Georgian Redneck

Chapter 41- Gossip Girl xoxo

I wake up to small movement on the hard, dull mattress. Slowly, I open my hazel eyes and spot a hazy figure sitting on the edge of the cot. It's most likely Daryl. I mean, it's a pretty big chance of about 73%...

Lazily, I wipe my sore eyes off any sleep and get a clear, magnificent view. A brown-haired beauty flexing his bare, scarred back. A crack here and there from his tonned back and the low moan are a pretty damn good thing to wake up to daily, if you ask me. Lucky me. It's a damn hot sight.

"Hey" he whispers hoarsely immediately plopping back down into the cot on his back next to me. Either because he doesn't want me to see the deep scars his dick of a father left behind, or because he has nothing else to do since we have virtually everything and don't really need his squirells for the time being. A bit of both, I guess. I can see that he wants to go and hunt though. It's a coping mechanism for him.

"Morning. What's on the agenda today?" I whisper back, sitting up horizontally as I speak. I try and not breathe too much because of my morning breath, but by now he's gotten used to the terrible smell.

The black watch on my wrist reads 06:23. So that's the reason we're whispering. Nobody from our broken little group is really 'awake' until about 7 or 8am. That is, of course, with the exception of Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Carol and me.

Yesterday was mortifying. My prediction of the Mexican leader with the gun not willing to co-operate turned out to be true. Of course, I wasn't too surprised. Well, long story short, there's only two more prisoners left. The two that seemed okay to me. Rick gave them Cell Block D to clear out and stay there for the time being. And to be honest, that's awfully generous of him.

Hershel, my father-like figure, survived the bite and blood loss. He's a survivor and I'm honest to God thankful for that. And I'm not even religious. It would be a terrible loss to the group. The man that allowed us to stay at his farm when he could have just sent us away to our death.

"Nothin' much. Just fixin' the fences." Daryl responds in a sexy, rough voice. Even if it's just a whisper, it's a hell of a turn on. If we woke up earlier... I slowly stand up and walk behind a not-so-white sheet we put up between cells so we get some privacy and put my Metallica shirt on the grey railing.

When we raided Wallmart, Maggie and Glenn managed to grab shit tons of clothes, which is absolutely amazing. They're all stored in one of the spare cells, but we all got to chose a spare outfit each.

I pull a plain white shirt off the railing and shove it onto my body. A size too big, but I really couldn't care less. Although white perhaps isn't the best choice... Next, I stretch on a black pair of jeans and my old combat boots. All set for... Nothing really. Maybe I could properly meet the prisoners today? Maybe I could speak to Glenn? Maybe.

I walk towards our cots and see that Daryl has already pulled his sleeveless plaid shirt on along with his beloved crossbow. Typical Daryl attire. Although he could change his shirt. It's all diry from sweat and walker blood and god knows what else.

"I'm gonna talk to the prisoners and get to know them." I whisper and press my lips against his lightly. They graze his chapped ones and then I pull away, smiling slightly. I think I just got the best idea I ever could get.

"C'mon. Let's wake these people up the proper way. Go grab two pans from the makeshift kitchen and I'll get the spanners you use from your backpack." I whisper excitedly, a devilish grin appearing on my lips. This will be a hell lot of fun. We'll probably get some glares and rude comments, but it's definitely worth it. Oh man. I don't think I've ever felt this energised.

He gives me a skeptical look. What? Can be just obey for once? I sigh a little and pull on my best 'flirty' look. Maybe this'll work. "Maybe we could put the condoms to good use later tonight. We're both on watch, aren't we?" I whisper and run my fingertips along his bicep slightly.