Chapter 14 - Daryl

I don't think I'd ever dug a grave as fast as I had tonight. The dirt felt cold in my hands, but I shoveled it in without a second thought. It may have been callous, but I couldn't stop myself. My thoughts were elsewhere. Ella had thrown herself into my arms. She had held me like I was the one thing she needed in this fucked-up world. I could still feel the way she wrapped herself around me, clinging to me, her warmth seeping into my bones, and it nearly broke me. I could've kissed her right then and there—hell, I wanted to—but I held back, knowing that we were both still on shaky ground.

But all I could think about was going home, going to her, and seeing if there was a way to piece us back together. I needed that more than I needed the air in my lungs.

When the last bit of dirt covered Pete's body, I shoved the shovel into Abraham's hand.

"Hey!" Abraham shouted after me, his voice sharp with irritation. "What the fuck!"

"Busy!" I yelled back over my shoulder as I started running. My heart pounded against my chest as I sprinted toward the house, and it wasn't from the run. The adrenaline was real, but so was the fear and the hope bubbling up inside me. What if I got there and things weren't the same? What if she had pushed me away again?

By the time I reached the front door, my legs were burning, but my chest felt tighter, heavier. I stepped onto the porch, the cool air biting at my skin, and entered the house, silently praying she'd be waiting for me.

The house was dark—too dark—and my heart sank as I crossed the threshold and realized that the living room was empty. The silence felt suffocating. She wasn't there.

I exhaled slowly, the disappointment slamming into me. Had she decided it wasn't worth it? Was she pulling away again? Maybe that hug had just been an instinct, a moment of weakness she would regret. I dragged my hand over my face, trying to shake off the panic swirling in my stomach.

I moved toward the couch, my eyes scanning the room in a haze. But then, I stopped short.

"Oh, what the fuck?" I muttered under my breath.

Carl was sprawled out on the couch, his back against the cushions, his face relaxed in sleep. The sight of him sent a surge of frustration and confusion through me.

"Great. First she throws herself into my arms, and now she's kicking me the fuck out again," I growled under my breath. I stood there for a second, frozen, wondering if I was just fooling myself. Was this another sign? Another rejection? Was this her way of telling me to get lost?

"She's not throwing you out," Carl whispered, barely opening his eyes as he stirred on the couch. "She wants you to go upstairs."

I blinked at him, still trying to process. "What do you mean, upstairs?"

Carl shifted, clearly not wanting to make eye contact. "She wants you to sleep in your bedroom... with her." His face turned a shade of red I hadn't seen in a while. "But please remember that I'm down here. And I don't want to hear you having sex with her."

I growled low in my throat, frustration clawing at me. I kicked the couch leg in irritation.

"Asshole!" Carl hissed as I turned and started climbing the stairs.

My heart thundered in my chest as I ascended, every step heavier than the last. The door to our bedroom was closed. I hesitated, my hand on the knob, unsure if I was ready to face the next moment.

I knocked softly at first, but when no answer came, I reached for the handle and let myself in.

The bedroom was dim, shadows draped over the walls as I stepped inside, the light from the bathroom spilling across the floor. The sound of the shower running only made the tension in my chest coil tighter. I could hear her, feel her presence in the air, and my thoughts were spinning faster than I could catch them. My jeans felt too tight, my pulse quickened, and my mind raced in a hundred different directions.

I stood there for a moment, frozen, trying to calm the storm that was building inside me. I couldn't just leap into this, could I? She had thrown herself into my arms earlier, had let me hold her—but now? Was she still nervous? Was she even ready for me like that? I couldn't be sure, and I had no idea if I was allowed to kiss her yet, to pull her closer, to do any of the things I desperately wanted to do.

Then the water stopped.

My heart skipped a beat. My body tensed, like a rubber band pulled too tight. What was I supposed to do now? Was this it? Was she going to walk out here, and was I going to screw it all up by doing something wrong? My hands were shaking as I turned away, trying to keep my thoughts from taking over, trying to push away the worry that had me so tightly wound. I had to keep it together.

Before I could think myself into a frenzy, the bathroom door swung open, and she stepped out.

Ella.

The steam from the shower swirled around her as she emerged, her damp hair falling in soft waves around her face. The towel was wrapped around her body, barely clinging to her as she walked into the room. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the pink flush spread across her cheeks, just as my pulse jumped.

God, she was more beautiful than I remembered, her skin glowing, her body still so familiar yet so... new. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again, and everything in me wanted to pull her close, to kiss her, to make sure she was mine again.

"Hi," she said softly, her voice quieter than usual, the words almost a breath.

"Hi," I muttered, clearing my throat. I hiked my thumb over my shoulder, trying to keep it casual, though my heart was hammering in my chest. "Carl told me to come up here."

Ella's blush deepened, and she quickly gripped the towel tighter, her fingers trembling just slightly. "That little...," she sighed, a mix of frustration and amusement in her voice. "I told him to go to sleep."

I laughed, the sound awkward and rushed. "Thank God he didn't. When I saw him on the couch, I thought it meant you were kickin' me out."

Her eyes widened, and I saw the shock on her face. She shook her head quickly, stepping a little closer to me. "No, Daryl. I wouldn't do that. I want you here. I told you... I want to fix this."

I felt a weight lift off my chest at her words, but it didn't stop the nervous energy that crackled between us. I nodded, still frozen in place near the door. "I do too."

She moved toward the closet, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. The soft sway of her body as she moved was enough to have my mind racing again. She reached for the door, her fingers hesitating before she spoke again. "I guess I'll get dressed. We can talk about this. Or, if you're tired, we can just go to bed."

"I ain't tired," I said quickly, the words coming out too fast. My voice cracked, betraying the tension I was feeling. I had to force myself to look away from her, to focus. It was taking all my willpower not to stare at her—her skin flushed under the towel, her body so close. It had been two months since I'd touched her, since we'd been together, and it felt like every part of me was screaming to fix it, to fix us. But now wasn't the time to let my desires take over. I swallowed hard. "Do you want me to..."

I shifted, unsure if I should stay or go. I had seen her naked more times than I could count, hell, I had been there when she gave birth. But tonight, in this moment, everything felt like the first time again. Every movement, every inch of her, felt like a discovery.

"No," she whispered, not meeting my gaze as she ran her hand along the edge of the closet door. "Stay. Please."

I nodded silently, the words caught in my throat. Without thinking, I kicked off my boots, my body moving almost on instinct. I stripped off my jacket and vest, the soft rustle of the fabric the only sound in the room as I undid the buttons. My heartbeat was a drum in my ears, and I could feel the tension between us growing with every second, thick enough to touch.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her fingers still hovering on the closet door. I didn't want to rush this. I wanted to savor it, every moment of this fragile, quiet moment. We were close, so close, and yet it felt like we were on the edge of something much bigger. What would it be like once I held her again? Once we tried to find our way back to each other?

I licked my lips, the air thick with anticipation, and waited. I wasn't sure what would come next, but for the first time in a long while, I wasn't afraid to find out.

"Listen," I sighed, needing to break the tension. "I'm not sure what's okay, what you're comfortable with and all."

Ella turned then, her eyes locking onto mine. "I'm not sure what I'm comfortable with either. But I want to try. I want us to get through this. I want you."

Ella smiled softly as she finally opened the closet, searching for something to wear for the night. I stayed seated on the edge of the bed, stripping off my jeans and shirt, feeling the weight of the air between us. I tried not to stare as she changed, but my heart was pounding. It was hard not to feel the pull, the magnetic tension between us.

When she crawled onto the bed and sat facing me, I felt my heart rate spike. She was close—closer than we had been in weeks. The distance was closing, but it was still there, hovering like a wall neither of us knew how to tear down.

"So, let's talk," she said, her voice quiet but firm, as if she was setting the tone for what needed to come next.

"Okay," I responded, unsure of where to begin. The silence stretched between us like a canyon, but I wasn't going to pull away now. I had to say it. "Um, I guess I'll go first." She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. I shifted, leaning back against the headboard, stretching my legs out in front of me, trying to find some comfort in the vulnerability of the moment. "When I found you, when all the shit with Paul went down... you flinched when I tried to touch you."

Ella's eyes flickered down, and I saw the pain in them, the rawness of everything that had happened. She nodded slowly. "I couldn't handle it then. The thought of you touching me after Paul made me..." She paused, swallowing hard. "Made me touch him. It made me feel disgusting."

Her words hit me like a physical blow, and I could barely breathe. She wasn't afraid of me. She was afraid of herself. And that, I realized, hurt more than anything.

She continued, her voice trembling. "I wasn't afraid of you. I was afraid that you would hate me for what he made me do. For how weak he made me feel. He... he threatened Ian. Told me he'd shoot the door he was behind if I didn't." Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair. "He told me if I killed him, I wouldn't be able to save Ian. He said I'd never be able to rescue him because he was chained up."

The anger inside me boiled over, and I couldn't help but speak out. "Ian wasn't chained. He was just sittin' there, cryin'."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she crumpled forward, hiding her face in her hands. My heart shattered. "So I could've fought back? I could've killed him? I could've... stopped him?"

I moved quickly, reaching out to touch her hand. "No, Ella. You didn't know. You didn't know. You didn't have a choice. You were in survival mode. Don't you dare blame yourself for any of that."

She lifted her tear-streaked face, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... don't you think I'm dirty? After everything?"

"No." My voice was fierce, but gentle, as I squeezed her hand tighter. "I'll never think that. Never. I love you, Ella. No matter what happened, no matter what he made you do, it wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for it. And you don't deserve to carry that weight. Not with me. Not ever."

She nodded slowly, sniffling, and I felt the weight of the past few weeks, the distance between us, start to slip away, just a little. But there was more to say. More we needed to share.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I pushed you away. I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, too," I replied, my voice low. "When you asked for space, I thought you were done with me. I thought... I thought you didn't want me anymore."

Her eyes softened, and she moved then, climbing onto my lap, her body pressing into mine, forcing me to look at her. Her hands cupped my face, and I could see the love in her eyes, the desperation for us to make it through this.

"I will always want you," she said, her voice like a promise. "You're the only man for me, Daryl Dixon." She leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently to mine. "I love you."

"I love you, too." The words escaped me, raw and real. Without thinking, I pulled her to me, my arms wrapping around her as I held her close. The world outside us faded away. It was just me and her, trying to find our way back to each other. I breathed her in, feeling the familiar warmth of her skin against mine, the steady beat of her heart in time with my own.

We were healing, one moment at a time.

When Ella pulled back slightly, she kept her hands resting on my shoulders, her eyes searching mine. I could feel the weight of everything we hadn't said yet, but it was there, between us, in the space where words had failed us for so long.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?" I whispered, my voice thick with the emotions I had kept buried for too long.

She bit her bottom lip, her gaze flickering between my eyes and my lips. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the vulnerability in the air, the tension that had been building up between us. I could only hope she'd say the words I needed to hear, the ones I had been aching to hear from her.

"Kiss me," she whispered, barely louder than a breath, but it hit me like a wave.

I didn't hesitate for a second. My hand reached up, cupping her face gently, as I pulled her closer. Our lips met in a soft, tender kiss, tentative at first, like we were both testing the waters after all this time apart. But then the hesitation melted away.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more real, like we were both desperate for this reconnection. I couldn't stop myself from pulling her closer, my hands finding their way to her waist, gently but firmly. She responded immediately, her hands threading into my hair, holding me close as if she never wanted to let go. Her lips were soft, warm, and familiar against mine, the taste of her sending a jolt of relief through me, as if I had been starving for this.

It felt like everything was coming back together in that one moment. The distance between us, the walls we had both built, all seemed to disappear as our bodies instinctively found their way back to one another. My chest tightened with emotion, and I could feel her heartbeat racing against mine. I ran my hands gently up and down her back, memorizing the feel of her against me, the way her breath hitched as I kissed her more deeply.

Her hands slid from my hair to my neck, pulling me even closer, her lips never leaving mine. It was like the world outside had faded away, and it was just the two of us, working our way through the space we had created and reconnected in. I could feel the years of longing, the months of doubt, all unraveling between us with every kiss.

"Daryl..." she whispered against my lips, her voice breaking with emotion.

I pulled away slightly, just enough to rest my forehead against hers, my breath coming in short, shaky gasps. "I'm here," I said, my voice rough. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled softly, her fingers tracing the lines of my jaw, her thumb gently brushing over my lips as if she couldn't believe this moment was happening either. "I missed you," she murmured.

I kissed her again, slowly, letting the kiss speak for everything we hadn't said yet, everything that was still hanging in the air between us. But in that kiss, I could feel it—feel us coming back together, one kiss at a time.

As I pulled back slightly, I held her close, just breathing her in, savoring the moment, feeling her warmth against me. "I missed you too," I whispered. "So damn much."

We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, not needing to rush or say anything more. The love was there, raw and real, and it was enough to fill the silence. It felt like everything was beginning to fall back into place, one touch, one kiss, one word at a time.