#Rick Grimes walkinf

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Too Sweet // R. Grimes (TWD) Part 3

Third part of: Too Sweet

Hi everyone! I hope you all are enjoying this little series. I have gotten a little more familiar with the layout, so I feel like I got the hang of it now lol. Part 4 will be posted soon, I am still finishing it up! Thank you all so much for the support.

Warning: age gap, hints of abuse, alcohol use

Summary: After arriving in Alexandria, Rick is still on high alert, uncertainty about the people who live within the walls of his new, unfamiliar home. But one person has caught his attention.

•••

Deanna’s party was a cacophony of voices and clinking glasses, a press of bodies so tight that the air itself seemed thick, heavy with a mixture of sweat, alcohol, and the faint scent of freshly cut flowers that had been placed in vases throughout the house. The walls, once pristine, were now decorated with the warmth of mingling people—locals and outsiders alike, all attempting to recreate a sense of normalcy in a world that had long forgotten it.

Rick had brought Carl and Judith with him, hoping that amidst the chaos, there could be something close to normal for them. They deserved a chance to feel safe, to feel the illusion of peace, if only for a moment. Carl, ever the vigilant protector, stuck close to his father, while Judith, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension, gurgled with a soft laugh, her innocent smile lighting up the room in ways no one else could.

Rick’s eyes swept over the crowd, taking in the faces, trying to gauge their intentions, to measure them against the harshness of the world he knew. His group—his people—were scattered throughout the room, attempting to blend in, to mingle with the Alexandrians, desperate to get a feel for them, to discern who could be trusted and who might just get them killed.

But Rick’s attention kept drifting. His chest felt tight, constricted by a pressure that was not physical but internal. Carol had disappeared, slipping away from the social hum of the party with practiced ease, her movements a silent warning to Rick. She was headed to the infirmary, and as much as he trusted her, as much as he knew the importance of securing their position, a flicker of unease began to gnaw at him. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of danger, any prying eyes that might have noticed her absence.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm the erratic thud of his heart. He had to focus. He couldn’t afford to lose track of his surroundings. And yet, despite the overwhelming need to remain vigilant, his mind betrayed him. It pulled him toward something else.

Her.

Rick cursed himself inwardly. Pathetic. That’s what he was. His gaze moved through the crowd with a desperation that he could not contain, his eyes scanning every face, every body, searching, hoping—hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

She wasn’t here.

His heart sank as the realization hit him like a cold gust of wind. She wasn’t in the crowd, didn’t appear in any corner or by any window. The part of him that had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame was left unfulfilled, that small hope now slipping away like water through his fingers.

But there was someone else.

Rick’s eyes narrowed. Josh. The obnoxious, overconfident man who had somehow wormed his way into their lives. The sight of him standing in the corner, nursing a bottle of beer with a look of utter detachment, made Rick’s skin crawl. The contrast was glaring. Josh was a man who always had to be the center of attention, the life of every room he entered, yet here he was, abandoned in the sea of guests, his presence somehow more pronounced in his isolation.

The thought struck Rick like a hard jab to the gut. Josh doesn’t like those kinds of things. Daisy’s voice echoed in his mind, as clear as if she were standing right next to him. And yet, here he was, standing by himself, pretending to enjoy the party in a way that seemed too deliberate, too calculated.

Something felt wrong.

Rick’s eyes lingered on Josh, watching him as he sipped his beer, his laughter forced, his words louder than they needed to be. There was something about the way he moved—something offbeat, almost like he was trying to draw attention, yet at the same time trying to seem indifferent to the whole affair. He looked like a man trying to prove something, to convince the world—and maybe himself—that he was fine, that he fit in. But Rick wasn’t fooled.

Rick’s fingers tightened around the glass he was holding. The room seemed to constrict around him, the noise, the laughter, the chatter becoming a background hum that only seemed to make the pressure in his chest worse.

Get a grip, Rick told himself, his mind shouting to regain control. She’s none of your business. The words echoed in his head like a mantra, a reminder to steer his thoughts away from the distraction that Daisy had become. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, to steady his pulse, there was an undeniable weight to the air between him and her, a tether he couldn’t cut.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to clear it. His fingers tightening around his glass—Jessie’s words falling short in his ear.

As the evening stretched into the night, the crowd slowly began to thin out. Families made their way home, ready to crawl into their beds and sleep, as the party began to lose its energy. The soft chatter and clinking glasses died down to murmurs, and the air seemed to cool with the passing of time.

Rick clutched Judith’s small, sleeping form in his arms as he and Carl made their way out of the house, heading home. The street was quieter now, the soft echo of their boots the only sound accompanying them.

Rick couldn’t help it. His eyes drifted toward her house.

It was dark. No light flickered from the windows, indicating that she, too, had gone to sleep for the night. It felt odd, somehow. Rick wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he had been thinking about her all night, unable to shake the strange feeling she gave him.

The peaceful silence of the neighborhood was interrupted by the sudden sound of glass breaking, sharp and jarring in the stillness of the night. Rick’s gaze snapped toward the noise, landing on the figure of Josh, stumbling drunkenly down the street, a broken liquor bottle lying at his feet.

Rick sighed, a little frustrated, but more than that, exhausted.

Carl looked over at Rick, his eyes focused on the messy, intoxicated figure. “Dad…” Carl started, his voice low.

Rick hesitated, the guilt tugging at him for a moment. He didn’t want to deal with this. But he knew he had to. Not for Josh’s sake, but because the man was a danger to himself, stumbling around like this.

“Take Judith,” Rick said, shifting the sleeping child into Carl’s arms. “Let me help get him off the street.”

Carl nodded, adjusting Judith’s weight. He followed Rick’s lead, looking at the man with concern.

Rick turned back toward Josh, who was swaying like a tree in the wind. His instincts kicked in. He moved swiftly, grabbed Josh’s arm, and began steering him down the street, toward her house.

“No one talks to me, man,” Josh muttered, his words thick with alcohol. “They jus’… they jus’ avoid me. You know?” He hiccupped, his eyes unfocused. “But they all t-talk to Daisy…”

Rick’s jaw tightened at the mention of Daisy. They climbed the steps together, Josh’s feet dragging with each movement, barely able to keep himself upright. Rick knocked on the door, his knuckles tapping gently, though his mind felt anything but calm.

“They all… all like her,” Josh spat, his breath heavy with the stench of liquor. “She’s got… that… that way about her. Everyone likes Daisy. But me? Nah, they just… they jus’ ignore me… ‘less I’m with her.”

Rick’s blood boiled at the words, the resentment in Josh’s voice striking a raw nerve. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to hold himself together as Josh continued, clearly unaware of the effect his words were having.

“Daisy…” Josh went on, his words slurring more and more as he stumbled along, “…she’s-“ his word died short, ricks word cutting through sharply.

“Enough,” Rick growled, his voice tight with restraint. “That’s enough.”

The minutes stretched out as he waited, and for some reason, Rick felt a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t explain. Why was he nervous? His jaw tightened, and he glanced at the drunken man beside him.

The silence was broken by the soft creak of stairs inside. Then, the door swung open, and there she was.

The moonlight spilled down, casting a soft, ethereal glow over Daisy’s features, highlighting the exhaustion in her eyes. She looked tired, disheveled even, but still… breathtaking. She stood there in loose joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair messy and falling into her face.

Rick’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t look away. Even like this, with her sleep-heavy eyes and messy appearance, she still made his heart race.

“Rick?” Her voice was tired, but there was a soft surprise in it that made his pulse quicken.

She blinked, and her gaze flickered to Josh, the anger or frustration—something unreadable—flashed in her eyes before it disappeared behind a mask of calm.

“What’s going on?”

Rick cleared his throat, struggling to keep his voice steady. “He’s had too much to drink. I’m just… I’m just getting him home.”

“Oh god,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair, her frustration evident on her tired features. “If you can bring him in, he can sleep on the couch.”

Rick nodded wordlessly, stepping into the house and helping Josh inside. The moment he did, the familiar scent of vanilla, maybe mixed with something else, wrapped around him. It was oddly comforting, and it sent a strange chill up his spine.

Rick lowered Josh onto the couch, the man barely conscious, before turning to leave. As he made his way back toward the door, he heard Daisy’s footsteps behind him.

She was close now, too close. Rick felt his muscles tense as she neared him, her proximity disorienting. He stepped out into the cool night air, feeling the weight of her presence lingering in the space between them.

Daisy gave him a soft, tired smile. “Thank you,” she said, her voice gentle, almost like a whisper.

Rick swallowed hard, the words caught in his throat. “Didn’t see you at the party,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

The moonlight highlighted the sharpness of her features, her lips, her eyes. Rick couldn’t help but notice the faint bruise on her bottom lip. His eyes lingered there for a moment too long, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Her smile had dropped slightly. “I got busy,” she breathed out, running a hand through her hair. “Time got away from me.”

Rick nodded, though he didn’t quite believe her. There was something in her voice that didn’t sit right. But he didn’t press. Instead, he found himself backing up, stepping away from her, but not quite wanting to leave.

Daisy shifted on her feet, crossing her arms over her chest, her gaze dropping to the ground before returning to him. “He doesn’t normally drink like this,” she said, her voice quiet, like she was trying to make sense of it herself. “He… he’s been under a lot of pressure lately.”

Rick barely heard her. His eyes kept drifting back to her lip. The way her words didn’t quite add up. The way she avoided his gaze when she spoke.

Before he could stop himself, the question tumbled out. “What happened to your lip?” His finger pointed toward her injury—his head tilting to the side. His words felt heavy, like he already knew the answer.

Daisy stiffened for a moment, the mask of calm cracking slightly. But then she relaxed, the tension draining from her body as she leaned against the doorframe. A soft laugh bubbled from her lips. “Toddlers,” she said with a shake of her head. “They’re rough.”

Rick’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. She was a damn good liar. He could see that now, and something in him churned uncomfortably at the thought.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, he just looked around the porch, feeling the cool air of the summer night wash over him as he took a deep breath.

He was prepared to leave, but there she was, standing right before him with those wide eyes.

Daisy stepped closer, her movements slow and graceful, almost as if she was aware of the tension in the air. Rick’s breath caught in his throat, shifting on his feet—meeting her gaze just as she came to a stop in front of him. Her eyes were warm, tired, but soft. The moonlight brushed against her features, and she looked nothing short of stunning. Even in that moment, so simple and raw, she managed to stir something in the pit of his belly.

Without a word, Daisy reached up, and before Rick could even process what was happening, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It was innocent—nothing more than a polite thank you for his help, but Rick felt the touch like a spark, a current that traveled through his skin and down to his very core. It was brief, too quick to be anything more, but it was enough to leave him reeling, disoriented, and desperate for something that wasn’t going to come.

Rick’s pulse thudded in his chest, his body tense, his mind spinning in a blur of emotions. He didn’t know why this innocent gesture was hitting him so hard. It was just a kiss on the cheek. That was all.

But the way her lips had touched his skin—the softness of it, the warmth that lingered—made everything inside him ache in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted more. He wanted to pull her close, kiss her, feel her hands in his. But he knew he couldn’t. Not like this.

Daisy stepped back, smiling softly at him. “Goodnight, Rick,” she said, her voice gentle, as if nothing at all had changed. It was casual. Simple. Sweet.

But Rick couldn’t breathe. He stood there for a moment, his hand instinctively going to his cheek, as if trying to keep her touch with him, as if it was something he could hold onto. The warmth she left behind was intoxicating, and he couldn’t shake it. He didn’t want to.

Daisy turned away, retreating back into her home with a final glance over her shoulder, leaving Rick standing in the darkness, a wreck of conflicting emotions. The night felt warmer now, the air heavier.

He stood frozen, still feeling the soft press of her lips on his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, and a dull ache settled in his chest that he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just a kiss—it wasn’t just that.

It was her.

And for a brief, painful moment, Rick let himself imagine what it would feel like to be with her—really with her, not in the way he had with anyone else in this world.

But he wasn’t sure if it was something he could ever have, and he hated himself for even letting his thoughts drift that way. He took a shaky breath, then finally turned and walked away, unable to stop the feeling of her touch, the memory of her kiss, from following him through the night.