Smoke

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It was quiet, the only sounds coming from the crickets that chirped late in the night. Not even a breeze rustling through branches was heard, all was still.

Walking across the beginning to grow longer spring grass, you are able to smell the freshness that the season has brought. Although it's fairly warm there's still the lasting feel of spring in the air.

Walking around at night when you couldn't sleep wasn't something new, in fact it was a nightly occurrence.

You walked the fields and out by the barn, taking in the sights of the stars high in the night sky to calm your active mind.

Tonight though, you are surprised when you turn to walk around the barn and see a cloud of smoke enter the air. And disappear just as fast.

You could smell it, the tobacco he smoked. And you could tell who it was, without even having to see his face.

Continuing to walk his way, you find him sitting on some type of large block of wood. His elbows resting on his knees, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His denim jacket clings tightly to him, and even in the minimal light you can make out the trace of the angel wings on his vest. It's your favorite out of everything he wears.

It feels to you that it symbolizes something beyond what most think of when they see them. For you, it's a new sense of hope.

You aren't exactly sure why you feel that, just that you hope it never fades.

"Gonna stay in the shadows or come on out?" Daryl's low and deep accent startles you, realizing you had zoned out.

You begin walking again, getting closer to where he is now. "Can I sit?"

You ask with a single moment of courage, no matter how much you believe his demenor is an act... He's still fairly intimidating.

"Ain't no one gonna stop ya."

He's replies with it almost emotionless, continuing to take another drag from his burning cigarette.

Moving, you climb up to sit in the small space beside him on the wood. The closeness something that takes you a moment to get used to.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" You wonder out loud.

Daryl turns his head just slightly to look at you from the corner of his eye, letting out a breath of the tinted grey smoke.

"Don't need it."

You snort at his excuse, knowing for a fact that he's been on watch every night this week. And the toll you can see on his face from lack of sleep proves that he lies just as much.

"You're a crap liar you know that?"

This causes Daryl to turn his head fully now, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. Not used to this kind of blunt honesty, especially towards him.

"Better watch your mouth." He mutters shaking his head, turning his gaze elsewhere.

"Or what?" You push, a slight smirk playing at your lips.

"You're threats don't mean nothin to me Daryl," You inform him grasping his gaze once again. "You wouldn't do nothin to me."

"Oh yeah? How ye so sure?" Daryl snaps back, throwing his cigarette into the grass. Stomping it out with his boot.

"Because you ain't the kind of guy that would hurt a woman."

The answer for some reason intregues him.

"You don't know that." He mumbles, and something in his voice tells you he's thinking about someone he knows-- or once knew-- who would in fact do that.

"I've seen the way you are," You begin to say. "You ain't exactly nice to us, but you wouldn't lay a hand on us."

"Ye think you know me?" Daryl questions, taking a new cigarette out of his pocket. Lighting it swiftly, as if second nature.

"We ain't that different," You try to explain to him, watching him begin to listen more carefully now. "you and me."

"How so?" Exhaling a cloud of smoke, that quickly surrounds you in the pungent smell of tobacco. A smell you'd never been a fan of.

"We both have a past," You start and something in his eyes shows a hint of fear. As if he believes you figured out something about him he wanted to remain hidden. "and we both find ways of distracting ourselves from them."

"For you, it's your alone time out hunting. And those damn cigarettes you're always smoking." You tell him, watching some ash flick from the one he holds.

"Ain't a distraction," Daryl says back. "jus a bad habit."

You laugh weakly at his response. "Wish I could call the bottles I hide in my bags the same."

He looks at you know, studying your face more so now. Learning this small thing about you, seems to have more weight for him.

"Got yourself a drinking problem?" Daryl doesn't ask rudely or point it out in a humorous fact. You can hear the concern and genuine curiousity lacing his words.

You nod slowly, letting out a breath. "Had one since I was a teen."

The emotion in his eyes, changes from curiousity to that single look of being able to relate to someone you never thought you'd be able to.

"I told you," You say quieter now, unable to take your eyes off his. "we ain't that different from each other."

It was like some sort of black hole that was painted a beautiful Georgia blue. Sucking you in as you spoke your words softer and softer, impossible to look away.

So you both sit there, on the wood. Smoke circling the both of you, as you continue to quietly sit in each others company. Something you learned to enjoy to the nights you couldn't sleep, which had become a nightly occurrence. 

A/N: shorter one today, I also wanted to ask if any of you have requests or ideas you'd like to see me try and write? Let me know, and hope this one shot was okay! :)

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