Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

t h i r t y

Whoop whoop, chapter thirty!

ya'll are in for it... winkwink

Comment & vote if you enjoyed!

- - -

Zeva ran around in the courtyard, but not from Lizzie and Mika anymore. Oh no, those two girls were long gone. Lizzie was the only one who had died, but she had taken Mika with her when she had left. It had been Carol who broke the news to the poor girl, and the expression on her face was heart-shattering. Everybody had lost somebody that day, but the biggest loss was loosing a little girl. 

However, Daryl wasn't worried about Mika... He was worried about Presley. It'd been four days since he had gotten back from Woodbury, and she hadn't said a word to him. Hell, she hadn't hardly even showed her face. Even Maggie didn't understand why the girl was acting so depressed. Nobody was about to ask her what was wrong, afraid of the wrath that she would unleash if somebody did find that courage.

The only person she really interacted with was Stefan.

As much as Daryl hated to admit it, he was happy that Stefan was here, because she had somebody to talk to. On the same note he hated Stefan, as he wanted to be the one to comfort her. He would never admit this jealousy, but it was hard to ignore the small flame that turned into a wild fire everytime he saw them together.

It wasn't until the morning of the fifth day that Presley showed her face in the cafeteria. At the sight of her Carol scooted over and patted the bench beside her, and the entire room watched as she came to the table with Zeva trotting at her heels. For once, her hair was left down, framing her face. She looked beautiful with her hair up, but Daryl noticed that she didn't look as intimidating when it was left down. She gave the people a meek smile, wrapping a tendril of hair around her finger and playing with it.

"Haven't seen you around much lately." Maggie teased, offering her a small smile. Presley shrugged, staring down at the table with a near-blank expression. Gods, she was beautiful. It was an effortless beauty, not like the models with the photoshop and parted lips and awkward poses. No, Presley simply was Presley.

"I've had a lot on my mind is all." She said simply, blue eyes lifting to meet Maggie's gaze. Maggie's expression said what everybody was feeling: disbelief.

"Soo..." Carol said, casually bumping her shoulder. "You and Stefan, eh?" Presley paused, looking at Carol before scrunching her nose and laughing. It was a radiant sound, even if it did seem a bit forced. It was a laugh, none the less. Hearing her laugh seemed to be a rarity recently. Daryl tensed at what Carol had said, pretending to become quite interested in his food, though he was listening quite intently.

"No, no of course not." She said finally, rolling her eyes. "He's not my type." Really? Because you treat him like he's damn perfect for you.

"You know, I'm curious..." Carl said, surprising the entire table with his sudden voice of question, "What is your type?"

Presley paused, looking at the young boy with a thoughtful gaze. "Somebody... Somebody who can match my fire, who isn't afraid to get their hands a bit dirty and can take care of themselves." She said slowly, selecting her words quite carefully. "I don't really have a selected type, but Stefan isn't it... And neither are you Carl." She teased, reaching across the table and pinching his cheek. She laughed when he swatted her hand away, cheeks burning with embarrasment. "Well, I guess, maybe if you were a bit older..." She said with humor, tapping her chin with her finger. That earned chuckles from the surrounding tables.

Glenn approached the table, placing a hand on Presley's shoulder in a casual, friendly manner. "Rick wants us to go on another run, running a bit short on food." He said. "He wants Presley and Maggie to go."