Chapter Text
It all started with a drunken message.
His thumb just kinda… slipped. He was in a reckless state of mind. He’d momentarily forgotten how Instagram worked.
That’s what he told himself.
But in reality, he was pissed and full of resentment after another stupid fight with his girlfriend. He was drunk on whiskey and beer, because he’d decided to stay at the bar and keep drinking after she’d made a big scene and stormed out.
And hell, he was a little horny on top of all that. Yeah, he’d pretty much been expecting to get laid—that was a predictable ending to another night at the bar with his girl. It’s what they always did on Saturday nights.
So he had blue balls, too. In a sense.
Despite all of that, he would never admit to himself why he’d really sent that damn message. Because that would mean admitting that he had a thing for Beth Greene.
Nah, he didn’t see her that way—he’d never see her that way. Wasn’t possible. When he first met her, she was just a dumb little teenager. Now she was just a dumb little college chick. There wasn’t anything different about her, though.
So why was he suddenly starting to think of her in that way? Was he a pervert?
Maybe. Or maybe he was just feeling reckless.
What’s life without a little risk, anyhow?
Daryl sat in the rickety old chair on his front porch, sipping a beer and chain-smoking. Dog was lying a few feet away, head rested on his paws and eyes shut. Andrea still hadn’t called or texted back since she’d angrily sped away from the bar. Daryl couldn’t even remember what he’d said to start this fight in the first place, but he wasn’t in the mood to dwell on it. Her tantrums had become exhausting and he could only hope she’d cool down and call him in the morning.
Until then, he had nothing but his phone, Dog, and the lightning bugs to keep him company. Which was fine—he never minded being alone. But he was feeling restless, and more than a little agitated at the thought of jerking himself off once again and passing out. It was just one of those nights where he was in the mood for some female companionship.
He wanted to get his mind off it, though. So he smoked his cigarettes and drank his beer and scrolled through social media on his phone. Not that he had a whole hell of a lot of friends to be checking up on, but it was something to keep him busy until he was tired enough to lay down.
When he opened up Instagram and began to mindlessly scroll through, he noticed Beth had recently posted something to her Story. He tapped the little circle on his screen, expecting a video of baby Judith or a photo of something on the Greene Farm, as was the usual. Instead, he was met with a filtered photo of Beth—just Beth.
A whole fuckin’ lotta Beth, actually. More than Daryl had ever seen before. And in a very new light.
It was innocent enough: nothing more than a black-and-white mirror selfie in her bedroom. She was sporting a new bikini, long blonde hair pulled back in a bun, sunglasses on her face and phone in hand. There was a mischievous smirk on her lips. The caption in the corner read: time for a visit to my favorite swimming hole!
But all Daryl could think was, Since when does Beth have hips? And legs for days? Where did those pert little tits come from? Why does her neck and her tummy and her thighs look so goddamn… delicious?
The photo disappeared and he quickly tapped to open it back up, letting his eyes linger over every detail. Christ, why was all the blood rushing to his dick right now? The Story ended once again and he had to tap and open it up a third time. But instead of staring at Beth’s skimpily-clad body, he tapped down on the comment bar with his thumb.
Before he could stop himself or give it a second thought, he typed out, “Damn girl” and hit Send. A little bubble popped up and declared, message sent!
Oh yeah—comments on Stories were actually Direct Messages. Well… too late now.
He shook his head and blinked, taking a long sip of beer and tapping on Beth’s story once more. He took in the image one last time and then moved on to the next Story, trying to distract himself.
Even in his state of inebriation, making a comment like that on social media felt like something a pervert would do. He could only hope Beth would “like” the message and forget about it. The last thing Daryl needed was for her to go telling her daddy or her sister that Daryl Dixon was trying to slide into her DMs.
He tapped through the next few Stories—Rick’s and Carol’s and Ezekiel’s and Eugene’s and Tara’s, photos of baby Judith and teenager Carl playing together, Sophia at the swimming pool, Carol and Ezekiel lounging in the sun, whatever new video game Eugene was currently geeking out over, Tara dressed in her police uniform and cheesing in the mirror. Then Beth showed up again. She was in that damn bikini, but she wasn’t the one taking the photo; she was standing at the edge of a pond with her friend, Amy, all smiles and sunglasses and sun-kissed skin.
Oh yeah, he’d forgotten that Beth was friends with Andrea’s little sister. Shit. He really shouldn’t have let his fingers type out that damn comment.
But was he really so wrong for being unable to tear his eyes away from the image of Beth in a bikini? Amy may as well have been part of the background, because all he could see was Beth. The soft curve of her neck, the little mole between her breasts, the slight indentions just above her bikini bottom—like two discreet arrows pointing downward…
The photo disappeared and the rest of Amy’s Story played. He tapped through a looping selfie of Amy in the sun and a filtered photo of the pond’s rippled surface. The last picture to pop up was Beth sitting in the back of a truck, skin glistening with water and a towel wrapped around her shoulders, with a guy sitting close at her side and planting a kiss on her cheek. He had messy dark hair and looked to be around the same age as her.
Of course she had a boyfriend.
She probably had a whole slew of boyfriends, Daryl reckoned, if she was walking around looking like that all the time.
He realized Amy had tagged Beth’s boyfriend in the photo, so he tapped on the screenname out of curiosity and took a brief visit to Zach’s Instagram page. According to Zach’s bio, he went to the same college as Beth, he was 23, and he was a “Leo”—whatever that meant. Daryl quickly grew disinterested and went back to watching other people’s Stories.
But a few seconds later, he found himself on Beth’s page. Her bio was a string of emojis that he didn’t really understand. He scrolled down, gazing at all of her photos with an odd sense of intrigue. Zach was in a few of them, but it was mostly just her. She posted a lot of pictures of pianos and guitars and notebooks full of writing, as well as flowers and random scenery from around the Greene Farm. There were pictures of her family and her friends, Hershel and Shawn and Maggie and Glenn and Amy and a dozen other faces that Daryl didn’t recognize, as well as tons of snapshots from around her college campus. And, as was typical for any girl her age, there was also a fair amount of selfies.
Daryl unabashedly tapped on each photo that contained Beth, scrutinizing them in a whole new way.
Holy shit, when did this happen? Beth Greene had grown up while he wasn’t looking. She’d always been cute—not in a jailbait kind of way, more in an all-American blonde kind of way.
But now she was… downright hot.
He almost felt bad for thinking that. Then a notification popped up.
greene.with.envy liked your reply to their Story!
Oh, crap. It was late. He hadn’t expected her to see the message until morning, when he’d be sober and more inclined to forget he’d ever sent it.
His heart skipped and he wasn’t going to open his messages at all. But then another notification popped up.
greene.with.envy: Lmao thanks, I think?
His thumbs were tapping out a response before he could so much as try to resist.
notthatdixon: Didn’t mean it in a bad way.
greene.with.envy: Well thank you then :)
notthatdixon: Does your dad know you post pics like that on the internet
greene.with.envy: Excuse me, sir. I’m grown. Lol
notthatdixon: Since when
Daryl took a swig of beer and realized his cigarette had burned out while he was ardently texting Beth back. His heart was hammering and he wasn’t sure why, but his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone and the tiny Typing… animation. He was anxious to read Beth’s reply for no good damn reason. He fumbled with his other hand to light a new cigarette.
Just as he inhaled a fresh drag of nicotine, her next messages popped up.
greene.with.envy: Idk since I’m 21 and moved out and going to college?? Lol when’s the last time you even saw me
greene.with.envy: Like 5 years ago or something? People change, Dixon. ;)
What the hell was with the winky emoji? Whatever. He took another drag off his cigarette and texted back.
notthatdixon: Something like that. You sure changed a lot.
greene.with.envy: Okay, creeper…
greene.with.envy: Jk ;) thanks for noticing lol
notthatdixon: Not a creeper. But you’re welcome.
greene.with.envy: Kind of a creeper… but that’s okay. Lmao
notthatdixon: Wtf how
greene.with.envy: Ummm it’s 2 am and you’re replying to my Story from this afternoon lol
greene.with.envy: And you just liked one of my selfies from 4 months ago… so…
Shit. Daryl rapidly exited his Direct Messages and went back to Beth’s page. Within seconds of backtracking, he realized he’d accidentally double-tapped one of her selfies while examining it. And of course, it was dated March 18th. It was too late to unlike the picture now. She’d already seen the notification.
He returned to their conversation and saw Typing… But he tapped out his own response before hers could be finished.
notthatdixon: Accident. Doesn’t make me a creeper.
notthatdixon: Was just seeing what you’ve been up to. I don’t get on here much.
The Seen status didn’t pop up and he began to think she’d put her phone down and gone to sleep. But then a new notification popped up. And another. And another right after.
greene.with.envy liked your photo.
greene.with.envy liked your photo.
greene.with.envy liked your photo.
Daryl blinked in surprise. He exited the conversation just long enough to check his Activity tab.
Beth had liked 3 different photos that he’d posted ages ago. He didn’t even have more than 100 posts on his page altogether. But when he clicked on the notifications, he saw that she’d gone through his photos and picked the only 3 pictures that could be considered “selfies.” One of them was him and Merle posing together—Daryl was shirtless, and they were both half-drunk. Another was him and Carl in front of a mirror in Rick’s house, goofing off together. And the last was a very inebriated snapshot of him and Rick during a night out on the town around New Year’s Eve.
He returned to their conversation just in time to see her next message arrive.
greene.with.envy: Didn’t mean it in a bad way.
greene.with.envy: ;)
What the—Jesus, was it the cigarettes making his blood pressure skyrocket right now? Or was he simply misinterpreting her messages and suggestive emoji usage?
notthatdixon: Now who’s the creeper?
greene.with.envy: You started it lol
notthatdixon: Can’t give you a compliment without being called a creep? My bad. Should I take it back
greene.with.envy: That’s not what I said lmao
greene.with.envy: You’ve changed a lot, too.
notthatdixon: Not really.
greene.with.envy: Lmfao
greene.with.envy: Don’t you have a gf?
notthatdixon: Yeah. So?
notthatdixon: Don’t you have a bf
For the briefest moment, Daryl wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Then he wondered where the hell this conversation was going. But before he could contemplate it any longer, he saw that Beth was Typing…
Her response popped up a second later.
greene.with.envy: Yeah. So…?
He couldn’t figure out why his cock was semi-hard and twitching beneath his pants, or why he couldn’t bear to peel his attention away from the phone in his hand. What the fuck was he doing? Why was he texting Beth Greene at two in the goddamn morning?
And why did it feel like flirting?
He tensed up awkwardly when he tapped Send on his response.
notthatdixon: Idk. You brought it up.
The message sat Seen for what felt like several long seconds. The Typing… animation didn’t show up and he quickly tried to compensate, unwilling to let the conversation end there.
notthatdixon: Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s past your bedtime.
To his pleasant surprise, she was typing again.
greene.with.envy: I don’t have a bedtime. I’m on summer vacation lol what’s your excuse?
notthatdixon: Don’t got one. Just can’t sleep.
The message was immediately Seen but she hadn’t begun typing back yet. His curiosity got the best of him.
notthatdixon: So you back home for the summer?
greene.with.envy: Insomnia? Or bad day?
greene.with.envy: Yeah. I’m staying on the farm until I go back next month.
notthatdixon: Been drinking. Good day. Shitty night. Oh well. Wbu?
notthatdixon: Oh okay. That’s cool. Bet your family’s glad to have you home.
greene.with.envy: That sucks, I’m sorry. So are you drunk? Lol
greene.with.envy: I’m just an insomniac haha and yeah they’re glad to have me back for a few months but I can’t wait to get back to school! I know it sounds bad but it’s just kinda boring out here lol
notthatdixon: Ha no. Not drunk. Why?
notthatdixon: And nah I get it. Not a lot to do out here, I bet that fancy college is a lot more fun
greene.with.envy: Just wondering lol
greene.with.envy: Fancy?? Lmao not even! But it’s a little more exciting than the farm for sure
Daryl hesitated, thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone, cigarette nearly burnt down to the butt. He took one last drag and tossed it out into the grass, then chased it with a sip of beer. He wasn’t quite sure what to say that would keep their conversation going, but he had some ideas.
He’d just begun typing out a response when she beat him to the punch.
greene.with.envy: Do you have Snapchat?
notthatdixon: Any college that has dorms is fancy in my book.
notthatdixon: Yeah but I barely use it. Why?
greene.with.envy: lol I guess you’re easy to impress then huh ;)
greene.with.envy: Add me on snap. blueandyellow98
Without question, he exited Instagram and browsed through his apps in search of Snapchat. Then he remembered that he’d deleted it ages ago because he never used it. So he quickly downloaded it and spent a few seconds struggling to remember his password. When he finally signed in, he navigated his way to the Add Friend feature. He typed in Beth’s username and a moment later, she’d accepted his request and added him back.
Her display name showed up on his very short list of chats as Beth, accompanied by a music note emoji and a sunflower emoji. Her Story popped up in his Feed and he opened it to find a couple of photos and one short video that were very similar to what had been posted on Instagram.
Then a notification popped up.
Beth sent you a chat!
He opened up their brand new Snapchat conversation and found her message.
Beth: Wanna see my cat?
Daryl froze, breath hitching in his chest. Did she mean…?
Before he could ask her to specify, she sent a photo. He tapped on it and watched as it filled his screen for ten whole seconds.
It was a Snap of a fat tabby cat lying curled up and sleeping atop a blanket-covered body shape with a caption that read: look at this sleepy asshole. Daryl examined the picture and smirked, taking in the details of Beth’s comforter and the low lighting in her bedroom.
Now he was imagining her lying in bed, half-naked beneath her blanket with her phone in hand while she messaged him from the darkness of her bedroom. He tried not to give it too much thought, though.
He tapped the Reply button and sent her a photo of Dog sleeping on the porch a few feet away. He added a caption that said, “here’s mine lol.”
Beth viewed the Snap and responded almost immediately.
Beth: Omg when did you get a dog?? He’s so cute!!!
Daryl: Lol about a year ago. He’s a handsome SOB ain’t he
Beth: Just like his owner ;)
Wait—what? Daryl blinked and reread their exchange. Then, dick twitching, he responded.
Daryl: You saying I look like a dog lol
Beth: That’s a reach lmao
Beth: Talk about not being able to take a compliment
She added an eye-rolling emoji and Daryl scoffed aloud. He took a swig of beer and contemplated a few different responses. Then he decided on one and typed it out.
Daryl: Idk why you would be complimenting me
Beth: You don’t have to play dumb, ya know lol
He froze, staring down at his phone with a look of bewilderment. What was he supposed to say to that?
Thankfully, he saw that she was Typing… again, so he decided to wait before trying to form a response.
Beth: You remember the last time we saw each other?
Daryl: Yeah. Last summer. When I drove by the farm and you were out riding horses by the road. We waved at each other.
Beth: Lmao no I mean the last time we actually spoke
Beth: But it’s cute that you remember that :) I forgot about it. You were on your brother’s bike and it spooked my horse! Lol
Daryl: Yeah my bad. But no I don’t remember the last time we talked in person. Sorry.
Beth: That’s okay. It was a while ago. I was still in high school. Remember I called you because my car broke down like 10 miles away from my house and nobody else would answer their phones?
He did remember that, actually. But damn, he didn’t think she would have. If he recalled correctly, she was still a junior in high school. It had been winter time because he remembered how she was shivering whenever he finally pulled up. And he’d leant her his coat while he jumpstarted the car. She’d hugged him tight and given him a kiss on the cheek.
That felt like a lifetime ago. She’d been all chubby cheeks, flat chest, ponytails, and dirty jeans. He’d gazed down at her cornflower blues and seen a naive teenaged girl, someone who probably looked at him like a dependable big brother.
Now she was “grown,” as she put it. And the hell if he’d dispute that fact. He could see the stark difference already, even if it was just Instagram photos and Snapchat videos.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at her the same again.
Daryl: Oh yeah, I remember that. Damn it really has been a long time
Beth: Lol it has! We should hang out sometime before I go back to school.
Beth: If you want.
Daryl swallowed hard. A rush of blood went straight down to his groin and he shifted uncomfortably. Maybe it would be for the best if he ended this conversation sooner rather than later.
Daryl: And do what
Beth: Idk. Catch up. Have a beer or something.
Beth: You can say no if it really sounds that awful lol I promise you won’t hurt my feelings.
Daryl: Wasn’t gonna say no
Daryl: Just don’t wanna piss off that bf you got
Beth: Why would he care…
Daryl: Idk
Daryl: You tell me
Beth: We could go swimming! That would be fun.
Daryl: I don’t swim.
Beth: Then I’ll swim and you can watch ;P
Daryl: Maybe
Beth: You can bring your gf if you want
Daryl: If it’s on the weekend I guess. She lives in the city.
Beth: Oh yeah I forgot Andrea lived in Atlanta lol
Beth: Well Zach is going back home for the rest of the summer tomorrow
Daryl: That sucks ?
Beth: It’s not so bad :) but we have church in the morning and then lunch before he leaves so I gotta get up early
Beth: Guess I should get some sleep lol
Daryl: Sounds like it
Shit. He was bad at this—like, really bad at this. But he honestly didn’t know what else to say. He’d never felt so damn awkward over a stupid social media conversation.
And he really didn’t want her to think he was some kind of pervert. He was almost certain that he was reading too deeply into signals that weren’t actually being sent. And what if Beth ended up telling Amy about this conversation?
He needed to put down the beer and go to bed.
Beth: Okay well, talk to you soon?
Beth: Just message me whenever you wanna make plans
Daryl: Sure thing. Night
Beth: Sleep tight :)
He kept staring down at the screen for several minutes after Beth’s online icon had disappeared. When he finally closed the app and set his phone down, he ended up picking it back up and going right back to reread their messages. Like maybe he could get a clearer idea of… whatever the hell that exchange had meant.
But when he opened it up, he found that it had disappeared. With a pang of disappointment, he remembered that—unlike Instagram DMs—Snapchat messages went away as soon as the app was closed.
Stupid fucking social media.
to be continued…