Norman shares coffee with Andy
Lauren Cohan and Norman Reedus at the Playboy and A&E “Bates Motel” Event During Comic-Con
Tale ‘Pyromania’ [anon request]
"Say what you gotta say already. Ain’t got all day." Daryl spoke in his typical charming Dixon manner, scowling at her as he did.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” She stated. His absence around her tent had been noted. At first, she had been angry with him for ignoring her, but after five days that anger had quickly been replaced by concern for her dear friend. She expected other people to get the silent treatment, but not her. Especially since she had not given him any reason to stay away from her. And she knew for certain he wanted to talk to her as she felt his eyes on her everywhere she went.
He huffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. Ain’t you got shit to do? Or ya just gonna stare at my ass all day?”
Despite his lack of mannerism, she giggled. “Well, it ain’t the ugliest sight.”
His brows furrowed in confusion when hearing her flirt with him. He searched her eyes for something, though he was not sure what exactly he was looking for. He was taken by complete surprise when all of the sudden, she took his hand in hers and guided him to the wooden log at the fire. Too dumbfound to protest, Daryl said nothing when she pushed him down onto the log.
Sitting right in front of him, her curious fingers began an adventurous journey on his arms. ”Ya shouldn’t say stuff like that to me.” His words brought a stop to her explorations. Her hands rested on her lap.
“Why not? Am I getting too close?” She asked, still smiling. She was pleasantly surprised he hadn’t flinched from her touch yet. Feeling quite the daredevil that day, her hands continued their explorations on his shirt before settling on his knees. She leaned in closer until their lips were but mere inches apart from his.
“You don’t wanna do that…” The Hunter slightly turned away from her and said nothing more.
"And why’s that?" Her fingers experimentally trailed up Daryl’s neck, soothingly caressing the longer skin at the back of his head. "You don’t like it when I do that?"
"Nah… It aint that…" She swore she saw him blush. "You’re playing with fire, girl."
He could easily push her away or pull her closer. Still indecisive about either options, his knuckles coloured white due to how strongly he gripped the log underneath him.
"That’s okay. Deep down, I’ve always known I was a bit of pyromaniac." The corniness of her statement was enough to break the tenseness between them. A half-smile tugged at his lips just when an irresistible force pulled him closer to her waiting lips for a burning kiss.
[Original post came from Bethyling]
Red can symbolize anything from blood, to love, to infatuation.