Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 34 - Warmer

Winter was thankfully almost over, and the snow was finally starting to melt away from the bleak background. It was going to be so much easier to go on runs when the cold wasn't affecting everyone.

I sat alone on the bed of the blue truck, fiddling mindlessly with a muesli bar wrapper with my numb fingers. It was only snowing lightly, instead of the crazed snowfall that plagued us the majority of this horrid season.

I was used to the issues associated with not being able to feel my fingers, with trying to continue everyday activities when my hands were so shaky they were practically useless. In fact, I was trying to shred the wrapper into the smallest strips I could, just to see if I'd actually manage it in the state I was in.

I'd been feeling a bit under the weather lately, my recurring cold coming back to bite me in the ass for the fiftieth time. Not to mention the fact that I felt like a complete loser even without the blotchy red nose.

Every time I looked at Daryl, I wanted to walk over and tell him I didn't really mean what I'd said those few months ago... Or rather what I'd insinuated. Because since then, he wouldn't even look at me. And to me, that was worse. Of course I had Glenn and T-Dog, but that awful feeling of loneliness I felt every time I'd look at him kept returning.

I could safely say I'd even appreciate one of his insults.

There was a part of my subconscious that was constantly telling me to get over this stupid little feeling I continued to get in the pit of my stomach, and that I was merely wasting my time.

What was I even doing exactly?

Of course Daryl wouldn't be interested in me that way. We were completely wrong for each other, from two totally different worlds. I was sure he already thought of me as an annoying person who just wouldn't go away.

I was just embarrassing myself more and more every day.

As I tore the last small strip in half lengthways, I threw the pile of shredded wrapper onto the metallic surface below my crossed legs.

I pulled my arms back into my coat, something I usually did when my hands were stinging from the cold. I sat there, surrounded by my warm, slightly smelly, coat.

There was a sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat from in front of me.

I quickly sniffed in any possible leakage from my running nose, before looking up.

Of course, of course, Daryl would be there, just when I'd been thinking about him. But these days, when was I not thinking about him? I was almost always cursing myself every time we'd make awkward eye contact, or every time I'd say something and he'd frown and look away.

He was wearing that same heavy grey coat, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked so uncomfortable with his reddened cheeks, and the same red blotchy nose that almost everybody had acquired.

It seemed that he didn't know what exactly he was going to say to me, as I looked up at him expectantly.

"What's up?" I tried to be casual, but my voice was all weird because of my cold.

"Found a box of... A box of oatmeal in the house." His back was slightly slouched, looking just as run-down as he'd been throughout the weather.

"Oh, okay..." I nodded, looking back to Carl, who was sitting silently in the front seat of the truck. The window was slightly open, and when he heard this, Carl popped the door open and scurried off into the house beside the vehicle.

Daryl didn't say anything else, and was prepared to walk back inside. I could tell he didn't want to be the one to come and get me, which only made my heart drop even further.