𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒.
chapter fifty-six; Want
" And I needed to remember what it felt like. "

  VEX AND DARYL were positioned on the East side of the barn. There was no movement around them, save for the walkers still alive despite being skewered and crushed by fallen trees. Their weapons were readied but not raised, eyes scanning the landscape around them carefully.

  "You think it's real?"

  "I think we'll find out one way or another."

  Vex glanced at Daryl, letting her rifle fall at her side as she approached him.

  "I don't know," Daryl admitted, "How 'bout you?"

  "I think it has to be," She said quietly, earning Daryl's attention, "We can't live like this."

  Daryl met her eyes, a silent understanding between the two of them. They could survive, of course, they could survive— but this was not life.

"And I think if it is real," Vex continued quietly, "It'll change a lot."

  "You think it'll change us?"

  He asked the question before he could swallow it.

  "In some ways," She answered after a moment, "I think we'll finally be able to want things again. We'll be able to think about something other than food and water and shelter. . ."

  The moment was so fragile, Daryl was worried he would ruin it with words.

  "I haven't. . . stopped wanting things. I doubt anyone has," Vex breathed out, "But having them right now, when we're like this, it's not. . . fair."

  "What do you want?"

  She tilted her head just slightly as if contemplating her answer.

  But Vex Williams knew exactly what she wanted. She'd wanted it for so long that she had no idea where it started or where it would end.

  They stared at each other in deafening silence, the space between them filled everything they had never said.

  Daryl didn't believe he deserved what Vex had already given— and he hated himself for wanting more.

  Vex has never seen love turn out right, and the last thing she wanted was to lose Daryl Dixion just because of some stupid emotions.

  But in that moment, right before their lives would change, they set down everything else other than each other. Because want was something much stronger than fear of self-loathing.

  "It's not fair."

  "Nothin' is."

  She stared up at him for a moment, her eyes flicking between his as if looking for any doubt before she spoke. Any flicker of hesitation or questioning.

  But she found none. So she started.

  "I want a life with my family," Vex finally whispered, "I want Dean to paint again. I want Zeppelin to read comics with Carl and have a full belly when she goes to bed every night. I want to see you happy— so happy nothing is weighing you down."

  Vex let out a shaky breath as she took a step closer to him.

  "I just want to be close to you. I don't know— it's so. . . I should be thinking about surviving, and eating, and finding a safe place to sleep, but ever since we got split up at the prison, I just. . . I feel like I can't breathe when I don't know where you are. And after. . . I just thought you were gone again."

  Daryl's face fell into worry, lifting a hand to rest it on Vex's bicep. She dipped her head in something similar to shame, but the man tapped her chin up with a finger, forcing her eyes to meet his.

  "I ain't leaving you again, Vex."

  She gave him a forced smile, one that made his stomach churn.

  "I'm not. No matter what happens, what either of us say or do— I ain't leaving you. I already made that mistake once."

  "Promise?"

  Vex looked so vulnerable. Daryl hated that word, especially for her, but he couldn't think of another. She looked at him like he held her fate in his hands like he was the beginning and end of everything. Like him making that promise was all she was holding onto.

  "Promise."

  Vex lifted her hand, resting it atop Daryl's and squeezing it once.

  "Can I want something right now?" She said, "Even though it's selfish and stupid and it's not fair for me to do this when everything might go to shit with this place?"

  And Daryl just nodded. Because Vex Williams could want anything and he would be okay with it. Because he had held onto something about the first person who had ever come looking for him when he was lost in the woods. Because even before he wanted to, he had clung to the idea of someone caring about him just to care about him. Even before he let people in, Vex fucking Williams had gotten further in than his own family.

  Because Daryl Dixon had cared about Vex Williams in a way he had never known he was capable of (he knew his hands were made of violence, but he had no idea how gentle they could be before her), everything she did only made him care more.

  So Vex Williams moved a little closer, her eyes never leaving his. She saw his nerves and his shock and every emotion that blazed in his eyes, and all she did was rest one hand on his jaw. She let her finger trace the shape, the bone that formed the face she had come to search for because she had wanted to for so long.

  And then she snaked her hand to the back of his neck, her fingers dancing between the long hairs because she had always been wanting to touch him.

  And then she pulled him down as she pressed herself onto her toes, and she did the thing she had wanted so long.

  Vex had wondered what it would feel like. If he tasted like the cigarettes they shared, if he would kiss her tenderly if his hands would roam, or if he'd be nervous.

  The real thing was impossible to describe.

  It started gentle, a fuzzy feeling, something like TV static, as her lips touched his— it felt like coming home. Like being warm after a cold winter or getting into bed after a long day.

  But then it felt like being lit on fire.

  As if Daryl took a moment to realize all the want he had, too. And once he did, it was all over.

  He pressed into her harder, a hand gripping her hips as she bent into the kiss, bent into him— the other one was now lost in her hair, pulling her impossibly closer as if he couldn't kiss her hard enough.

  It felt like the second shot of whiskey, like being melted and forged, like Vex was not watching fireworks, but she was the firework, blazing up into the night sky.

  They didn't need to breathe, they could do this later, right now they needed each other.

  Vex only broke apart once hearing voices— her lips felt cold the second they left his. Her hands remained in their spots, one in the divot of his bicep the other on the back of his neck, as she peered over his shoulder for the culprits.

  "They're back," She breathed, finally meeting his eyes again.

  And her breath was stolen again. Because Daryl was still looking at her. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn't decipher— something fragile and silly and good.

  "Alright," He said, not yet moving.

  "We should see what they found."

  "Okay."

  Vex cracked a small smile at his quiet agreements, without a movement to back them up.

  "They might've found the car."

  "Might have."

  "Are you gonna agree with everything I say?"

  "For now, maybe."

  Vex laughed and Daryl smiled because how could he not?

  "Come on," She said, forcing herself to part with the man.

  Vex started toward the barn but halted for a moment. She spun around, facing the man once more, and pressed another rushed kiss to his lips.

  "What was that one for?"

  "I just don't know when I'll get to do it again," She admitted, "And I needed to remember what it felt like."

  And Daryl breathed out a smile and followed Vex back into the barn to welcome the rest of their group and listen to what they had found.

  Because he knew it wouldn't be easy. She knew it too. It wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't make sense because they were two people who had never been taught how to love someone else. And they were fighting for their lives every day in a world that would never make sense, and taking on the reality of their emotions would only complicate everything.

  But Vex glanced at Daryl as Glenn spoke to the group, and Daryl caught her staring, the corner of his lip tugging up when she looked away quickly.

  Whatever was between them, neither had navigated before. There was no map to follow or rules to know.

  But it was there. It was silly and fragile and there.