Pulse

The sickening grayness of the sky, for the long stay in France, changed for the first time to a beautiful, warm sunset, spilling over the room with gentle rays. Autumn did not spare even the staunchest survivalists, so looking out the window one could find the inhabitants of this small town, wrapped tightly in coats. A thin stream of steam from a cup of coffee slowly rose upward, dissolving into the cool air of the street. Nearby lay a saucer of ginger cookies, which had been carefully offered by a nun with the name of... I think it was Louise, who had caught up with her at the very door to the room. On that high table was a lamp with a candle inside that cast an uneven light on the pages of the thick book in her lap. It was some unremarkable novel, hastily grabbed from a drawer while packing for France. Not by her, of course. At that moment, all she could think about was Daryl's voice saying he'd be here in a week, but an eighth day of sleeping by the radio hadn't resulted in anything worthwhile.   Perhaps sailing across the Atlantic Ocean was a foolish and rash decision, as Ezekiel had asserted to her all day. Perhaps it had been. But losing her only reason for existence in this cursed world was beyond her. Maybe lugging around a crossbow and a bike for a week and risking her life for nothing had been foolish, but still, coincidence had given her what she'd been looking for.   There was an interesting quote in the book, which made Carol grunted and bite the nail of her thumb, running her eyes from one line to the next, delving into the story of unreal, insignificant people who were probably written by the same dreamer, sitting at a desk with a mug of coffee and a candle in the holder. Maybe she was just bored, but in the back of her mind she knew that she was reading every word to hide the excitement and anxiety that settled deep in her chest and woke up at the same time as he disappeared on the horizon with a couple of tough, unfamiliar guys, smiling lumpily and whispering with just his lips that everything would be all right. Normally she always accompanied him on these trips, but last time, climbing up, running away from the nasty, mutated walkers, and later coming back down, her foot had slipped unluckily, causing Carol to suffer a badly sprained ankle and a near heart attack from Daryl, who'd had to move into the passenger seat because of the tremors in his hands. His downcast look from the side mirror was forever sealed in her memory and settled with a lump in her throat. All the way to their temporary home, there was a sickening, pressurized silence in the car that no one tried to break. They spoke only when a man knocked on the door late at night, guiltily checking on her well-being and helping to bandage her injured leg with an elastic bandage. Three days later, on another outing, she limped and proved that she could at least drive the car and wait for them there, but the look in his eyes, pleading and - revealing the old pulling wound left on the cliff in the cave an eternity ago - persuaded her to stay in the castle and skip from line to line, occasionally glancing at the road in search of a familiar face.   After sipping her coffee, which had long since cooled, and not touching the cookie next to it, Carol leaned her head back and closed her eyes, exhaling noisily. Silent footsteps were heard in the distance and the wooden door opened slightly and almost silently, revealing the presence of someone. The intruder strode onto the balcony, and the smell of leather, smoke, and gasoline along with a quiet grunting made the woman's lungs collapse and the corners of her lips stretch into a hint of a smile. She opened her eyes as the couch to her left sagged and a warm gaze began to burn into her face.   "What?" she turned her head with a goofy smile, watching his face and memorizing the new scratches and marks that weren't there even this morning. Daryl nodded his head, pretending there wasn't an obvious question in his eyes that was obvious... Perhaps only to her?   The woman laughed softly as she watched his lips curl into an open-mouthed, red-handed smile and wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes with her fingers. Daryl sighed fake sadness, looking at the woman with a puppy dog look on his face.   "Okay, you caught me, I've been waiting for you," rolling her eyes, Carol looked into his eyes fondly.   "I haven't said a word yet and you've told me everything you've been thinking."   "And you don't have to say anything, I understand you already" she shoved his shoulder lightly with her hand with a sly look and hummed softly.     Carol put her feet up on the - faded from standing in the sun, and the long years that had passed, changing hands - couch, and wrapped both arms around her knees, gazing into the now fading, setting sun that cast yellow-orange rays across the clouds, making it feel like a fairy tale.   "How's your leg?" the man asked quietly, trying to catch her wandering gaze.   "Still can walk" Carol smiled crumply, rubbing the sore area and involuntarily picturing in her mind that droopy, blank stare through the car mirror. She raggedly sighed and lowered her eyes "You're taking a long time today."   The woman tried to put a light and distracted tone to her voice, but from Daryl's soothing gaze she could say that sad notes seeped through her words.   "Waited for a mob of walkers to pass the road, couldn't risk it" he reached for her shaking arm on the couch, just as there was a knock on the door. Carol intended to get up, but was stopped by a warm hand "I'll get it"   ***   As he stepped into the castle, his eyes immediately began to survey the unfamiliar people in a futile attempt to find a familiar face. The day had been hard enough both mentally and physically, but she didn't need to know about it so as not to further trouble her already troubled soul. Daryl had only had time to wash his soiled hands and stinging face before the friendly nun Louise told him that Carol had been sitting in her room all day and embarrassingly offered to bring dinner to the two of them in her bedroom. The man snorted and chewed his lip, but agreed, feeling his cheeks blush.   Carol heard him open the door and a quiet female voice said something unintelligible to her ears, Daryl thanked her and after a few seconds the warm aroma of stewed vegetables and fresh baked goods wafted to her nose. She opened her eyes in surprise with a silly smile on face as the man walked with the tray to the balcony and set it on the low table in front of the couch.   "Wow, is this a romantic dinner?"   Daryl snorted, feeling his ears warm at the mocking remark that gave hope deep in his heart. He scooted a little closer, reaching a hand towards the fork resting on the tray, and accidentally bumped into the - scarily cold - palm of the woman's hand, only now noticing the red nose and thin shirt she was wearing. Intercepting Carol's hand, he looked into her eyes in surprise and exhaled raggedly.   "Are you trying to get sick? You're literally ice cold" the man squeezed her trembling hand tighter and started to rise from the couch, dragging her with him "Let's go inside"   "No, no" Carol said hastily, pulling her hand away. The man looked into frightened face with a perplexed look, squatting down. He placed his palm on her shaking knee, trying to soothe the tremors with affectionate, warm movements. Her pulse quickened with the memory of the panic attack from the previous afternoon, when she'd laid down for a short nap and woken up an hour later with a scream on her lips from a sickening, clutching dream. When the room felt like the stuffy, moldy basement her late husband had thrown her into years ago, her lungs squeezed like vise grips and ached like a mile-long run. She felt better only when she crawled with her last strength to the balcony door and collapsed on the sofa, curling into a ball and sobbing quietly.   "What happened?" he squeezed her knee lightly, catching the attention of her pensive eyes.   "Nothing, just..." Carol hastily nodded her head, swallowing loudly and shifting her gaze to the palm warming her knee "It's... tight there."   "Okay," the man replied in a husky, quiet voice, rising from the concrete floor and walking into the depths of the bedroom, only to feel a moment later a heavy and warm woolen blanket descending over her shoulders, wrapping itself tighter around her neck, his - caring and rough from constant hard work - hands accidentally grazing the sensitive skin on her collarbone, causing the woman to let out a ragged sigh.   Daryl crouched down next to her, holding out his fork and stroking her shoulder in a soothing gesture. She sighed and smiled, nibbling off a piece of croissant and placing it in her mouth, savoring the warm, crisp pastry.   "How's Laurent doing? Haven't seen him since this morning" Carol smiled, raising an eyebrow and turning to the man.   "They went somewhere with Isabelle, I didn't ask" he replied without emotion, avoiding her gaze and quickly shoveling food into his mouth in his usual manner.   "Did something happen? Did you two have a fight?" she frowned, reaching out to touch his shoulder but chastising herself at the last moment for the impulse.   "No, it's fine," the tone of his voice was reminiscent of the endless days she'd visited the camps in the woods, each time making excuses to her - now - ex-husband for going there just to hand over some needed item, but really just to see if he was okay and just to see his own smile, and in return getting indifferent answers and leads about where the next path through the forest she'd explored down to the twigs would take her.   "Daryl, please don't lie to me" she touched the back of his palm gently, forcing the man to sigh and lean back against the back of the couch.   "She... I can't be with her anymore, I don't even know if I should tell you this. She gets on my nerves every time I leave the room, always disgruntled and angry about something" he paused, biting his lip and catching his heavy breath.   "That's not the main reason, is it?" Carol squeezed his palm gently, pushing the corners of her lips apart in a warm smile and trying to catch his gaze.   He turned his head toward her, gazing into her face with a pitiful, trapped look.   "She insulted you."   Carol widened her eyes in bewilderment, then blinked a couple times and laughed softly. The woman took his hand in two palms, squeezing the fingers and stroking the cold knuckles.   "Come here, you're cold too" she spread the blanket open, beckoning him to climb into the warmth of the woolen fabric warmed by her own body.   Daryl scooted closer, gently pulling the blanket over himself and slipping her arm over her trustingly set, fragile shoulder. She leaned her shoulder against his chest, exhaling quietly and covering her eyes from the needed closeness. Wrapping her palm around his other hand, the woman began massaging the base of his palm in a circular motion unobtrusively.   "Everyone can't like me Daryl, it's okay, don't be mad at her for that" she whispered in a husky low voice, tucking her legs under her and getting comfortable on the couch with the reason for her peace of mind in her arms.   "I don't know why she's acting like this, it used to be different" he muttered in an almost growling voice, unhappy at the excuse for such nasty behavior from the nun.   "Because she likes you, because she's in love with you, Daryl" Carol laughed sweetly, snuggling closer to his shoulder.   "Why should I care?" he frowned perplexed, digesting the words that someone could be in love with him overriding all the cries of his father and brother about his helplessness and uselessness. Watching the movement of her small hand, he intertwined their fingers together, sharing his warmth and looking at their harmonious combination "Or does she think I'm going to run over after saying that and declare my love to her, which I've never done in my life?"   He mumbled to himself, covering his eyes and inhaling the stupefying scent, leaning his cheek against the top of her head and forgetting everything for a second before he heard her thin voice.   "Really?" he might have thought he heard her, but the frozen hand and body tensing under his palm said otherwise. Daryl felt a traitorous, shameful blush rise up his neck, traveling to his cheeks and ears as he realized the meaning of what was being said.   He watched as she slightly, slowly pulled away to look into confused blue eyes. The man felt a soft palm release and creep higher before two fingers circled her wrist as if searching for something. A wistfulness played in her eyes, changing to realization and a smile on tantalizing lips.   "What are you doing?" the man said in a strangled voice, watching Carol move closer to his neck, afraid to move.   "Your pulse quickens with intimacy with someone you’re attracted to" whispered the woman in a calm voice, burning his ear lobe with her breath. She gently took his palm, bringing it up and leaning it against her frantically pounding ribcage.   Daryl sighed in amazement, covering his eyes and turning his head to run the tip of his nose over her cheekbone in a gentle touch. He pulled back, gazing into her glistening eyes, and ran a warm palm over her cold cheek, watching as Carol trustingly nestled into the warmth, covering her eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers, scorching her chapped lips with his hot breath.   "Please tell me I got it right," the man said in an almost pleading whisper.   Carol laughed softly, sniffing her nose and answering in a voice wet with tears.   "You got it right, honey."   Those were the last words spoken in the silence of the October evening before their lips met in an eager, desperate dance, with each movement climbing deeper under her skin and soaking into her forever, leaving their mark. She felt the tears mingling on her cheeks as he did, but that was the last thing to worry about.   They pulled away from each other only after a couple of minutes, when the lack of air in their lungs began to burn, and then they moved smilingly into the warm bedroom, closing the door to the balcony and pulling back the curtains.   The cookies were still intact, the candle was almost burned out, and there were two mugs of cold coffee from that day.