#who:daryl

[denisexcloyd]

@brokenarcher

She went outside the clinic and sat on the porch steps in silence for a few moments. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though, there was just no need to say anything. She raised her sight to the void and thought about the first time she saw Daryl crossing the gates of Alexandria in front of them: that big intimidating man holding a dead possum. Then, her mind unavoidably jumped to Dennis. Had people felt like that when they first met her brother too? Denise hesitated, choosing her next words cautiously. “Do you miss them sometimes? The old days?” She looked at the man and her face twisted into a small smile, somewhat forced.

[denisexcloyd]

@redneckxdixon (about my character taking shots with yours)

After everything that happened, she had almost forgotten about the couple little bottles of booze that Rosita and Daryl found during their run to the apothecary, but there they were now, lined up in her kitchen counter. And there she was, pouring the content of one of them in two glasses that were probably too big to be considered shot glasses. “I’m serving it, but I’m not drinking”, Denise said in a remarking tone. She appreciated the company, especially at nights. It made her feel protected and helped her stop being worried about Tara, at least for a few hours. She smiled at the man as she offered him one of the glasses. She would gladly accompany him if he wanted to drink, but she was never a fan of alcohol and getting wasted having an open wound and three different kinds of painkillers in her system didn’t seem like the smartest of ideas.