Beth thinks she’s known for a while that Daryl loves her, but it’s never been about the thing it always is in all those stories about passion and falling in love that she used to read. He loves her, but not in the way she thought was essential to a romance. It’s not about that.
Every time a person falls in love a red tally mark appears on their wrist, the mark turns black if their love is requited and becomes a scar when the one they love dies.
Daryl Dixon had decided that Beth was going to be the death of him. Plain and simple. It wasn’t going to be a walker bite that brought him down, or cannibalistic crazies. No. It was going to be from heart failure due from a little blonde ponytail.
why would you believe in fairytales when your life was one?
After they run from the fire and the moonshine shack, things are different. Beth isn’t sure what she wants to do. But then the sky opens up over them and she knows, and she’s going to make damn sure Daryl knows too.
“Anything’ll do?” he suggests. It isn’t bitterness. It’s empathy.
Life is good in the funeral home, friendship has become something much more, and Beth has gone a long way toward shaking Daryl of his initial shyness. But when he comes home from hunting to her own kind of ambush, she gets a lot more than she was expecting. Though maybe also exactly what she wanted.
“I got demons all around me,I hear them whisper in the night,trying to break me down but they ain’t got a prayer with this angel by my side.” Beth/Daryl on the run after the prison.
Daryl only works with his hands when there is something he can’t shake.
“She’s like a needle to a junky, she’s like whiskey to a drunk, she’s like poker to a gambler, she’s like a bullet in a gun, She’s in his blood, he can’t explain the rush When he gets with her, Might be the death of him, but he’s addicted, man, He can’t quit her.”
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