on the path of self destruction

              ’ they let me out for good behavior. ‘

  “I ain’t one that believes in any of that    religious nonsense. Fuck off, Dixon.”

             'Fuck, Merle, didn't know ya was outta jail.'

                      She backs up more and more as he walks closer                    to her until her back collided with a wall. Her gaze drops down at him                    as his nose touched her collarbone, her own nose settling next to                    his head. They were so close, bodies touching, only a paper could fit                    between them, and she can’t even tell herself she didn’t like it. He was                    right, she does want him. She already misses the way his lips touched                    hers, the way she felt when they touched, and maybe she regrets pulling                    away. She wants him, but she doesn’t want to want him. Beth doesn’t                    want to be one of those girls he sleeps with and ditches the next day,                    she doesn’t want him to leave her if she gives in to him. She wants more.                    His hot breath against her exposed skin makes her gulp, sucking on                    her bottom lip for a moment as she closed her eyes. Just give in Bethy.                    Give in. A voice that only she could hear says, while another voice                    just tells her to push him away, slap him, leave. It’s like she has the                    devil and an angel on each side of her shoulder. Her small hands                    place on his chest once again, resting them there as she shook her                    head a bit.

                                       ❛ Ah —- Ah don’t…. know what ah’ want..❜

   Rick can feel his heart rate pick up in his chest at their close proximity,   && his mind  is   screaming   at   him   to   back  away  before  he  does   something stupid. “Shut it, Dixon.” He snaps before taking a  step  away   from the other man. Blinking a few times, he just shakes his head,  and   points at the door.  

                “Get out before I lock ya’ up.”

"There ain’t none of that in my  eyes, ya’ damn idiot.”

"Don’t ya’ know how ta’ take a hint, Dixon?” He grunts.

                    Beth smiles small at his words before turning on her                     heels and proceeding to walk to the kitchen. She hums a quiet tune to                     herself as she fills the coffee carafe with water and putting the coffee mix                     inside the filter. Turning the coffee maker on, Beth leans her side against                     the counter, tapping her finger against it in impatience. Every second or                     so, she glances towards the man in only his boxers, sitting on her couch.                     She stares at him for what seemed like a minute, not even just looking at                     his body — which was a good view, but more looking at his face. Which                     was a better view.

                          When she hears a ding from the coffee maker, she realizes she was                      staring a bit longer than she should have. She takes out two cups, deciding                     to make enough for two since she could use an energy boost, and she                     slowly pours the coffee in the cups evenly. Exhaling a small breath, she                    walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, carefully handing him                    his cup before sitting down on the couch a few feet away from him.

                                       ❝ i uh, i don’t think ah’ have anythin’                                                 for yah’ to wear that would fit yah’ Do you                                                                 want uh — a blanket or somethin?. ❞

"A bike?”

At first, the girl was sadly picturing a racing bike, but when it clicked that he was the one with the motorcycle outside, her face lit like a Christmas tree. “Shut the hell up, you got a motorcycle? Look at you, you’re good for somethin’. I ain’t never been one of those— well, that’s a lie, I was on one once, but that didn’t really count.”

        Luckily for her, she’d … changed occupation … since the last time they’d         seen one another. See, this bar was hers and she could kick him out so         long as he was causing a disturbance. Unfortunately the only disturbance         he was causing was the stir of anger that was currently thrust against her         own chest.

                “I’m baby how, darlin’? How sweet, but maybe you                         should bite your tongue before I offer it up to the                                       first homosexual that walks in.”

                      He kisses her and she feels like her head is spinning.                    Her heart is racing rapidly, she could hardly breath, she is completely                    paralyzed standing down below him. There’s a twist in her stomach,                    the butterflies Beth has kept hidden away finally breaking loose and                    fluttering around her stomach. She digs her fingers into his shirt,                    pulling him close as she kisses him back. It feels amazing to finally                    give in, to let loose and feel his lips against hers. But she hates it.                    Minutes pass by of them just kissing, tugging each other closer                    and closer until there was no space between them left. Her daddy                     is yelling at her in her head, telling her stop, to remind her she                    was kissing an asshole, trying to snap her out of it. And soon                     enough she did, when she needed to breath. Her nails unclench                    from his shirt, pushing him away and taking a step backwards.

                                       ❝  You — You’re — You —                                                                           You’re disgustin !! ❞

                  ’ oh, i don’t —— know. ‘

     perhaps he is, perhaps not. ira hasn’t decided yet. still, he      isn’t exactly forcing the other away, fingers almost gripping      onto the scapes of his upperarms as he’ll let his head just tip      back slightly to grant him more room. the important part of      ira’s body language is that he is pressed flush against daryl,      but the most of the latter is that he is not making any real      moves toward him, either; simply happy to be on the receiving      end of it; even despite a hand rising to tangle in his hair tightly.

       ’ how much have you had to drink? ’ he asks, throatily.

            ❝ why are you still talkin’?? ❞

                                  shane’s  tone  is  venomous  ;  daryl                                   utterly  INFURIATED  him  at  times.                                   correction:       at       all        times.