#i wont look a gift horse in the mouth anymore just let it continue

[kirbyddd]

i dont know why the last 2 days ive been randomly un-dissociating like some of my senses just start working again and im aware of them instead of having to like try to read their feedback manually, my body just goes *Windows 10 USB sound*

why now

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

meet cute pt2 (everybody knows)

Shigaraki does end up texting the number Natsou gave him, a lot more often than he expected to. It isn’t a good idea, he knows. However it does prove handy when Shigaraki needs to get into the library or when he needs to know how deep a cut has to be before you need stitches. So he uses the excuse that Natsou is useful and keeps texting him.

Even when Natsou continues to flirt with him and starts giving him the nickname of ‘cutie’. It caused him to blush every time. Natsou hadn’t gotten tired of watching him get flustered yet.

“Hey Nat can you come grab a book for me? I can’t reach it and I haven't seen a stool or anything around”  Shig asks.

He gets up from his textbooks and comes over.Instead of following where Shigaraki was pointing though he wraps his hands around Shigaraki’s waist and lifts him up.

“This work cutie?”

Shigarakis stomach swoops pleasantly, shit Natsou was strong. He lets his brain take a few minutes to reboot. 

What was he after again? Was Natsou even struggling to hold him up as he tried to repair his brain? 

“Really? I've told you I have a destructive quirk, what if I had used it on you?” He fakes some annoyance while he grabs the title he had been looking at. 

“You wear gloves all the time just so you don’t accidentally destroy something with a quirk you've lived with for 16 years. I highly doubt you’d ever use your quirk on me without meaning to” he reasons.

“Put me down” Shigaraki demands and holds on tightly to Natsou’s well muscled arms until his feet are safely on the ground again. Just because Natsou might drop him and no other reason.

“Maybe I just wanted to hold you for a bit? Besides, your face is even cuter when you're flustered Shig.” Natsou smirks.

“You really need to get your damn eyes checked.”  Shig sasses as he heads back to the tables.

“I’m pretty sure I can see just fine.” Natsou shoots back as follows him.

They study in relative silence for a few more hours until Natsou starts to pack up. It’s a little earlier than he normally does and Shigaraki glances up in confusion.

“Want to get some coffee? I know a cafe nearby that's 24 hours and you're here later than I am every night. I refuse to believe you can do that without caffeine.” Natsou asked as he shoved the last notebook into his messenger bag.

“You just want an excuse to take me out,'' Shigaraki grumbled.But he smiled while doing so. He was sweet and seemed to mean all the compliments he kept throwing Shigs way. If Natsou ever actually asked him out on a date he would go. Man is way out of his league and Shig knows it, he probably was just joking. He started packing up anyways, he has to be up in a few hours for LoV business.

“So that’s a yes?” Natsou grins and adjusts his bag a little on his shoulder.

“Wait, you're serious? You're actually asking me out?”

“Wait, you thought I was joking about finding you attractive?”

“Yes? Not in like a bad way I guess, but I didn't think you would seriously want to take me out either?” Shigaraki winced his own self doubt in his voice. He sure as fuck didn’t sound like the leader of the most dangerous villians in japan right now.

“Well, I wasn't. I'm serious. Would you like to go on a date and come get some coffee with me Shig?” Natsou smiled and held out his hand.

“You know what? Why the hell not. I’d love to Natsou.” Shig shoved his notebook into his own backpack.

“You seem to care about your roommates a lot? What’s the story there?” Natsou asked as they left the library and started walking to the cafe.

“I'll tell you what the story is if you tell what the story is with you studying your ass off in a library by yourself every night is” Shigaraki said hoping Natsou wouldn’t actually answer and drop the subject. He has no idea how to explain the league to anyone not in it. How close they are and what they've gone through.

“My dad is an ass hat who only thinks about quirks and power. He’s wealthy but wont help me out, so I've got to keep my grades up for a free ride scholarship.”Natsou didn't look at shigaraki as he spoke in a calm voice.

“Quirks aren't everything and I think you're doing more for society as is than anyone else is right now, heros are glorified cops. On a power trip. The general public’s reaction to them makes it so much worse. No one helps out their community anymore.” Shigaraki didn’t sound as crazy as he once would have. Tearing down society would only create more situations like what the league members had come from.

“My roommates and I are very close to answer your question. We’ve all had a rough time and some bad luck. So we tend to look out for each other.”

“How’s your friend with the villainous quirk doing? Or is there a better term I can use for that? Quirks don't make a person so it feels wrong to call her a villain based on that? I have to admit i don't have many friends and don't know what most people with quirks like that call them.”

“The fact that you're asking is everything she could ask for. Just call it a quirk. She actually likes her quirk; it's everyone else that's the problem.” the fact that Toga is a villain didn’t really matter. So was he and yet he was out on a date with a pre med student who was way out of his league.

“We’re here, I think you're going to like this place.” Natsou brings them to a stop outside a small cafe.

“You brought me to a cat cafe?” he whispers. There’s a black cat about a year or so old that’s walking back and forth along the window. When Shigaraki makes eye contact it puts it paw up against the window and paws at the glass separating them. He can faintly hear the purr through the glass.

“If there’s one thing cuter than cats it's a cutie holding a cat” Natsou squeezed his hand in his.

“I still can’t believe you think I'm cute?” It was just a little unbelievable to shig, that someone so attractive looking and smart in a field where he could truly help others would take an interest in him.

“You're very cute Shig, like how you hide behind your hair when you're flustered and how you blush when I give you compliments, what made me want to ask you out is that you care so much about your friends. you sneak out every night into a library and study as hard as a premed student.” he states seriously and when Shigaraki goes to hide his face behind his hair again he grabs his chin gently, so he can look him in the eyes.

“I-Okay. You know I find you attractive too right?” 

“I hope so! You're finally on a date with me!” Natsou jokes and holds open the door for him.

The cafe is split in two parts inside. One half has the cats and some chairs and toys set up among the cat trees and beds.The other half of the cafe is covered in plants. Every table has at least 2 and the door has some sort of exoctic and colorful vine growing all around it. If Shigaraki didn't know better he would say it moved when they came in. There's no cheerful bell to announce them coming in but the barista behind the counter seems to hear the door open anyways and greets them without looking up from wiping down the counter.

“Hello, I'll be with you in just one moment.” 

Shigaraki froze, he had forgotten that he was a nation wide known villain and that he would be recognized if he did something as simple as go to a cat cafe.

Shigaraki stood awkwardly next to Natsou and looked at the menu. He had no idea what a purrachino was or a meowchiato but the cats next to the images looked adorable. He ended up ordering a random drink. Hoping the red head wouldn’t look up the entire time he was there.

Natsou ordered tea and brought out his wallet. 

“Your total comes to - Oh i know you.” The redhead who’s name tag read kurama stared at Shigaraki in shock.

He couldn’t believe he had forgotten, That his roommates and himself were all wanted villains. Very famous wanted villains. He winced and started trying to wiggle out of one glove while the other stayed in Natsou’s hand. He would probably have to decay kurama and fight his way out to avoid being arrested.

“Hello , it’s nice to see you again.” he tried to play off like he knew the barista. Maybe buy himself a few seconds and get the damn glove off. He was going to miss the quiet evenings with Natsou.

Kuruma looked down at his hand linked in Natsou’s and his attempts to get out of his glove.

“It’s okay! Um we didn’t get along in school but everybody gets a new lease on life or something right?” kurama smiled at them and set about taking the money from Natsou. Acting like nothing was wrong and even throwing Shigaraki a lifeline to get himself out of the situation.

“I hadn’t thought I would see anyone from umm school.” He mutters and as hard as it is for him to not look at the floor he holds eye contact with kurama.

“I won’t tolerate the same kind of trouble you got up to in school in my cafe but you're welcome here anytime you want some coffee and a quiet place to bring your friend” kurama smiled and placed the hot drink’s down down.

“Can we go see the cats?” Shigaraki asked to change the subject. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth but also really wanting to pet the cats pacing alongside the window in the other room.

“Hmm no one else should be coming in for a couple hours and although we usually lock them away at night i can make an exception for you two.”He grabs a set of keys off the wall and lets them in. 

“Don’t pick them up but we can see if they will sit in our laps when we sit down.” Natsou waves his fingers at a giant orange cat that was beelining for him.

“Do you  come here often? That one seems to know you.” Shigaraki sat in a nearby chair and the cat black cat from before crawled into his lap. He stroked the fur baby and he tried to find the name off one of the sheets on the wall. The sheets on the wall had their pictures names and information about how to adopt them.

“I do, I would take this big guy home but my dorm doesn't allow cats. The guy you're holding is called spade. He doesn't usually warm up to people.” Natsou said and watched as two more cats came and curled up around Shigaraki. Another cat came and curled up in between them an older tortoise shell named turtle. A tiny white one started dragging a wand toy over.

Natsou smirked and took out his phone. His boyfriend was being buried in cats and it was too cute to not become his background.

Shigaraki sipped at his coffee and stroked the cats around him. He hadn't been sure what it was when he ordered it but it tasted heavenly. A mix of coffee, chocolate and something that made it slightly spicy with whip cream. 

“I took a picture of you for my background. Is that okay?''

“Only if you don’t show anyone else” He had already gotten lucky with the barista recognizing him and not calling a hero or freaking out.

“Aww are you embarrassed? you look so cute here!” he teased and Shig tried to turn his face away before Natsou could see him blush.

“A little” he admitted and started playing with the toy the cat had dragged over to him.

“At what? Me taking pictures? Me taking pictures of you or me talking pictures of you playing with the cats?”  he gently prodded.

“Both I guess?”

“Look at how cute you look Shig” Natsou showed him the photo he had just taken.

The photo showed Shigaraki differently than he was used to seeing himself. He looks normal for once. In jeans and a regular shirt instead of dirty sweats. Hair cleaned, brushed and bangs pulled back on top of his head with a hair tie stolen off Magne. He actually looks decent if you ignore the scars on his neck or face.

“Yeah I'm okay with it I guess, you know you're kinda a sap. Calling me a cutie all the time and paying for me. You're even taking pictures of our first date and setting me as your background.” he smiled.

“I mean it when I say I like you Shig and if we get the chance to let this go somewhere I really want to be able to look back on our first date”

“A sap. You're a complete sap.”

‘Says the guy buried in cats- hey charlie! You've betrayed me.” the orange cat that had been getting attention from Natsou moved on to Shigaraki and started rubbing up against him. The tiny white cat that had been playing had exhausted herself and already joined the black one in his lap.

“I'm being buried in cats Nat! Help!” Shigaraki, honest to god giggled. They stayed for about a half hour and then had to leave. Their time was up.Shigaraki had a team to lead , although he told Natsou he had to work, and Natsou had to go to class. 

Kurama stopped them on their way out the door.

“A few years ago I needed a fresh start and I got one, if you are working towards the same thing I'm happy to help Shigaraki san.”He gave Shigaraki a fern with purple flowers.

“A gift , it will help you on your way to a fresh start” he smiled and wrote out a short list of instructions while they waited.

“Thank you kurama san.” Shigaraki says and checks his gloves before he takes the potted plant. It shivers twice when he takes it and then is still.

Natsou smirks at Kurama and nudges Shigaraki's shoulder.

“He gave me a plant too the first time I came in. They seem to be hard to kill. No matter how often I forget to water it, it always bounces back to life.” He smiled and grabbed a knitted hat from a box.

“If I got you a cat ear hat would you wear it?” 

“Give it here and we’ll see” Shigaraki snatched the bright blue blob of fabric and immediately put it on. Once it was on he quickly pulled out his phone and took a selfie with Natsou. Natsou was looking at Shig and had one arm around his shoulder. You could practically see the hearts in his eyes as he looked at Shig. 

“Now I have a new background too” he put his phone away and went to put the knitted hat back in the box Natsou had gotten it from.

“You can keep the hat’ kurama started shutting off lights as he shooed the two of them out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and it's too late for you to argue with me.  I have to close up shop so i'm afraid i have to kick you two love birds out.”

“We’re going kurama, thank you for everything.” Natsou grabbed Shigaraki’s hand and pulled them out of the cafe.

“I guess we have to go our separate ways now” Shigaraki pulled the cat hat back on. 

“Yeah i guess so,but um you have my- can i kiss you Shig?” Natsou blurted out.

“Please” Shig met Natsou halfway. Leaning up to meet Natsou’s lips. It was sweet and chaste and everything he wanted a first kiss to be. Soft and pliant and with someone he really liked being with.

“Call me?” Natsou leaned down for another kiss.

“We got stuff to do Nat, I’ll call you later tonight.” Shigaraki pulled himself away from Natsou and started his long walk home.

@night-owl-1234 after a long wait i have a update!

[saxonspud]

Remember me

Soulmates will always find one another

It was dark, that much I knew. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should be afraid, but I didn't know why.

The dark right now was the least of my worries. I was cold, I was naked and I couldn’t move. Not because I was restrained in anyway, but because I had no strength. I could move my arms and legs, but I couldn’t sit up, or even roll over for that matter. I felt something wet and sticky on the floor, it smelt funny, I recognised the smell. A faint trace of iron that clung to my taste buds when I sniffed the air. I was laying in a pool of blood.

But none of that scared me the most, even though it probably should have.

What scared me was I couldn't remember how I got here, what had happened or who I was.

I heard a loud bang, it startled me. I wasn't sure if I should try and be quiet, or call out for help. I tried to call out, but my mouth couldn't seem to make the words, so I just screamed, then I started to cry.

I heard voices, deep gruff voices. Light came cascading into the room as the door was opened. It was too bright, it hurt my eyes. I screamed louder, and cried harder.

“Hosea, Dutch! It’s a baby,” the gruff voice yelled.

It was too loud, I kept screaming, in my head telling him to stop shouting, but it kept coming out of my mouth as a scream, a wail or a cry.

I opened my eyes as a shadow crept across me, blocking out some of the light, making it bearable. Then I wished I had kept my eyes closed.

A boy leaned over me, he was young, sixteen or seventeen at most, but still big. He seemed familiar. Why was he so big. I looked at my hand, covered in red goo. It wasn't that he was big, it was because I was small. I looked at my baby hands, then started to scream louder, and cry harder.

What had happened to me, I knew stuff, I could recognise voices, recognise smells, tastes.

I screwed my eyes closed willing myself to remember, but I couldn’t, making me even more distressed.

The boy just stared at me, then looked over his shoulder.

“it wont stop screaming!” He huffed.

The boy stepped away, he was going to leave me. I moved my arms and legs, and cried louder.

Then someone else leant over me.

“It’s ok little one,” he whispered.

His hands scooped me up, they were huge. My head was held with one hand and my body with the other. His hands were so warm. He gently shushed me. I was so tiny, I suddenly realised why I couldn't talk, hell I couldn't even support my own head! I was a baby. But how?

“Go see if you can find a blanket, Arthur,” the man whispered.

I stopped screaming, and looked at the man’s face who was holding me. He was older, with blonde hair.

Then I heard another voice, much deeper.

“what the hell happened here?” he asked.

I started to cry again.

I saw the other man’s face, as he looked down at me. He had dark hair, and dark eyes. He looked kind of sad. He held his little finger out. I stopped crying, and I grabbed it in my hand. I pulled it towards my mouth. Suddenly realising how hungry I was.

“She’s not very old is she, Hosea?” the dark haired man whispered, as I sucked on his finger.

The man who was holding me, he must be Hosea, shook his head, “a day or so, I’m guessing.”

“The woman must be her mother, she not been dead long,” the dark haired man whispered.

I started to cry again, the finger wasn't easing the emptiness in my stomach.

“Whatcha gonna do with it,” Arthur asked, as he handed Hosea a blanket.

I cried harder, he was too noisy.

“Try and talk a bit quieter, son. She’s only a baby, she has sensitive ears.” the dark haired man whispered, sternly.

“Sorry, Dutch,” Arthur whispered.

He grabbed the blanket, “Give her here, Hosea.”

Dutch draped the blanket over his arm, and Hosea gently put me on top of it. Dutch then wrapped the blanket round me, nursing me in the crook of his arm.

“Lets get back home, then we can clean her up a bit and see if we can find something to feed her with,” he whispered.

He gently rocked me, stroking my cheek with his finger, until I stopped crying.

I wondered if the shock of what happened, had brought back memories of a previous life.

The three men, looked strangely familiar. Maybe I should stop trying to remember, and concentrate on being a baby.

That was easier said than done. A baby shouldn’t know the smell of blood, or to be afraid of the dark, or even know what a horse is. I knew, as soon as we walked out of the cabin. Once I was close enough to focus. I saw the horses.

As Dutch carried me towards his horse, I had that same feeling of familiarity. The horse turned its head, sniffing towards me. It quietly nickered. As though it recognised me.

Hosea looked at Dutch, “how very odd,” he commented.

Dutch looked down at my face, then at his horse, then back to me.

“Very odd indeed,” he whispered.

Babies sleep a lot, I knew that too. Despite being hungry, the warmth of the blanket and the rocking sensation of the horse, soon lulled me to sleep.

That was until the horse stopped, then my eyes opened and I started to cry. My tummy hurt from being empty for too long.

Dutch tried to sooth me with his little finger, letting me suckle on it, but when no food was forthcoming, my wails continued.

As he walked away from the horses, I heard a woman’s voice.

“Is that a baby? What are you doing with a baby?” She questioned.

Dutch carried me over to the woman, she cooed when she saw me.

“We found her in a cabin we were robbing, someone got there first, killed her mama and left her to starve to death. Guess they couldn’t bring themselves to kill a babe!” Dutch whispered.

Dutch handed me to the woman, I wanted to be with him, he was warm and he made me feel safe. I screamed and cried, trying to kick my legs and arms, but they were wrapped up in the blanket.

“Hush now, sweetheart,” the woman soothed, “lets get you cleaned up and fed.”

I was carried inside, similar to the place I had left, but no horrible smell of blood.

“Arthur, heat me up some water, and then fetch me the rest of the milk from this morning,” she barked.

I screamed, she was being loud like Arthur.

“Susan, she’s a little noise sensitive,” Hosea chided.

I looked at the woman, and she nodded, “I’m sorry sweetheart, was I too loud.” she whispered, as she rocked me.

The boy, Arthur, came along with some things and put them on the table, with a loud thud. When I looked at him, he looked grumpy.

“It’s gonna be trouble,” he huffed, but not too loudly. He’d already been told off for that.

Susan started to feed me some milk, by dripping it off the end of a spoon, into my mouth. Once I had been fed, I didn't feel the need to cry anymore. She unwrapped me from the blanket, and put me on her shoulder, gently patting and rubbing my back until I burped.

Some things I found unsettling, vestiges of left over memories from my former life. Others I didn't really care about. Worse for me was not being able to tell them what I wanted. But all, with the exception of the boy they called Arthur, seemed kind.

Once I was fed, Susan cleaned me up, until I had no more of my mother’s blood on me. Something inside told me that I should be sad, but I didn't feel it. My first memory of being a baby, was being found by the three men. I didn't even remember my mothers face, which was probably for the best.

Susan looked at me, and smiled. “We should take her to the doctor in the morning, he’ll be able to find her a good family,” she stated.

“No that ain’t gonna happen!” Dutch growled.

His voice was loud, and I started to cry.

He immediately came over, and took me from Susan. His hands, if anything were larger than Hosea’s. He held me out in front of him, supporting my head in one hand, whilst holding the rest of me in the other.

His thumb gently rubbing circles on my back with his thumb.

“This little girl belongs with us, I know it,” he whispered, and gently kissed my forehead.

I cooed happily.

“Dutch? Is this wise?” Hosea asked.

Dutch looked at me and smiled, “It may not be wise, but it’s right.”

Hosea walked over and stood next to Dutch, gazing down at me.

“Well tomorrow, we better go into town and get some baby supplies, and we better give her a name!” Hosea chuckled.

Dutch put me in the crook of his arm, leaving his other hand free. He gently touched my nose with his forefinger.

“What do you think, cutie pie, what would be a good name for you?” he whispered.

I tried to grab his finger, but my focus was still a bit off.

He brought his hand, closer to mine, so that I could grab one of his fingers.

“Such a clever little girl, aren't you?” Dutch cooed, and blew a raspberry on my belly.

I gurgled, and kicked my legs.

“You’re gonna be daddies special little girl, aren’t you?” Dutch cooed.

Hosea frowned, “Dutch?”

Dutch smiled, for the first time in nine months, since losing his beloved Annabelle.

“She’s a gift, Hosea.” he hesitated, “Annabelle,” Dutch’s voice cracked, “she always said that if we had a little girl, she wanted to call her Anastasia. So...” Dutch’s voice trailed off.

I looked up at Dutch’s face, Annabelle? Why was that name so familiar. Why did his eyes look so sad.

I wanted to tell him everything would be ok, but it just came out as a gurgle.

Dutch smiled, and gently started rocking me in his arm.

“I think my little Anastasia needs a nap,” he whispered.

My eyes started to feel heavy. The warmth of Dutch’s hands and his soothing voice, gently lulled me to sleep.

[shimmershaewrites]

Merry and Bright *4* (a Walking Dead ficlet, Caryl AU).

Title:  Merry and Bright *4*

Rating:  K. 

Warnings:  more Christmas fluff.  It’s truly nauseating at this point, lol.  

Characters/Pairings:  Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, Sophia Peletier, mentions of Merle Dixon, Andrea Harrison, Amy Harrison, Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes, Judith Grimes, Dale Horvath, Irma Horvath. 

                                               Merry and Bright *4*

  She invites Daryl to spend the holidays with her and Sophia. 

 His brother’s off testing the hospitality of another Georgia state pen and Andrea’s soaking up the sun on some beach somewhere with her baby sister.  Rick and Lori have their hands full with Carl and their brand-new baby girl and well. 

 Daryl’s alone.  Just like her and Soph.  So Carol invites him.  Just blurts out the invitation to ride up to her boss’s mountain getaway for a few days like she’s asking him if he wants coffee to go with his dessert and wouldn’t you know it? 

 Wonder of all wonders, Daryl says yes. 

   The cabin is small.  Hardly a five-star establishment but Carol falls in love with it on sight.  Sophia does, too. 

 Daryl doesn’t say much. 

 Not that he ever does.  It’d taken months of shyly shared bits and pieces of conversation at the diner for him to even gift her with his name and even longer for him to grow comfortable enough to accept her gentle teasing for what it was:  an offer of friendship extended from one lonely person to another. 

 He doesn’t say much.  Anything really.  But he smiles. 

 That boyish little quirk of one corner of his mouth that sets her heart to stumbling with decidedly unfriendly thoughts.  Makes her cheeks grow pink and warm even in the unfamiliar chill of the air, and she laughs to play it off.  Distracts him with some lame joke about being hungry enough to eat a horse. 

 “Me, too,” Sophia comes out of her shell long enough to agree. 

 Daryl glances down at his boots and he grows serious again.  Shrugs his shoulders and looks up at them both, gnaws absently at his thumbnail.  “Passed some horses a few miles back.” 

 Her mouth falls open and her daughter giggles.   

 Daryl, for his part, looks at them with sheepish satisfaction.  His blue eyes dancing and bright.  “You said…” 

  It’s a little easier after that.  Easier than she expected anyway and the rest of the day passes quickly as they settle in.  Each claiming their cozy little corners and establishing a sort of rhythm. 

 The small fridge is pretty bare, but the cupboards are well stocked with non-perishables and other basic necessities and soon Sophia and Daryl are slurping soup from spoons and sneaking shy peeks at one another across a narrow, hand-carved kitchen table while Carol watches with utmost amusement.  “Good?” she asks. 

 The answer comes in quiet unison.  “Good.” 

 “Good,” she says. 

  Cocooned beneath a mound of blankets later that night, Sophia hugs her doll to her chest and accepts the kiss Carol presses to her forehead.  Yawns as she wriggles further down in the little bed and captures her hand before she can leave.  “I like him, Mama.” 

 The twinkle lights twined overhead illuminate her soft, sleepy smile, the freckles across her cheeks and nose, the truth in her eyes, and Carol finds herself voicing her own admission.  “I do, too, Sweetie.  I do, too.”  

   They venture back down the mountainside the next morning.  Back into the quaint little town they passed along the way where they wander into a tiny general store too authentic to qualify as a tourist trap. 

 That’s not to say Sophia doesn’t find plenty to interest her as children are wont to do; Carol’s not immune to the store’s charming wares either and finds herself drawn to a display of handmade jewelry.  Necklaces and earrings.  Bracelets and Pendants.  All bearing a similar design.  She looks up, startled, when the storeowner approaches.  Smiles knowingly at her. 

 “Local girl made ‘em.  Pretty ain’t they?” 

 Fingers lightly tracing over the delicate design, she murmurs, “They’re beautiful.”

 “They’re Cherokee roses.  Ever hear the legend?” 

 Shaking her head, she tells him, “Can’t say that I have.” 

 “Well, legend has it…” 

 Spying Sophia trying to gain her attention halfway across the store, Daryl hovering patiently, protectively nearby, she apologizes.  “I’m sorry.  My daughter needs me.” 

 “Then you must go to her.  Your husband looks a little out of his element.” 

 “Daryl?  He’s not my…I’m not…we’re not…married,” she finishes, long after the matronly woman has left her side to help another customer. 

 “Mama!” Sophia waves her over.  “Come look.” 

   They do some more shopping.  Do a little sightseeing.  Eat a late lunch before returning to the cabin.   

 Sophia clomps up the steps in a new pair of snow boots Carol doubts she’ll get much use of back home, but she’d seen the look of unspoken longing in her daughter’s eyes and she’d been unable to deny her such a simple happiness, especially knowing Ed would have never allowed what he deemed a frivolous purchase. 

 “Do you think the man at the restaurant was right, Mama?  You really think it’s going to snow?” 

 “Think it might,” Daryl answers for her.  Quiet and sure, he gazes up at the gray sky and nods.  “Think it just might.  Not sure how much, though.” 

 Her girl looks at him like he’d just handed her the moon and all its surrounding stars and Carol can’t help but smile after her as she disappears inside, her head all but in the clouds. “Adding weather forecaster to your talents now?” she teases him, companionably bumps his shoulder. 

                                                             He blushes, bumps her shoulder back with his own.  “Ain’t got no talents.” 

 “Oh, I beg to differ, Mr. Dixon.  Making her smile like that?  It’s definitely a talent.” 

 “Stop.” 

   They wake to find a winter wonderland the next morning, the snow still swirling down in thick white sheets that continue to fall throughout the day and into the night. 

 With the fire crackling in the fireplace and her chilled hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate as she watches Sophia giggle at Ralphie’s plight on the television, she feels warm with contentment.  With something closer to happiness since, well, ever. 

 The pink bunny suit of shame pulls a throaty chuckle from deep within Daryl’s chest and unconsciously, he shifts closer to her on the leather sofa.  The back of his hand brushing her socked foot before he stills. 

 Quiet as a waiting mouse before she nudges him with her toes, gently distracts him with the movie as she scoots closer until the little points of contact between them spark even more warmth within her.  “I’m sure Aunt Clara meant well.” 

 “Pfft.  Right.” 

   “You have your coat?” 

 Sophia nods.   

 “Your mittens, too?” 

 She sighs.  “Yes, Mama.” 

 “You’ll stay with Daryl the whole time?” 

 “Ain’t gonna let her get eat by a bear.  If that’s what’s worryin’ you,” Daryl gruffly attempts to appease her from where he waits patiently by the door.

 “Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Sophia reminds her.  “We need a tree.” 

 Tucking her baby girl’s hair beneath her hood with exasperated fondness, Carol tries to dial back some of her worry.  “You don’t even believe in Santa anymore.” 

 “Maybe not.  But I still believe in magic,” she tells her with a little crinkle of her nose and a nod in Daryl’s direction that somehow goes undetected by the man himself. 

 Least Carol thinks it does, but she’s a little off-kilter and she can’t be really sure.  What with her twelve-year-old playing matchmaker for her.  “Sophia.”

 “Ain’t gonna let her out of my sight,” Daryl promises.  “You gotta trust that.” 

 “I do.  Daryl, I…I trust you.  I do.” 

 “We’re coming back, Mama.  With the prettiest Christmas tree you’ve ever seen.” 

 “Yeah, well.  Better make sure it’s on Dale’s property.” 

 “Mama.”

 “Listen to your girl.” 

 “Alright.” 

   It’s no Charlie Brown tree, but it’s no beauty pageant winner either.  Still. 

 It has character and Carol’s always thought beauty was in the eye of the beholder anyway.  She smiles as she traces a fingertip over one of the shiny glass ornaments they’d found tucked away in a little storage closet, just one of many monuments of a lifetime love story, and she steps back.  Surveys the fruits of their hard work. 

 “Looks good,” Daryl rumbles. 

 “It does.” 

 “Looks real pretty.” 

 She laughs softly, gazes up at him wonderingly.  Because he’s always been sweet, unerringly so even if he’s never realized it.  But he’s never been one to offer compliments and it’s just a Christmas tree, but she knows him.  Maybe not as long as she’s known Andrea or Rick.  Maybe not even as long as she’s known Dale.  But she knows him.  Has known him since that very first cup of coffee she poured.  In many ways, he’s a reflection of herself.  Just battling every day to find himself in a world that hasn’t always treated him kindly.  She knows him.  He’s working through something.  Screwing up the courage to say what he really wants to say.  “Daryl?” she prompts gently.  Quietly because Sophia’s sleeping just down the hall and something tells her this?  This belongs just to them.   

 He holds out his hand, palm up, and something silver glitters beneath the rainbow reflection of the tree’s lights. 

 “Daryl?” she breathes when he hooks his crooked pinky finger in the chain and the delicate rendering of a Cherokee rose shimmers before her eyes.  “What…” 

 “Saw you lookin’ at it.”  His broad shoulders shrug and his blue eyes shy away from her face.  “Know you liked it, and I thought…thought you should have it.” 

 “I…Daryl.  I don’t know what to…” 

 “If you don’t want it, if you thinkin’ maybe it ain’t appropriate…” 

 Mercifully, she cuts off his rambling.  “I want it.  I want…”  You her heart silently screams.  “Thank you.  It’s beautiful.  I…put it on?”  She shows him her back, holds her hand to her pounding heart, and wills the tears she feels threatening away as she feels him fumble clumsily with the clasp at the nape of her neck.  When the necklace finally settles in the well of her throat, she leans back against his solid form.  Feels the pounding of his own heart and lets it calm her own.  “Thank you,” she murmurs. 

  He doesn’t kiss her and she makes no move to kiss him.  Not yet.  That’s not the way they operate, and she’s okay with that.  Really.  She is.  Besides.  She wants to stand on that precipice a little longer, enjoy the view and glory in the slow fall.

 After all, Sophia isn’t the only one that still believes in magic.  Not at all.