Curate, connect, and discover
Short drabble from this :p
You don't notice him for quite a while. The occassional rustle of overgrown grass from the wind and a distant crackle of water falling unto the rocky shore below it had faded into a calming soundtrack as you thought. An embarrassing amount of time, really, until Daryl lightly nudged your shoulder, worried how you weren't blinking for a concerning amount of time.
You blinked a few times before looking at him. You watched how he faltered a moment, an awkward beat, before he spoke.
"You okay?" His voice was still that rough southern you were used to, but still held that edge of softness that spoke better than anything words could.
You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes flickering back to the hazy moonlight. Breathing felt heavier in your chest, as if a boulder was tight against your chest. Not as if you were about to cry. More so... a long fought-off tired feeling. It was an uphill battle.
"I'd be lying if I say 'yes'," You finally admit, a failing attempt at a smile catching your lips a moment.
Hazy mornings grew to hazy nights, unable to remember what you did in-between the passing of time. You did something, you're sure. At least, you think are you. You can recall... hm. Not much. A few passing words. Blood of the walkers, staining your hands before being washed away in the river you and Daryl always passed by on your runs. The rustic, mucky colour that spelt of both blood and dirt swirled in the coursing water for seconds before dissipating into the quick pace of the stream.
You let out a tight breath, willing away emotions that so rudely clinged onto you like mosquitos in the summer. It felt worse, how it wasn't a need to cry or be angry, either. It tightened your lungs and made breathing feel like a labour, and sleep sounded of the finest wine- a perfect ailment, though unobtainable in your situation.
Daryl's knee tapped yours, words stuck in both your throats, but not needing to be said. He was there, and he saw you. The same way the sun rises unto flowers neglected each morning, the same way the moon glows in the comfort of night. Simple, but relevant.
And that was really all you needed.
Daryl with a partner who gets depressive episodes but not like crying all the time or laying around they just go silent. And like. Everyone's concerned because what do you mean you went quiet? No no no, the excitable guy over there? You've got the wrong person.
Still going on runs and pulling their weight where they stay, but just. Silent. Lingering a bit too much.
And Daryl doesn't know really what to do with it. He can barely healthily deal with his own emotions, comforting someone else is a big bite to chew. But he still tries. Maybe just staying with them. Nudging them with a water canister or some spare food to make sure they're eating and drinking, even if they're too zoned out to realize they're doing it. Staying by them, a mutual dampened air that's bittersweet and tainted with unspoken complications. But it's better, not being alone. It helps.