Just some drabbles from Tumblr. They have no meaning, no plot line. Enjoy!

She couldn't handle her liquor, that was for sure. Daryl had watched Carol take a slug out of the glass bottle sloppily, coughing as the bitter liquid hit her throat. She couldn't have had more than three or four shots of the stuff and he could already see her eyes glassing over, fingers fumbling over the bottle neck as she pushed it back into his grasp.

"Slow down, slugger." He gave her a nudge, laughing as she gave him a look of mock disdain. "Ain't no goddamn race. And ain't lookin' out for ya when ya chuckin' ya guts up in the mornin."

"Shut up." Carol grinned and tugged her cardigan tighter around herself. "Never drunk this stuff before."

He could feel the alcohol warming him up, from his chest right down to the tips of his toes. He still had his wits about him, could never afford to get completely fucked up nowadays, but it was doing the job of taking the edge off of crappiness that was was their existence. Cold, harsh Georgian winters, a never-full belly and the constant threat of having his throat ripped out by flesh-eaters.

"Don't tell me, nothin' but the finest French wine for Carol Peletier, or some shit." He scoffed at her and Carol burst into peals of laughter, the sound as clear as a bell through the silence of the night. "Sssh." He threw a hand out over her mouth, cutting her dead. "Don't need a fuckin' tellin' off from the Sheriff."

Carol nodded under his hand and he let go slowly, as if testing her out. "I don't know who you seem to think I used to be, Daryl Dixon." She whispered. "But high-class, I was not."

He very much doubted that. And clearly it was written all over his face, judging by the narrowing of her eyes. Carol may not have been royalty, but there was no way in hell she had ever been the white trash that he was.

She nodded at him again, as if to reaffirm her words. Her eyes had gone as wide as saucers. He always noticed them. Big and blue. Crystal clear. Well, a little fuzzy after a drink, but still pretty.

Pretty? What the hell? He needed to wind that shit down. Fuck, he was turning into a total pussy. He took another swig from the bottle.

"I never was nothing special." She muttered softly, looking up at the stars. The sky was clear. The lights were so bright now there wasn't electricity down on the ground to dull them. Carol pulled the bottle from his hands and brought it to her lips, sipping slowly this time.

"Cut that shit out." The words fell from his lips without his consent. "You've always been special."

Fuck. What in fucking God's name was that about?

The bottle froze at her mouth. She turned her head to face him, slowly. Like she hadn't heard the words. Damn, he wish she hadn't heard his words.

He wasn't drinking again. He was a stupid, sloppy drunk.

Her mouth curved into a smile. She placed the bottle on the ground between them and instead of taking her hand back, it crept over into his space, finding it's way to his bent knee.

She had no words for him and now, he had none for her. Nothing that could take it back. Wasn't sure that he wanted to, not with that smile and those big blue eyes.

He really was a fucking pussy.