Howell Lake

”Ya fell in in there? Come on, sweetie, that’s my song!” Heather heard the soft voice of Jessica call out from the other side of the bathroom door.

She dried her hands in the towel and quickly glared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face easily revealed the amount of alcohol that buzzed through her system; eyes a little heavy and her cheeks blushing pink. With a sigh and a smile on her lips, she unlocked the door and made her way out into the hall where an impatient Jessica was waiting.

Jess immediately grabbed at Heather’s arm and pulled her past the crowded hallway and into the living room where loud speakers were blasting out a song she didn’t recognize. It had to be some Georgian thing, she thought, because as Heather looked around, a lot of the girls that were dancing on the spot that’d clearly been claimed to be the dance floor for this evening’s party all sang along to the rushed lyrics of the now-playing country song. Heather laughed out as Jessica swirled around with waving arms and rocking hips and she felt the flowing heat of the many dancing teens that were shaking their body around her. She felt a little out of place as she tried to dance along to the ever changing rhythm of the song but the alcohol in her veins soon had her forgetting that.

She swayed her head to the sounds of a strident guitar and laughed along with Jessica as they danced together. When the song ended, Jessica took Heather’s hands in hers and they both swirled around.

“And ya claimed to be a bad dancer?” Jessica grinned at her a little out of breath, “Honey, then ya aint seen nothin’ yet. Ya thirsty? Imma get us some drinks, stay here.”

And with those words, Heather was left alone on the dance floor with a heaving chest and burning cheeks. She giggled a little before starting to get the same feeling of being out of place from before. Her eyes wandered over the bad lit room to dozens of faces; half of them she’d never seen before and the other half she’d seen a few times at her new school. She swayed a bit on her feet, a smile still parting her lips. Her eyes roamed over to the corner where Cris had been sitting earlier that evening but instead of finding Cris, her eyes locked with a couple of intense blue ones that had her shivering. Fuck.

What was he doing here?

Daryl Dixon was sitting on a bar stool, looking at her, his eyes hard and burning, earning her smile to quickly fade. She hadn’t seen him since that night at the lake.

She gulped down as she reached up her hand to send him a quick wave.

Daryl didn’t wave back.

He just kept glaring at her with that stare that only he could pull off. She shifted in her feet as her self-consciousness crept over her like a shadow. Shrugging her shoulders she started to walk over to him, not knowing what else to do with herself. Her mind was exploding as she closed in on him and her blood rushed through her veins with adrenalin, nervousness and alcohol.

“Um hi,” she stumbled out in a weak voice as she finally reached him, “uh… you seen Cris somewhere?” She reached her arm up to wipe her hand over the back of her neck as she watched him bite at the skin of his thumb.

“No,” he mumbled as he laid his eyes on her again. Her eyes awkwardly dropped to the floor as she searched her mind for something to say. What do you say in situations like that?

She heard him breathe out a quick breath and she almost groaned when she saw his expression. Daryl was smirking at her. A husky laugh escaped her lips and her cheeks flushed red under his stare.

“’M makin’ ya uncomfortable?” he asked over the music that blasted from the speakers. Heather watched him with questioning eyes.

Where are you coming from, Dixon?

A surprised yelp burst from her lips as she felt someone push her from behind and she quickly raised her hands, grabbing out for anything to prevent her from falling down. “Whoa,” Daryl breathed as she almost crashed herself against his shoulder. Instead, when she regained control of her body, she found that her hands were firmly planted on his thighs, her nails clawing at the rough fabric of his jeans.

Before she was able to remove them, someone nudged her shoulder and a familiar girly giggle traveled down her ear. “Wow, Dixon. Ya already have her rippin’ at ya clothes, must say I’m pretty impressed,” Jessica’s voice grinned.

Heather wanted to die right then and there, as embarrassment rushed over her face.

Daryl was smirking again and she finally pulled her hands away from his thighs and turned around to greet her grinning friend.

“Nah,” Daryl said in a raspy voice, “She was just askin’ me ‘bout my smokes. She’s a smoker, this one, d’ know that?”

Heather’s mouth fell open and she turned her face to send him an angry glare. “What?” Jess’ voice cringed.

Heather felt like smacking both of them a good one right in the face so she could escape this horrid situation.

“Yea,” Daryl continued with his burning eyes lingering on Heather’s still flushing red cheeks, “I just asked her if she’d join me outside for one, ya know. Catchin’ up n’ stuff.”

Heather could feel both of their stares on her and she sighed out loudly before turning to Jessica. “Yeah, he did. So thanks,” she said as she grabbed the beer Jess had gotten her with one hand, the other grabbing the wrist of the smirking Dixon boy next to her, “We’ll just be outside.” And off they were.

She practically ran through the thick crowd of teens that filled the house, closely followed by a chuckling Daryl, and stumbled out the front door to end up outside on the porch. She put both hands on the railing and breathed out heavily.

That had been the point of no return; she wasn’t going to hide whatever was going on between Daryl and her from Jess and Cris anymore. Jess was probably already busy babbling on about how Heather had stalked off with Daryl Dixon to Cris and everyone around them.

“Ya a’right there, girl?” Daryl’s voice sounded next to her in its usual raspy manner.

She turned around to watch him smirk at her while pulling out two cigarettes from his pack of Marlborough’s before lighting them both and handing one over for her. She placed the cigarette between her fingers and gulped down a healthy swig of her beer before nodding her head. She watched as he strode over to sit down on the bench over by the corner of the porch and quickly looked down at her feet when his eyes met with hers. The too familiar trembling shiver ran down her spine as she felt his stare on her, his burning eyes trying to figure out what she was thinking.

Problem was, she wasn’t thinking at all.

The awkwardness hung heavy in the air as she started stalking towards him and she felt as if all eyes in the world were on her when she sat down clumsily. The alcohol in her veins really didn’t do anything good for her, did it?

She sighed out before sucking in a long drag of her cigarette. She immediately felt how the nicotine spread in her system which started to make her feel a bit more relaxed. Well, only until she realized she was actually sitting next to Daryl freaking Dixon; the boy she’d kissed, yeah, practically dry humped that night at the lake, who she hadn’t seen since but who’d buzzed around in her mind ever since.

She still remembered how his lips had felt on hers and how hot and rough his fingers had felt on her soft skin. Goose bumps spread across her arms as she sat there, and she quickly hugged her arms around her chest.

“Ya need to tell me sum’thin’,” his voice sounded in her ear, “How the hell can a girl from Seattle be cold here n’ Georgia?”

She felt his hand nudge at her arm and she shivered once more. “’M not cold,” she admitted, mumbling into her beer bottle.

She was everything else but cold; cheeks burning, hot breath and fire racing through her veins. Yep, nothing cold about her at all.

“Then why th’fuck ya shaking n’ stirrin’ all the time? Ya arms look like the ass of a goose for Christ’s sake!”

She closed her eyes as a wide smile crept over her lips. As if I could tell you, Dixon, she thought to herself before gulping down some beer. Obviously avoiding his question, she turned her face to look at him.

He looked a bit tired; eyes darker than usual and his eyelids hung lower than they did the last time she’d seen him. His light brown hair was shagging in his eyes, making him look a bit ragged.

“Rough day?” she asked as a cloud of smoke rolled over his lips. His eyes met with hers and seemed to pierce through her, making her regret asking and even opening her mouth. But after what seemed to be minutes of silence, he nodded his head saying: “Yea. Merle’s been naggin’ me about not helpin’ him out too much wit’his bike. Dog won’t let me sleep.”

Heather was surprised that he was telling her this; telling her something about himself. He didn’t strike her as someone who opened up to anyone; especially not a girl he didn’t really know. But she was thrilled that he did; her interest in him hadn’t declined one bit ever since she met him.

“Yet here you are, partying?” she grinned, earning a smirk from him. He shrugged his shoulders, those freakishly broad shoulders, before he turned in his seat, his knee touching hers lightly, saying: “Yea, well, I aint his bitch. He can fix his own goddamn bike.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Heather could see his shoulders tensing and his fist clenching a little. She frowned. It didn’t really sound like Daryl’s big brother was a good man in particular. All the rumors about Merle and the Dixon dad really freaked her out; a couple of days ago, when Heather and her dad had driven by the Dixon’s workshop, he’d said: “Sweetheart, I want you to stay away from that place, you hear me? I’ve heard nothing but bad things about the men working there. Okay?”

And she’d obliged; told him that she was never gonna go near them. Well, Merle Dixon and the dad that is. Because Daryl was different, she could just tell.

Even though everyone thought he was just like Merle and his dad, Heather could feel that there was this special ‘thing’ about him, this good thing. She just hadn’t figured out what that was yet.

“So,” Heather tried out again, wanting to change the subject so he wouldn’t get any more tensed up than he already was, “about last time…” She bit her lip.

Wow, way to go; start a sentence you don’t know how to end, that’s my girl… She rolled her eyes at herself before taking a drag from her cigarette. She imagined there would be a big fat smirk on Daryl’s lips and was surprised when she glared at him to see his face completely calm and collected.

He waved his hand at her, saying: “Yea, yea, we was both high, I get it. Sometimes weed just does that to ya, aint no big deal.”

Her eyes widened. So that was how he felt? Like it was no big deal and that he’d already forgotten it? She swallowed hard as she felt a weird constriction in her throat. She hadn’t forgotten it. Not at all. Even though she felt really embarrassed to admit it to herself, Daryl had actually been on her mind quite a lot after that night, and she hadn’t regretted kissing him. Not when she remembered how her body had reacted to everything he’d done and said.

But at least now she knew how he felt about it, about her.

“Sum’thin’ wrong there?” he asked her, waking her up from her current staring contest with the wooden planks that was the floor of the porch.

“Uh, no, I just, uh, no, nothing’s wrong.”

She could hear him chuckle. Damn you, Dixon.

“Not much of a talker, are we?”

Her eyes shot back to him. His eyebrows were raised at her and one corner of his mouth was curled upwards. “I could say the same thing about you,” Heather raised at him, cocking her eyebrows just as he’d done.

Daryl snarled at her and turned his gaze out over the street. After some time with a deafening and stroppy silence, Heather sighed out and got up on her feet. She had to find Jess and Cris and ask them if they wanted to take off. Although she knew they were gonna throw questions at her about Daryl like maniacs, she just had to get out of there. But before she made it to the front door, she heard him call out: “Ey!”

She stopped in her tracks and quickly turned around only to gasp out in surprise at how close he suddenly was to her. His face was inches from hers and his eyes were burning, the famous Dixon-glare making her feel very small. His hand reached up, almost touching her shoulder, before he let it dump back down to hang lazily at his side. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, obviously in turmoil about something he wanted to say. “I, uh… I don’t,” Daryl tried, his voice low and deep, “I don’t regret it, ya know. Us, um… our kiss.”

Her eyes widened and she quickly sought some kind of distraction to his burning glaze, so she zoomed in on the small mole over his mouth. But when she saw him wet his lips out of the corner of her eye, she closed them and another shiver waved over her entire body. She heard him hiss out.

“See, y’all doin’ that thing again. Look.” Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his rough fingertips run over the sensitive skin of her collarbone. The feeling was maddening. Her voice came out low and breathy as she admitted: “S’ you. You’re causing it.”

And then she just stood there, waiting with her eyes closed, scared of his reaction to her weird confession. She heard him grunt.

“Ya tellin’ me… that I’m the reason ya shake and shiver all the time?”

She slowly nodded with her eyes still closed. She could feel his heat beam off of him as they stood there, the music from inside the house escaping an open window close to them. She just knew he was gonna laugh his ass off in a moment, just… A quiet yelp sounded from her throat when she felt his fingertips stride over her collarbone again. Her cheeks flushed red as she felt goose bumps spread out over her skin.

“’S it bad?” he asked her.

She shook her head and bit down on her lower lip. Another stroke of his calloused fingers had her exhaling a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in. “Damn,” Daryl breathed which had her lips parting as his hot breath waved over them.

His raspy voice caused something to shoot through her body; a feeling she didn’t recognize and she opened her eyes to look at him. He looked angry, eyes hard and narrowed down at her. Before she knew it, he was pulling her off the porch and over the lawn, away from the house.

She had too much alcohol in her blood to realize what really was happening and she giggled out when she felt herself gently being pushed up something hard. A tree maybe. He was leaning in close to her; his arms on both sides of her head just above her shoulders, supporting his weight on the hard surface behind her. It was dark so she couldn’t really make out his facial expression but she could hear his breathing. Calm and collected.

Something in the back of her mind screamed something at her; an alarm telling her to be careful.

But when his lips softly swayed down the skin of her neck, she pushed that something out of her mind. She felt his tongue lick its way over her collarbone and she almost moaned when he gently bit down on the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder. She’d wanted this ever since their last meeting at the lake and her body was happily arching closer to him.

She threw her hands around his torso and pulled him closer. His body crashed with hers and their lips finally met.

That same strange feeling shot down her body and exploded in the pit of her stomach, causing her to pull her head back. But Daryl didn’t hesitate; he worked his mouth, lips, tongue and teeth over her neck and shoulders while his hands started stroking her trembling thighs. She leaned her head back against the hard surface behind her and panted out into the night.

Daryl just did something to her, made her feel like she’d never felt before, and she couldn’t help but to just lean back and enjoy it. Even though she didn’t really know him all too well, she felt like they shared something together; a strange connection that caused her to feel so helpless under his touch. And when his hands cupped her breasts so tenderly there in the dark night, earning her back to arch, she knew that he felt it too.

“Ya fuckin’ taste like the rain,” Daryl rasped into her ear as he grabbed her butt with both hands and pulled at it, making her abdomen crash with his.

She literally moaned out when she felt… him, hard against her thigh. She’d never been this close to a boy, never felt someone do all those things to her, and she giggled out silently, surprised, when she felt a sticky wetness form between her legs.

“Daryl, please…” she whispered, not knowing what she was pleading him for. She just knew she wanted more. She heard him growl low in his chest when she clawed her nails down his back. She felt one of his hands leave her body to pull at the tight fabric of his jeans between his legs. A bubbling sensation filled her chest and while biting her lower lip, she too let her hand reach down to grab at the bulging hardness.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed into her ear when she felt at him, nudged it, and his other hand that had been busy roaming her upper body tightened around her shoulder.

She moaned at his reaction to her touch and she started to rub her hand at him, up and down the zipper of his jeans. He hissed out.

He tossed her hand to the side, grabbed her butt and lifted her from the ground, pushing her roughly up the hard surface behind her and crashed himself against her, pressing the hardness between his legs against her pelvis.

“Yes,” she panted. She couldn’t get him close enough.

Suddenly she was put down on the ground again, her legs trembling with the sudden weight and sensations that was currently running through her entire body and her eyes widened when she heard the sound of a zipper going down.

Panic quickly flowed through her veins as she felt Daryl’s hands starting to work at her skirt, pulling it upwards and before she knew it, he was grabbing her shoulders and roughly turned her around to face the hard surface. She could smell it as she leaned her face against it; it was a tree.

They were in the woods, away from all of the others, away from the party and away from the house. Her friends.

It was when she heard the sound of Daryl’s pants gliding down his thighs that her heart started to beat faster. Were they… were they gonna have sex? Was this really what it was? Did she want this?

But when she felt Daryl’s warm calloused hands gently glide over her thighs, traveling up to her butt cheeks and the same burning sensation exploded in the pit of her stomach, she stopped thinking.

All that was in her mind was the mysterious boy behind her and how good he was making her feel. She gasped out when she felt something hot and unfamiliar glide over her underwear. Hands pressed at her back, making her bent over a little before she felt them pull down her panties. But no alarm rang through her mind as she put her hands up on the tree for support, nothing telling her to be careful of what was coming.

She felt the same hot and hard unfamiliar thing glide over her now bare bottom, and without her wanting to, her back arched, pushing herself closer to the hot curious thing that was exploring between her legs.

When it glided through her tender folds and along her slick wetness, a muffled moan escaped her lips as she bit down on her lower lip. Daryl’s breathing had gotten heavier; it almost sounded like he was panting behind her. “Ya want… this?” he breathed behind her, his voice cracking at the last word.

Her body was on fire; booze and anticipation had her nodding. And then she felt him enter her.

She muffled a pained cry when she felt his size glide through her core, way too big for her to handle. It felt like he was splitting her, tearing her apart inch by inch and she couldn’t help but to whimper softly.

“’M hurtin’ ya?” Daryl breathed softly behind her, his voice low and raspier than ever, and she felt his thumbs circle on the skin of her hips, soothing her.

She shook her head and gulped down.

There was no way she was gonna tell him that it hurt like hell. Because when she heard how his breathing hitched, the hissing sounds that crept into her ear, she knew that this was what he wanted. And she wanted to give it to him. Make him feel wanted.

She almost sighed in relief when she felt him pull out but soon curled her toes as he pushed himself back in, splitting her just as slowly as before. Daryl groaned behind her.

“Ah, ya feel… ah,” he stuttered and she felt his hands on her hips tighten, his fingers digging into her skin.

She tried to focus on something else, her surroundings; how the warm night breeze gently swayed over the forest floor, swirling the leaves around, and how you could only just hear the music from the house where the party was at, how the teens that were outside chatted and laughed over a cigarette and how the weak sound of a rumbling motorcycle on the street rattled along with the bass of the music. She felt Daryl push himself inside her again and her hands tightened around the dry bark of the tree.

How long did this normally take? she thought to herself as Daryl’s hands reached up to cup her breasts.

He was getting more aggressive now, his thrusts harder and rougher and she felt like her insides were gonna rip soon if he didn’t stop. He panted into her ear and she closed her eyes as she felt shivers run down her spine again and again. The sound of the rumbling motorcycle seemed to have increased as Daryl rocked her back and forth; as if the sounds of people laughing were getting louder and louder. Or was it even laughter?

“Daryl,” Heather breathed, her voice almost just being a whimper. “Mh,” he answered.

It wasn’t laughter. It was yells.

People were yelling back at the house. But Daryl hadn’t seemed to notice, he was still grabbing at her body and pushing himself into her. He suddenly hit something inside of her that had her cry out.

What the hell was that?

She shook her head, focusing back on what had alarmed her just before, and she was gonna stop him, she really was, but when she felt him push himself up in her once more, he hit that something again.

She moaned out as pleasure washed over her, her legs trembling from the unfamiliar growing feeling in her belly. She felt his pace quicken in reaction to her moans, and her head fell down between her shoulders as he hit that magical spot almost every time he thrust into her.

“God,” she cried out slowly, her voice breaking from the force of his thrusts. “Huh,” he breathed out behind her, his movements becoming ragged, his pace quickening, desperate and she shut her eyes and closed her mouth as both pain and pleasure rolled through her entire body.

“I’m there,” Daryl practically whimpered and she felt him tremble behind her, shudder, as he stopped breathing while desperately pounding himself into her in an uneven rhythm.

And she moaned as she realized what was happening, heat flushing over her as he released inside of her.

It wasn’t long before he pulled out of her, earning a small whimper to escape her, and she felt something warm travel slowly down her inner thigh.

As she stood there, overwhelmed by all the sensations that were running through her heated body, she heard him pull up his pants. She awkwardly pushed down her skirt and pulled up her panties before she turned around to watch him. He’d already lit a cigarette and his eyes were on her, burning as always but with a different light to them now. Softer, maybe…

“Something’s happening,” she managed to croak out while raising her hand up to point back to the house, “Someone’s yelling.”

The facial expression on Daryl’s face quickly told her what he thought about that. He couldn’t care less.

His eyes fell to the ground where he mindlessly kicked at a small pile of leaves while a cloud of smoke left his lungs.

Heather bit down on her lip. That hadn’t really been the smartest thing to say, had it? ‘Hey, we just had sex but all I could think about was the fact that someone’s yelling back at the party’… Stupid.

“Um,” she started but when she felt his staring glare at her once more, she clasped her lips shut. “Ya don’t… ya don’t gotta say anythin’ ‘bout it.”

His eyes fell to the forest floor again. She frowned. “Daryl, I…”

“It your first time?” he cut her off.

Heather stared at him for a moment before she nodded with eyes closed. “Yea, mine too,” he said.

Come again, now? she thought, raising her widened eyes at him.

He shrugged his shoulders.

Wow… She would never have thought that Daryl was a virgin. Well, obviously not anymore, but not before either. She’d always seen him as that type of guy that, you know, did those kinda things. A small smile curled at her lips.

“Heather, I real…” Daryl froze in the middle of his sentence as the sound of a motorcycle again rumbled from the other side of the trees. Heather confusedly tried to read his expression but all she could see was a look of fear.

Fear?

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed, and in the blink of an eye he started running down towards the house.

Heather felt like she’d been struck by lightning; her body froze and her heart sank. Did he just… fucking leave her?! “What the fuck?!” she yelled after him but it only seemed to reach the darkness of the night.

Daryl was nowhere to be seen. She felt anger wash over her cheeks as she realized what he’d just done to her; seduced her, brought her out in the woods, seduced her some more, fucked her, he fucking took her virginity, and then he just left her there.

Left her to feel like shit; like some trashy little… whore.

Her eyes started pricking. She felt her legs shake and she quickly sat down on the cool forest floor and breathed out staggered.

Was he seriously that kinda guy? Had everyone around her been fucking right when they’d told her to stay away from the Dixon’s, including Daryl?

She shook her head as she felt the tears starting to stream down her cheeks and her stomach starting to burn. She threw up three times before she was able to get up again.

She felt she was swaying more than a ship over the Atlantic Ocean when she stumbled her way over the lawn that stretched up to the house. A sigh of relief immediately escaped her lips as she saw the worried face of Cristina scout out from the porch. Heather couldn’t get any words out over her swollen lips, so she just waved her hands, hoping Cris would notice. And boy, did she notice.

“Heather?! Where the fuck ya been? I’ve been worryin’ sick ‘bout yo’ ass! Seriously, what the fuck?!”

Heather felt like shit. If she hadn’t cried her eyes dry back in the woods, she would probably have been much more dramatic than she was acting now. Her voice sounded flat, when she heard herself mumble: “Daryl.”

Cris’ eyes widened. Worry was written all over her heart-shaped face. “Dixon?” she asked in a small voice.

Heather nodded and sighed out. Her heart felt heavy as pictures of Daryl flew past her eyes. Fucking shithead Dixon.

“No,” Cris said, shaking her head, “ya can’t have been with him, he’s just been here?”

Heather woke from her dazed state of hating on Daryl and looked back up at Cris. “What?”

She nodded, her voice shaky as she said: “Uh, yea. Merle was here, yabbin’ about, searchin’ for Daryl. He fuckin’ punched someone?! Ya believe that? Knocked Miles out, left him to bleed back inside in the kitchen. If Jess hadn’t shown up, I dunno whata’ happened.”

An uncomfortable shiver ran down Heather’s spine as it all started to make sense now; the yelling from the house, the motorcycle, Daryl running away from her… She swallowed down hard.

“So, where’s he now?” Heather asked with big eyes.

Cris shrugged her shoulders, saying: “Prob’ly somewhere with his jackass of a brother. I tell ya, next time I see him? Imma give him a taste of my knuckles, see if he like’em.”

Cris was breathing hard, her lips formed into a tight line and both her fists were clenched. Heather tried to soothe her by putting a gently hand on her shoulder. Cris’ eyes met with hers and Heather noticed they were getting a bit red, something wet sparkling at the corners.

She continued in her babbling stage of rage and despair: “And Daryl? That jerk, he just stared at’em like the blank idiot he fuckin’ is. Didn’t do or say nothin’, he just let Merle fuckin’ hit Miles. They’re friends, Heather?! But he’s too much of a pussy to do anythin’ ‘bout it.” She snorted and spat on the grass below the porch.

Something clinched a little on the inside of Heather’s chest. She didn’t like to hear Cris talk like that. Especially not about him…

“And then,” Cris continued, her words still heated and rushed, “Ha! Even though I fuckin’ hate Merle, I loved him for doin’ that to him.” Her knuckles burned white because of Cris clenching her fists so tight.

“To who?” Heather asked in a high-pitched voice.

Cris rolled her eyes: “Daryl, ‘course. Merle grabbed him by the neck like the little bitch he is, dragged him the hell outta here. Prob’ly gonna get himself some more of them bruises he always has on his arms. ‘Specially if his dad finds out.”

Heather’s eyes widened. Oh no…