Simple Man

Daryl pulled up to his home on his Triumph, using his feet to push himself along once he got close enough. He didn’t have to wonder if his woman was home or not, based from the music pumping inside the house, he knew she was. Flashes of her dancing barefoot through the house crossed his mind’s eye, and he hurriedly shut the bike then swinging his long leg over the bike and striding up the few steps.

Swinging the door open, he was met a wall of music, and recognized it as Shinedown almost instantly. He stopped for a moment, swiping his hand over his scruff and letting his ears adjust so that he could find out where she was at. Smiling, he headed for the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh, take your time, don’t live too fast.” She sang, effortlessly as she moved through the kitchen,
“Troubles will come…and they will pass.” He could see that she was starting something for their dinner, and with the music being so loud, hadn’t even heard him come in. “You’ll find a woman, and you’ll find love.” A smile curled his lips at that, he had a mind for a moment to walk over then drop the kiss that he always gave her, on her plump lips. But that would mean that she would know he was there, and would stop singing.

Daryl crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring how tired they were from moving engines all day at the shop. His skin tightened over his muscles, and Daryl wasn’t even aware of how much grease he actually had on him from the day. His blue eyes swept over his woman’s form, taking in and appreciating all of the curves that she had to her body. Catching sight of the tattoo that was peeking out of her shirt in the back, he grinned wickedly as he thought about the night before, and how he’d traced the black ink with his tongue.

“And be a simple kind of man! Oh, be something you love and understand. Baby, be a simple kind of man. Oh, won’t you do this for me son, if you can?”

There was a break in the song, and he watched as she swayed her hips back and forth in front of the stove, her dainty, tattooed, right foot tapping to the beat that Daryl couldn’t quite catch. His thumb found his mouth, and chewed on the skin to the side.

“Forget your lust, for rich man’s gold. All that you need now is in your soul. And you can do this, oh baby, if you try. All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied.” Daryl never ceased to be amazed by the way that his woman could belt out a song. Hitting the highest and hardest notes seemingly without any effort at all.

He snorted quietly to himself when he thought of the first night they met.

She’d been new to town and the talk of it too. Everyone was talking about the “Yankee” that was singing on Friday nights at Bart’s. Curiosity getting the best of him, he’d decided to go up there and see what all of the ruckus was about.

Daryl Dixon hardly believed in love, let alone love at first sight. Until he laid eyes on Rhyleigh Harper.

He felt a shock go through his system when her eyes, the color of Jack Daniels, met his through crowd as she crooned a song about two black Cadillac’s. The people in town had every right to be talking, she sang effortlessly. Daryl sat at the bar, nursing a beer through his set, trying not to look as interested as he really was.

His brain scrambling to figure out a way to talk to her without passing out, and looking like a smuck, like Merle did. His heart started to pound when her set ended and she thanked everyone before heading off of the small stage. She was making her way straight for him, and she flashed him a smile as she came up next to him at the bar. Daryl felt like he could fall off of his stool if someone did something as measly as sneezed too close to him; his heart was pounding so hard. She leaned over the bar to talk to Bart, and Daryl nearly groaned at the slice of skin that peeked out from under her leather jacket.

“Thanks Bart!” She grinned, knocking her knuckles against the bar top before slipping back down onto her feet and heading for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night!”

“Shit.” Daryl cursed to himself, throwing back the rest of his beer before slipping off of the stool and headed out into the dark after her. His long legs made it easy to catch up with her and without thinking; he reached out to snag her wrist and muttered,

“Hey Yankee.”

She gasped, whirling around and letting her left hook fly. Thankfully Daryl, even with a few beers in him, was faster than she was. He caught her first in his large palm with a growl. She struggled against him, booted foot flying up and nearly catching him in the crotch.

“Sweet Christ, woman!” Daryl growled, narrowing his baby blues at her, their faces a scant few inches apart “I ain’t try’na hurt ya! Calm down.”

“Well, Rebel, the last person to call me a Yankee wasn’t so nice.” She muttered through clenched teeth as she struggled futility against him, much to her dismay. Her whiskey colored orbs meeting his as she thought about how much it would hurt her to head butt him.

“Aw Christ.” He muttered and dropped her hands instantly; taking three big steps back as he ran his thick fingers through his hair. “Gone ‘n done it now, boy.” He let out a long sigh, “S’rry ‘bout that. Have a good night.” With a curt nod, he turned to walk away.

“Now, Rebel, just hold on there a second I didn’t tell you to walk away, did I? You just caught me by surprise is all.” She called, intrigued by him, as she crossed her arms over her chest. Smiling at him when he whirled around with an expression of pure shock painting his features.

The rest was history, and it hadn’t been easy history to write. It’d be a very long and hard road for both of them. That much they could tell you. Hell, Daryl still found himself where he was at the start of their relationship at times. But, Rhyleigh had stood by his side through the whole thing, never once threatening to walk away, no matter how many times he threw it in her face that it would just be easier for both of them…that as ‘fucked up as he was’ there was no hope for him, or them.

Although her temper did get the best of her at times, and they’d both smashed some shit. None of that mattered when he’d wake from his nightmares; she’d be there, soothing him back to sleep. She pretended not to notice the flinches that happened when she wrapped her arms around him, or kissed his cheek, in the beginning. She never questioned when he didn’t remove his wife beater on the hottest day of Georgia heat when he’d been helping her fix up her place. She let him come to her on his own time, and his own terms.

To keep a long story short, Daryl believed he found Rhyleigh by the Grace of God.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he realized that the music had stopped, pulling the thumb he had been chewing on from his lips, Daryl chuckled when he looked down the good few inches between them and saw her standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“Have you been standing there long, Rebel?” She laughed, eyes crinkling around the corners.

“Long ‘nough, Whiskey.” He murmured, unfurling his arms from his chest and reaching out for her, smiling when she stepped up onto the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his.

“Smells good.” Daryl muttered after their kiss as he bent over and untied his boots.

“Thanks, beef stroganoff is on the menu tonight.”

“M’starved.” Daryl grunted, standing to his full height and kicking the boots off, being sure to tuck them into the closet so that he or Rhyleigh didn’t trip over them. Shuffling to the fridge, he grabbed a beer and collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. Feeling her run her fingers through his hair as she passed him, he couldn’t stop the smile from curling his lips again.

“Won’t be too much longer now, don’t eat the table.” She teased, stirring the noodles into the boiling water. Peeking at him over her shoulder, she saw that his head was dropped back and his fingers were slipping from around the amber bottle he held. “C’mon now, Daryl, at least get something into your belly before you pass out on me. I mean, especially since you forgot your lunch this morning, Dixon.”

“M’sorry.” He grumbled, sitting up and pulling his cigarettes from his pocket to light one.

“You don’t have to be sorry; I just want you to get some food in you and a shower. I washed the sheets today, and I won’t have you staining these ones up!” She scolded playfully, shaking her spatula at him. He hiked an eyebrow at her, and shook his head before taking a swig of his beer. She plucked his cigarette from him and took a drag, holding it out for him to take back, and feeling her heart swell when he kissed her fingertips before taking it between his lips and letting it hang from the corner of his mouth.

After their dinner, Rhyleigh cleared the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher that Daryl had installed for her last Christmas. Watching as Daryl made his way towards the bathroom, she grinned.
Following him, she slipped into the bathroom behind him and pulled her shirt over her head, happy she had foregone a bra that day, before shimmying out of her shorts. Clad then in only her panties. Daryl jumped about five feet into the air when her hands found his belt buckle.

“Wha’dya think you’re doin’ woman?” He muttered, although he didn’t try to push her hands away, knowing he’d get slapped.

“I just thought I’d help you out tonight, Rebel.” She told him, smiling against his shoulder when she felt his belt loosen moments before she was pulling it free from the loops. “How about a bath tonight?”

“S’fine with me.” Daryl muttered, with a small snort. Before Rhyleigh, you wouldn’t have caught Daryl Dixon dead in the bath. Feeling her hands work their way under his shirt, Daryl lifted his arms so that she could pull it up and over his head after he turned on the water and plugged the drain. The rough and tumble man had gotten to where he only winced a bit when her lips found the scars that crisscrossed along his entire back. He had actually grown to like when she would run her fingernails over the rough skin when they lay together in bed at night.

“I love you, Daryl.”

“You, too, Whiskey.” He murmured, finding her dainty hands and turning them over, so that he could place kisses against her fingers, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin on her wrists. Daryl Dixon wasn’t one to say the words often, but he showed her how much he loved her every single day. Pulling her around so that she was facing him, he groaned when he saw that she was in only her panties.

“Sweet Christ, woman.” His broad hands found her cheeks, and he cupped them before lowering his mouth to hers. He kissed her softly, gentle pecks against her lips as she pushed his pants and briefs down his legs. His mouth followed hers as she stepped back into the tub, and then they sank down into the water. Normally, Daryl would cradle Rhyleigh against him, but the tables had turn and it was Rhyleigh holding Daryl against her in the steaming water. Hearing his groan of appreciation, she dipped her hand into the water and let it run off of her fingers and down his shoulders.

After letting him relax for a little while, both of his arms hooked over her knees and splayed out over the side of the claw footed tub. Rhyleigh grabbed the washcloth and Daryl’s body wash, letting some ooze out onto the cloth before rubbing it together to get it sudsy. She washed him down, getting rid of as much dirt and oil as she could. She even washed his hair, running her fingers against his scalp the way that she knew he enjoyed. The man was like putty in her hands.

“Need’a cigarette after that,” He almost growled, his voice having that roughened edge that made Rhyleigh shiver. “that’s almost better than sex.”

“Almost, huh?” She giggled, wringing out the washcloth as Daryl sat up and grabbed their towels, helping Rhyleigh to her feet and out of the tub before wrapping the fluffy towel around her. Hitching
his own around his waist, Daryl pulled the plug, and took her hand before heading for their bedroom. They both headed for their dressers to pull out comfy clothes. It was starting to cool off at night, so Daryl pulled out a pair of sleep pants that rode low on his hips and a wife beater on the off chance that someone decided to stop by.

Rhyleigh had pulled on a pair of sleep pants as well, along with one of Daryl’s oversized shirts that he had worn down to almost nothing, but she wouldn’t let him throw out. Shuffling out of the bedroom, she headed to grab her cigarettes and then step out on the porch. Sinking down into one of the longue chairs that they’d purchased, she tilted her head back when she heard the screen door slide open. Daryl stepped out, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head as he passed her and collapsed into the chair next to hers.

Lighting her cigarette, she let her eyes roam over their backyard and woods that surrounded them. Knowing before too long that he’d be bow season and Daryl would be out there in the wee hours of the morning until it was dark, trying to get game to fill their freezer for the winter. She felt his hand, which was cigarette free; sneak over to her thigh, his strong fingers spreading out over her warm flesh. She reached down and twined their fingers together, bringing their hands up and kissing the back of his hand before settling them back down on her thigh.

They weren’t a couple that had to fill the silence all of the time, but it was their little gestures that
made Rhyleigh content with that. The way Daryl would run his knuckles along her cheek as he passed her, or the way that he’d look at her while she was concentrated on something. The small, real, smiles that were reserved for her and her alone, or the way that he would reach for her and tuck her into his side at night. They didn’t need words, at this point; they knew everything that they needed to know just from gestures.

Finishing off their cigarettes, they headed into the house. Rhyleigh made a b-line for the bedroom while Daryl made a round through the house, making sure that all of the doors were locked. Once satisfied, he shuffled into their room and pulled his wife beater over his head. Flipping off the light, he crawled into the bed next to Rhyleigh, fishing his arm under her shoulders and pulling her into his side, letting her tangle her legs with his, even though her cold toes always caused him to suck in a sharp breath.

“Christ Almighty, is there ever a fuckin’ nigh’ that your toes ain’t freezin’?” He muttered, a smile tugging at his thin lips when he heard her scoff.

Her hand rested on his chest, her fingers tracing the tattoo that was placed on his left peck. Feeling his fingers tangle into her thick locks, she tilted her head up to receive the kiss that she knew was coming. Letting her fingers dance over his skin, she let out a content sigh as she nestled her head against the crook of his shoulder.

“I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

“Always.” Daryl whispered back, sleep winning the fight as his eyes slipped closed. Rhyleigh jumped a little bit as his body jerked, signaling that he was asleep. She giggled softly to herself, always caught off guard by it, and remembering how she’d sat up the first night that she’d stayed with him, and watched to make sure he was still breathing. Letting her fingers roam over his skin still, she let her mind wander, hoping to find sleep soon.

Rhyleigh found she was still awake hours after Daryl had fallen asleep. Not being able to just lay there anymore and listen to him snore, she slipped out of the bed as quickly and quietly as she could. Grabbing Daryl’s leather jacket off of the chair in the bedroom, she slipped her arms into it and headed for the back porch after snagging her cigarettes.

Sure, they lived a simple live, they didn’t have a fancy car or a home the size of Texas. Daryl’s truck and the cabin that he’d built by hand for them worked just fine. Rhyleigh was happy, and she knew
Daryl was happy as well. He was a simple man, and had shown her all of the happiness that you could get out of the smaller things in life. Daryl never took anything for granted, and that’s one of the many things that Rhyleigh adored about him. He was rough around the edges that much was apparent, but he was also the type of man that would give you the shirt from his back, or pay for a meal if he knew you hadn’t eaten all day.

Exhaling the smoke she’d been holding, Rhyleigh shook her head. She would never know how she got so lucky, but she was sure as hell thankful that she’d been blessed enough to have this man walk into her life. She sat on the porch, smoking for she didn’t know how long. But the dark haired woman, nearly jumped out of her skin with a small shriek when Daryl appeared beside her, fisting sleep out of his eyes.

“Damn you, and your hunters stride, Daryl Dixon!”

“What’dya think you’re doin’ out here, Whiskey?” He muttered his sleep filled voice making goose bumps beak out on her skin.

“I couldn’t sleep, and didn’t want to wake you.”

“Shit, you not bein’ there woke me up faster than ya staying there and movin’ like there’s no tomorr’a.”

He reached for her hand, loving the way that his leather jacket draped over her curvy frame. She put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. Pulling her gently along behind him back to the bedroom, after locking the sliding door, Daryl stopped when they reached the doorway and pushed his leather from her shoulders. Letting it drop to the ground, tilting her head up and taking her lips in a soft and smooth kiss. Pulling her down onto the bed with him, not letting her lips leave his as he covered her body with his own, and holding the brunt of his weight up on his forearms.

“Christ, now your toes are even colder than they were before, woman.” He grunted against her lips, “Haven’t ya eva heard of wearin’ some fuckin’ socks?”

He heard her giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he reached down with one hand to bring the covers up around their bodies. Cupping the back of her head as their mouths meshed together, he let his fingers get tangled up in her hair. His hips grinding down against her own on their own accord, making a soft sound slip through Rhyleigh’s lips that had him gripping the sheets in his free hand.

“I thought we were supposed to be going to sleep, and if you get me all riled up you’re not going to be getting any sleep tonight as you have to be up…” Rhyleigh paused to look at the clock, “in about four hours.”

“Fuck.” Daryl grunted, his mouth on her collarbone, nipping and making the woman beneath him shiver as his scruff scratched against her skin, surely leaving beard burn on her tan skin. “Yeah, you’re right.” Kissing the skin he’d just marked, Daryl dropped kisses all over her skin and worked his way up to her lips. “You’d best be goin’ to sleep woman, no more funny business.” His voice was serious, but he was grinding against her all the while, relishing in the sound that left his woman, much like the first time it’d slipped from her lips.

“Funny business?” She groaned, fingers finding his hair and tugging. “This is all you.”

Daryl’s eyes rolled into the back of his head when her teeth found his sweet spot. “Fuck.” He muttered again, “A’right, a’right, I get the point. Shit.” Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and rolled to the side, bringing her with him and making sure to leave enough room that he could thread his fingers through her hair, knowing that always soothed her when she was having a rough night.

He felt her relax against him, wrapping one arm around his waist and tangling her legs with his once more. Her lips ghosted over his chest, and he dropped a kiss against her hairline in return. He let out a sigh, his eyes falling shut once more. This time, they both fell into slumber, wrapped up in the one person they loved more than life itself.

Simple man, simple woman, simple life…but one they wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.