Now, Paul isn't a bad owner. Not at all.

His cat is happy and well taken care of - so much you could even consider her spoiled - ever since he found her in the streets. The best food and toys he can afford, always ready to both give attention and respect her space when necessary; really, that cat has a better life than him!

So why, pray and tell, Judas would always randomly disappear on him Paul simply doesn't know. Maybe he wasn't so wrong when picking the name, even if it had been a joke at first.

And that brings him here.

"I know you're awake, Daryl!" He knocks again on the 24B apartment's door, the act almost routine now. "Either you answer the door or I'll keep knocking and we will both get evicted. Your choice."

Three seconds later when the door opens violently Paul has to control himself as to not jump, then to not stare as Daryl's shirtless torso is suddenly right there in his face, now visible through the wide open gap from the door.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, what."

"It's just 'Jesus', thanks," Paul doesn't resist the cheeky reply. "Hi."

"Fuck off."

"No need to be hostile. Look I know it's three in the morning, but I can't find my cat."

Daryl stares at him for a few seconds before closing the door on his face, like the damn asshole he is.

"Come on now, please Daryl! I need her, ok? I need to find her."

A snort from the other side and the door opens again. "Fine, come in."

The first thing Paul notices as he enters the apartment for the first time is that it's not that different from his own but a lot more bare, with very few personal things around as if the other was expecting to flee at anytime. The second thing he notices is that, unfortunately, Daryl has put on a shirt. Or is it fortunately? Paul isn't sure he'd be able to pay attention otherwise.

"I just don't understand why she keeps coming here," he comments trying his best to not sound upset.

He looks around, looking for any sign of the scarred black ball of fur. Instead he sees a crossbow on top of the table and a bloody bag. That's a normal thing to have, right? If you're a hunter or maybe...

Please don't be a serial killer, Paul begs mentally. God, please don't let my hot neighbor be a serial killer. Please don't let my hot neighbor whose apartment I just entered alone be a serial killer.

"Maybe it's 'cause yer a shitty owner."

"I'm a great owner, thank you very much," Paul replies a bit defensively. "Maybe you keep putting out food for her. I did notice she's getting fatter and it isn't because of me."

It wasn't a real accusation, but Daryl seems to have taken offense anyway. "The hell would I do that' for?"

"I have no idea, why would you?" The teasing in his voice is now clear. Paul smiles as the other glares at him angrily. "Maybe you want to steal her away from me, her rightful owner. Or maybe… maybe you just want me to keep coming here and bothering you about it. Maybe you like my company."

"Or maybe she comes here to eat jus' cause ya starve her and I hate yer guts."

Though the man's gruff answer was curtly, Paul could see the red that tinted the tip of his ears. Playing with Daryl and driving him to the edge is always fun if only for his reactions.

"I don't starve her, she has a diet to follow. There's a difference." He realizes what Daryl just said. "So you admit that you're feeding her? It's ok, you can say it. I know you have a soft spot for my cat."

"I ain't feeding yer damn cat, shut it," Daryl denies instead, leaving the room supposedly to look for Judas. It's not long before he comes back with the cat in his - big, trunk-like and deliciously exposed - arms. "Here, time to go home, Darlin'. Yer shit owner is here."

Paul accepts the cat in his arms, hugging her. "Her name is Judas."

"That's a stupid ass name, jus' like Jesus. I ain't callin' her that."

Judas makes an agreeing meow in his arms, and he can't tell which side she's on so he pretends its his. By the smug look on his face, Daryl did the same thing. "Thank you, Daryl."

The man nods at him, watching as he hugs his cat and plays with her little paws. Most people didn't expect a cat that looked that intimidating to be this playful or cuddly, given the scars on her little face and one of her missing ears, but ever since Paul gained her trust Judas was the closest thing he had for a family. He gives the top of her head a quick kiss as she purrs at him.

"Why dja need her so bad?"

"Huh?" Paul tries to play innocent, but Daryl just stares at him not fooled for a second. He sighs. "Just… it's going to sound pathetic, ok? But I had a nightmare and she's usually there to help me. I couldn't go back to sleep so I just—I needed her. Go ahead and laugh."

He readies himself for the mocking comment. Instead, Daryl surprises him by just looking like he understood, even if slightly guilty, and he cleans his throat before speaking again hesitant.

"You wanna talk 'bout it?"

"Do you?"

Daryl shrugs, staring at him for a second before turning away. "Fuck this. Go sit down, I'm gettin' us some beers. You ain't leavin' yet, ya won't be able to sleep anyway so stay."

Paul does as he says, going to sit down on the world's ugliest second-hand couch and setting Judas down next to him, letting her play with his hand. The couch is, and he admits it with a broken heart, way more comfortable than his own. It's not long before Daryl hands him a can and sits next to him.

They drink in silence for awhile, the only sound echoing through the apartment being of Judas' playful attacks.

"How dja know I was awake?"

"I heard you pacing around your apartment."

Sometimes hearing it helps me calm down when I have a nightmare - Judas in my lap and your steps through the wall. Knowing you're there and I'm not alone in the world.

Even if it worries me how much you seem to do it.

He doesn't say any of it, choosing instead to down his beer and look at his cat who decided to calm down and was now snoring quietly between the two of them, looking like she belonged there.

"Nightmares," Daryl explains quietly after a while. "I got them a lot too."

Paul looks at him, eye to eye. "Yeah?"

"I'm real glad you have yer cat."

"Me too." He nods, a soft smile on his lips. "I'm glad to have you here, too."

There's a second where Daryl doesn't really seem to know how to react, his face going red and his mouth open slightly, but then he too smiles and moves closer a bit. Time seems to go slower as they move towards each other, closing their eyes, before Judas suddenly jumps up and runs out of the couch startling them both.

"The hell, Darlin'?!"

"Judas, your traitor!"

Jesus lets out a nervous chuckle, not knowing what to do after their moment was interrupted, but as he looks at where Judas went he notices something and squints a bit to see better, not trusting his eyes.

"Wait… is that a food bowl?! Daryl!"