached the end of the magazine, he exhaled audibly, and turned back to the front cover in order to repeat his previous action. The pages, once captivating, now seemed blank as the image of Beth standing in his doorway clouded his vision.

Since escaping the prison together, Daryl had grown rather attached to the blonde, and their relationship had continued to flourish since reuniting with their 'family.' If the calendars were correct, it had been five months since they had all arrived at Alexandria. They'd each been given their own house, had jobs, and while it had taken him exceedingly longer than the others to be reintegrated into a societal atmosphere, he was finally beginning to carve out his own little niche. Aaron and Carol had both played significant roles in expediting his transition, but it was because of Beth, who had broken down his walls all those months ago while they were on the run, that he found himself trying to get along with the others of the community. He was still surly, according to Beth, but he had eventually begun nodding to someone who bid him good morning or shaking a hand that had been outstretched towards him. Merle would probably give him hell for acting 'citified,' but Beth's appreciative smile vastly outweighed what he imagined Merle might have thought about his actions. The only unnerving detail about the entire situation was that his carefully built walls seemed to have remained in tatters when it came to Beth.

He finally gave up rifling through the magazine and tossed it onto the table. Pushing off of the couch, he stood and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pull out a dark brown bottle. The beer itself no longer held a taste that anyone could consider palatable after sitting in a broken convenient store refrigerator for two and a half years, but it contained alcohol and Daryl had a feeling he would need 'help' in order to handle whatever Beth threw at him once she reemerged from the shower.

He was leaning back against the sink, nursing his Miller Light, when the thrumming of water through pipes abruptly ended. Tilting the bottle high in the air, he finished the remaining contents and tossed the glass bottle into the trash. Beth rounded the corner soon thereafter, her head tilted to the side as she used one of his dark blue towels to dry her hair, and he could see the droplets of water sliding down her neck. She was clad in one of his flannel shirts that reached her mid thighs and nothing more. He coughed and averted his gaze, not used to seeing so much of Beth's firm, slender legs visible as she meandered around his kitchen. Placing the towel on the counter, she began rummaging through the cabinet drawers, completely ignoring his existence and showing no discomfort by her lack of dress.

His gaze wandered from the unbuttoned collar that exposed her chest and neckline, to where the rolled up sleeves rested against her forearms, and when his vision began to drift below the hem of his shirt, he forced his eyes back to her now clean face. She had often stayed at his place, despite having her own room in Glenn and Maggie's house, and would crash on the couch or sleep in his bed if he was outside the walls with Aaron. He could imagine how uncomfortable it felt living with a married couple finally getting to play 'house,' so he'd never made an issue out of it, but he was sure Maggie would have had something to say about the matter. However, the older Greene had never voiced her opinion and by now Beth probably had more clothes at his house than she did her own.

He wasn't exactly sure how to define his and Beth's relationship. They had shared their first kiss a few weeks ago, under the stars, on the anniversary of Hershel's death. They didn't know the exact date, but Beth had been especially morose the entire day, and after a brief conversation revolving around how much Hershel would have liked Alexandria, Daryl had put the pieces together. It had been an impromptu gesture, simple and innocent. Her way of saying 'thank you' while he'd stood outside with her and listened to her reminisce until she was too tired to continue, but to Daryl it had been so much more. It had been acceptance. Thus when she'd been in a particularly mischievous mood, stealing his whetstone and racing around the house in order to keep it from him, his initiation of their second kiss had been nothing like their first. He'd cornered her like she was prey and let his fingers sink into the soft flesh of her hips, covered by a thin tank top, to keep her from escaping. The atmosphere had changed so suddenly that Daryl had found himself leaning into her before his mind could even register what he'd intended to do. It had been exhilarating the way she had molded against him. When he'd been close enough to feel her breath fanning across his heated skin and she didn't back away, the look in her eyes a challenge, it was all the permission he'd needed. She kissed like she lived; full of warmth and passion. The way her lips had moved against his while her hands grasped at his shirt, raked through his hair, cupped his face, releasing the pent up tension that had been floating between them for months was enough to have Daryl throwing caution to the wind. Had it not been for Aaron and Eric's impromptu visit, inviting them over for Spaghetti Tuesday, he wasn't sure where things would have gone that night.

A clatter atop the counter in front of him made him flinch; effectively breaking him from his thoughts.

"I want you t'cut it off," Beth stated firmly, hand still resting on the sharp object lying on the speckled granite of the kitchen island.

"Pardon?" Daryl questioned confusedly.

"My hair," she huffed, "I want you to cut it off."

"You want me t'what?" He asked while glancing down at the scissors underneath her hand.

"I want you t'cut...my...hair," she accentuated the last three words carefully.

"I heard ya' the first time," he replied incredulously, "What's this about all of 'ah sudden?"

"It's not 'ah hard concept t'grasp Daryl," she seethed, "My hair. It's too long. It doesn't fit our lifestyle now and it needs t'go."

"This have somethin' to do with why you came in covered in walker blood and lookin' like you been rollin' in the dirt?" He crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke.

Beth's eyes danced between his narrowed ones and after several heartbeats, her shoulders sagged, hands falling limply as her sides, and her gazed dropped to the floor.

"Beth?" He queried softly, "What happened?"

He heard her sniff while she brought a hand up to furiously swipe away tears he couldn't see.

"Talk t'me," he encouraged, uncrossing his arms and tentatively stepping closer.

"The run I went on this mornin' to that drug store outside of D.C. with Glenn and 'ah few other guys," she began, "It went badly. We came across 'ah herd. It wasn't too big, but it was more than we could handle."

Daryl's brows furrowed, but he made no comment.

"We were runnin' back towards tha' van, but my hair got stuck on somethin'. I tried to pull away and realized 'ah walker had grabbed me. I sliced at its arm, kicked at its legs, tried twistin' away from it, but it just wouldn't let go," her hands fisted tightly at her sides as she continued, "The others kept runnin', but Glenn turned back and got it off of me. If he hadn't been with us…"

"But he was," Daryl attempted to comfort her, "and it could've still grabbed your shirt or somethin'."

"I could've gotten myself and my brother-in-law killed because of my stupid hair," Beth glared up at him, "My own niece or nephew would have grown up without an aunt or 'ah father because I was too stubborn and refused t'let this world change everything about me."

"I thought you said you wanted t'change," he wasn't following her train of thought.

The look Beth gave him clearly expressed that his response had not been the one she was looking for.

"I jus' want you t'give me a haircut," Beth slide the scissors towards him and moved her hand back to her side.

"Why can't ya' get Maggie t'do it?" Daryl asked, realizing Beth was set on him cutting her hair.

"I am not askin' my sister who is six months pregnant to stand on her feet and give me a haircut," she leveled him with a stare and placed a hand on her hip.

"Then go ask Jesse. She's into that…girly shit," Daryl suggested, desperately trying to get out of the requested task.

"She was a beautician," Beth corrected.

"Exactly my point," Daryl slid the scissors back in front of her.

"Jesse's nice and all, but if there's one thing Carol's taught me, it's never trust tha' quiet ones," Beth retorted, pushing the stainless steel scissors back towards him and keeping her hand on top of them, "'Sides, there's not many people I'd let have 'ah pair of sharp scissors near my neck."

Daryl sighed and begrudgingly admitted defeat.

"Fine," he grumbled and placed his hand on top of hers, "But I ain't no beautician so if I fuck up your hair, I don't wanna' hear 'ah word about it."

"Yes Mr. Dixon," she replied in a sing-songy voice and withdrew her hand from under his, "but I trust you. You won't 'fuck it up.'"

"C'mon," he huffed and slid the scissors off of the counter, "We'll cut it on tha' back porch."

"Lemme' grab my brush," she declared as she trotted back towards the bathroom.

Grabbing a barstool from in front of the island, he hauled it out the backdoor. A few moments later, Beth stood next to him and took a seat atop the wooden stool.

"You sure 'bout this?" He questioned one last time in the hopes that she would change her mind.

She lifted her arm and offered him the brush over her shoulder, "Positive."

He took the brush from her and exhaled loudly as he examined her hair. It was long, tumbling past her shoulder blades to the middle of her back in loose waves, and Daryl suddenly realized he would be sad to see it go. Raising the brush to the top of her head, he tenderly ran the bristles through the length of her hair. His knuckles ran across the soft tendrils and he couldn't resist running his fingers through it at least once before it was gone. The golden strands were still slightly damp from the shower, but it was like running his hands over silk. He heard her sigh as he alternated between using his fingers and the brush to detangle her hair.

"Soft," he murmured under his breath.

"I found some shampoo and conditioner at tha' drug store before we had t'run," she informed him as he ran his fingernails over her scalp and down to the tips of her hair, "It's got coconut milk in it."

He paused his ministrations to curl his fingers around a segment of her hair and lifted it to his lips. He inhaled deeply, smelling the subtle scent coating each strand, before letting her silky tresses slip through his fingers. Clearing his throat, he ran the brush down her hair to smooth down the traces his caress had left in her hair.

"What d'you want me to do?" He asked after the third stroke of the brush.

"Just cut it straight across," she lulled, "Right above my shoulders."

"Alright," Daryl moved around to her side and clasped her hair between his middle and index finger, "Here goes nothin'."

Opening the scissors and sliding them just under the juncture of his fingers, he squeezed the rings of the clippers back together in one crisp movement. Daryl exhaled as strands of blonde hair drifted onto his wooden deck. Glancing over Beth's face, he saw her eyes screwed shut and her bottom lip buried between her teeth.

"You alright?" He asked in concern.

"I'm fine," she opened her eyes and sighed, "Worst parts over."

Beth had seemed so resolute in getting her hair cut that he hadn't considered it might have been a front in order to keep herself from changing her mind.

"It's just hair," Daryl stated reassuringly, "It'll grow back if you let it."

"I know," she replied softly.

Daryl pulled at a new section of hair, stopping his fingers where the segment he'd just cut ended, and the sound of the scissors slicing through her hair filled the silence between them.

Daryl had been incredibly nervous when he'd begun cutting her hair, but after a few snips, he'd harnessed a steady rhythm. Her soft hair caught on the callouses adorning his fingers and he'd had to slide them over some segments several times before he felt confident to cut the hair, but overall it was going smoothly. He'd never been to a barber shop or hair salon, opting to buy his own clippers and use the longer comb to trim his hair and save money, but cutting Beth's hair was somewhat relaxing. It kept his hands busy and his mind focused. He'd still oppose if she ever asked him to cut her hair again, but he decided he wouldn't put up quite as much of a fight next time. Gliding the scissors across another segment of hair, feeling her more at ease, he decided to ask the question that he'd been mulling over since she explained what had happened that morning.

"Did everyone make it back from tha' run?" He questioned quietly as more hair fell to the ground.

"Yeah," Beth hummed, "No one was hurt and Christian was actually able t'grab some of tha' medications we needed before we had to get out of there."

Daryl nodded and then realized she couldn't see him, "That's good."

Snipping the last section of hair, Daryl stepped back to admire his work. It was by no means prefect, but it was as even as he would ever be able to get it. The blonde tips now brushed the tops of her shoulders, as she had requested, and as short if not shorter than Maggie's hair.

"All done?" Beth peeked over her shoulder at him.

"Think so," he gave her a nod.

"'Kay," she hopped of the stool and glanced at the deck beneath their feet, "That's a lotta' hair."

"No shit," he snorted, "I had 'ah hell of a time cuttin' it all off."

She smiled and shook her head, "Well I appreciate it."

Daryl smirked and stepped closer, brushing the shorter strands out of her face to rest behind her ear, "You wanna' go take 'ah look?"

She nodded and moved around him to enter the house.

He followed behind her, into the bathroom, and watched her expression as she examined herself in the mirror.

"What do ya' think?" He asked when she had yet to make a comment.

"Well I asked you t'cut it all off," she spoke, turning her head from side to side, "It's definitely short."

"Don't look bad," Daryl felt compelled to say.

"You think so?" She smiled at him in the mirror.

"Nah," he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, "Suits you."

"More than my hair bein' long?" She turned away from her reflection and there was a glint in her eye that had Daryl swallowing air.

"I, uh…," he fumbled, "They both look alright on you."

"Just alright?" She asked, tilting her head and stepping towards him.

"Good," he corrected, "They both look good on you."

She stopped in front on him, placing her hands on his crossed forearms, and lifted herself up on her toes, "Good."

He furrowed his brows, unsure whether he should lean in or if she was just teasing him, until he felt her warm lips brush against his. He exhaled through his nose, uncrossing his arms and burying his hands in the silky strands that fell around the sides of her face. His thumbs stroked absently against her cheeks and his lips pressed harder against hers. He couldn't get close enough. Even as he felt her pressed against him, her small hands gripping tightly at the sides of his shirt, he wasn't satisfied. Her tongue darted across his lips and Daryl felt as if his flesh was on fire.

Removing one hand from her hair to hook around her waist, he pulled her impossibly closer, dipping her back so he could have more access to her luscious mouth. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and before he could stop her, she had her warm fingers sliding over his searing skin. The hand resting on the small of her back fisted the material of the shirt she was barrowing, inching the hem of the shirt even higher up her thighs, while the other cradled the back of her head. When he felt her teeth scrape over his bottom lip, inhaling her intoxicating scent, his restraint was shattered.

Plunging his tongue into her mouth, he lowered his hands to the back of her thighs and lifted her off the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands slid through his hair, and her mouth moved fervently against his. When he squeezed her thighs, a tiny sound escaped her, and Daryl nearly came undone where he stood. Stepping carefully, he began moving towards the bedroom when a knock sounded at the door. Freezing mid-kiss, Daryl's eyes snapped open and slanted in the direction of the door. If they were quiet, he hoped whoever it was would go away, allowing them to resume their previous activity.

Another knock sounded and Beth parted her lips from his.

"You should get it," she whispered.

"Fuck 'em," Daryl practically hissed, "If it was somethin' important they'd come in-"

"Daryl?" A voice sounded.

Daryl's head dropped to rest against Beth's collar bone as he sighed dejectedly.

"Beth?" The voiced called out again.

Beth's hand came to rest on the back of his neck, "Yeah?"

"I was just coming to see if you and Daryl wanted to join us for dinner?" Aaron's voice sounded closer with each word.

Realizing their uninvited guest was approaching them, Daryl promptly set Beth down and ushered her back into the bathroom. Standing in front of the door to block her from view, Aaron rounded the corner of the living room and Daryl cringed at the change in his scouting partner's expression. It was obvious what they had been doing. Daryl's shirt was still open, he was sure his hair was horrendously disheveled, and his lips felt tender.

"Oh…my…gosh," Aaron's eyes were wide, "I am so sorry. I had no idea you were in the middle of…whatever it was you were in the middle of."

Daryl felt a different kind of heat growing up the back of his neck and wrapping around to his cheeks.

"I'm, um, just gonna' go," Aaron gestured with a hand towards the door, "and pretend I didn't see anything."

"Yeah," Daryl groused and glanced over his shoulder at Beth, now wearing her dirty jeans.

"What time is dinner?" Beth asked stepping out from behind him, looking much more put together than she had a moment ago.

"Uh, in half an hour," Aaron's gaze flickered from Daryl to Beth and back again.

"We'll be there," she replied with a smile.

Aaron flashed a smile of his own and turned to leave before mumbling, "You're hair looks nice Beth," and promptly fleeing the house.

"Well that was unexpected," she breathed and tucked her hands in the back pocket of her jeans.

Daryl couldn't help the frustrated chuckle that followed, "That's tha' second time he's interrupted us."

"Yeah," Beth hummed, "But I bet you he doesn't come burstin' into your house again."

"Damn right," Daryl smirked.

The stared at each other for a moment before Beth stood up on her toes and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. He leaned into her, embracing the soothing sensation that washed over him.

She pulled back and he was greeted by one of the smiles she reserved only for him, "Thank you."

"Fer' what?" His brows creased together as he spoke.

"For cuttin' my hair," she explained, "And for understanin'."

He did understand. He knew that she had played out all the possibilities of what might have happened and forced herself to do the only thing she could to make sure the situation never happened again.

"From now on, if you wanna' go outside tha' walls, you come with me and Aaron," he ordered tenderly.

Beth narrowed her eyes.

"I know ya' can handle yourself," he added quickly, "I just wanna' make sure that you're looked after when you go outside the walls."

Beth exhaled, seemingly appeased, and replied, "Fine, but only because I'll get t'use your crossbow."

Daryl smirked as she walked past him into his bedroom.

"You should change," she commented while digging through her drawer of his dresser, "I'll need to find some thread t'fix the buttons on your shirt."

Daryl's brows pinched together in confusion and he glanced down at his shirt. He noticed two places were a button should have been, occupied only by the thread that had once held the shiny circular fastens in place.

He moved to his closet, keeping his back towards Beth as she changed, and pulled a long sleeved, gray and white plaid shirt off the hanger. He hesitated in taking off his shirt, knowing his scars would be bare for her to see. He'd told her briefly how he'd gotten them, but that didn't make her actually seeing them any easier. Tightening his jaw, he slid the sleeveless shirt from his shoulders and let it crumple on the ground. Sliding one arm into the sleeve of the article he'd just pulled from the closet, he stopped when warm fingers drifted across his back. A gentle kiss over a scar he knew was especially jagged had him releasing the breath he'd been holding.

"I'm gonna' sweep off the porch," she announced, fingers lingering on his back a moment longer, before she left the room.

Daryl watched her leave, his lips forming a small smile, and pulled on the shirt the rest of the way.

He exited his room and stood in the kitchen, watching her as she swept away the remains of her long, golden strands, admiring the way her now short hair framed her face. She looked up and smiled at him, returning her attention to the porch soon after, and Daryl relished in the small bit of normalcy they had been able to create in their tattered world. He moved forward, taking the barstool from her as she came back into the house, while she dumped the contents of the dustpan into the trash before putting away the broom.

"You ready?" She asked, wiping her hands across the back of her jeans.

"You know he told Eric what he saw," Daryl admitted dismally.

"Probably," she shrugged.

"They're gonna' say somethin'," Daryl's voice came out rough.

"We gave them plenty of reason to," she smiled over her shoulder while moving across the living room.

Daryl gave her a look as they stopped at the front door.

"It's not that big of 'ah deal," Beth turned and pressed her back against the door, "They'll probably sneak some looks at each other and smile, but I don't see Aaron saying anything with how embarrassed he was. Eric….Eric will definitely say somethin'."

Daryl ran a hand through his hair.

"It'll be fine," Beth reached out and took his hand, "C'mon. Let's jus' get it over with. I'm starving."

Daryl heaved a breath and allowed Beth to pull him out of the house, her short hair swaying in the breeze. He supposed it could have been worse. They hadn't actually been caught in the act and it had been Aaron rather than Maggie or Glenn. There was also a chance that Aaron would keep his word, pretending he'd never seen anything, and not tell Eric.

He stood behind Beth as she knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for one of the men to answer. When Eric threw the door open, a wide smile on his face, and wrapped his arms around Beth, he knew Aaron had blabbered.

"I'm so happy for you both!" Eric burst, "I was beginning to think that we were gonna' to have to start playing matchmaker if you two didn't get together soon!"

Aaron was conspicuously missing from the living area and if it hadn't been for Beth's hand still firmly grasping his, Daryl would have turned around and marched back to his house.

"Come in, come in," Eric allowed Beth to pass before giving Daryl a brilliant smile, "Aaron's in the kitchen finishing the food."

Beth didn't let go of his hand until they were both seated and the dishes had placed on the dining table. Aaron had remained in the kitchen, no doubt avoiding them for as long as possible, and when he finally emerged with an expression of guilt etched in his features, Daryl couldn't bring himself to admonish his colleague.

"So," Eric drawled, clasping his hands excitedly, "Who's hungry?"

Dinner passed with relative ease. Just as Beth had predicted, Eric kept sending Aaron looks across the table every time Beth leaned in Daryl's direction or if he offered to get her another glass of wine, but neither said anything more after Eric's congratulatory comment at the door. The conversations ranged from how Maggie's health was faring to where Aaron, Beth, and Daryl should scout for survivors next. Aaron had readily accepted Beth tagging along with them and was excited of the prospect of having someone a little more 'people friendly' to help him bring in survivors. The initial discomfort of seeing Aaron after he had nearly walked in on them passed quickly and Daryl found himself enjoying the meal Eric had made for them.

As Eric and Aaron escorted them to the door, ready to bid them goodnight, Aaron smiled at Daryl and offered him an outstretched hand.

"I didn't tell Eric," he stated, causing Daryl to raise an eyebrow skeptically, "He saw the look on my face when I got back to the house, knowing I'd gone to your place to invite the two of you over for dinner, and he just put two and two together."

"Don't matter," Daryl retorted and realized he actually meant it while he shook Aaron's hand.

"We really are happy for you two," Aaron continued, "There's so much death and sorrow in the world, it's nice to see people can still find happiness."

Daryl glanced at Beth, talking animatedly with Eric who had complimented her new hairstyle, "Yeah. S'pose you're right."

They said their goodbyes and Daryl walked beside Beth as the covered the short distance toward Daryl's house.

"Told ya' it wouldn't be so bad," Beth bumped him with her shoulder.

Daryl nodded absently, replaying the words Aaron had said to him on the porch.

"You okay?" Beth asked, peering at him through the fringe hiding his eyes.

"Fine," he mumbled and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Aaron was right. They had all experienced so much pain and loss the past few years, but he could honestly say that the time he'd spent with Beth had been the happiest he'd ever felt. He was used to things being bad. Things being hard. Beth was like a breath of fresh air and he never wanted to go back to the stale life he'd been living before.

As they walked down the asphalt road, approaching his house, he tried to decide what he wanted to say to Beth to make her stay. He slowed his pace, allowed her to get a few steps in front of him, before he came to a halt at the foot of his stairs.

"Why don't you bring tha' rest of your stuff over," Daryl's voice drifted through the dark, "keep it at my place."

Beth stopped walking up the steps of the porch and turned to look at him, "Are you askin' me to move in with you?"

Daryl shrugged, "You practically live with me as it is. Might as well have all your stuff here."

Beth's smile seemed to light up the darkness around them.

"Okay," she replied softly.

"Okay," he repeated and gave her a smirk that could have almost counted as a smile.

He knew they would face many more hardships. That life wouldn't be easy and simple like she deserved, but they had something and he was willing to do whatever it took to keep the small shred of peace he'd found with her.

As the stood in the darkness, staring at one another, he felt in awe of the woman before him. She wasn't the strongest physically, but she had a fire within her that shined even in the darkest of times. She had kept him going. She had seen him at his best and at his worst, accepting both of them and holding her own against him. She was the one good thing in his life that he could claim solely for himself. She was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Beth was his happiness.

…

A/N: I was requested to write a story about Daryl giving Beth a haircut by no-place-like-it on tumblr! I hope this story met your expectations and thank you for the prompt request!

Hope you guys enjoyed this! I have another prompt request that I will try to have posted before I leave Wednesday!