AN: New story on a new account. It is very short. Please let me know what you think, next chapter with be up shortly.

Something had been on Andreas mind, Daryl could tell. She had insisted on coming out with him into the woods to look for Sohpia, the look on her face had been questioning whenever he caught her looking at him. And he caught her a lot.

"Well?" he asked, walking forward, without looking at her. "I know you got somethin' ta' say."

Without beating around the bush, she asked, "Who's Charlotte?" Daryl stopped dead in his tracks, causing her to almost run into him. He turned around, eyes narrowing. Why it made him angry, he couldn't explain, but hearing Andrea say the name made his hair stand up. Maybe it was because he didn't want to reminder. While he pondered this, she looked up at him wide eyed. "That's the name tattooed on you, right? On you chest. I saw it when you were buttoning your shirt yesterday."

He scoffed, turning away. "You checking me out, pervert?" Andrea followed after him. He knew she was rolling his eyes. She knew damn well he'd shut down as soon as she tried to get into his personal life.

"You don't get someones name on you for no reason. Who is she?"

She had long orange tinted red hair, dark blue eyes, and freckles scattered on her cheekbones. She was short and skinny. She was mouthy, and picked a fight with everyone but the neighborhood boys could take her down every time. But she was nice to Daryl, and that was good enough for him.

They'd have adventures by the river, in the woods. He showed her the fireflies in a jar and told her the fireflies were married. They counted the stars, and would search for the shooting stars. Charlotte told him she wanted to see Haillies Commet and he promised one day she would. They practiced holding hands. She was Daryls best friend. He told her about mommy and daddy fighting and yelling, she told him about all the men her mom brought home. But after one break up with her mom she was gone, Daryl never said goodbye.

When Daryl turned 18, he was a different boy from the 11 year old who lost his best friend. Especially after his mom died, he got quiet, and Merle had showed him what a man was, how they didn't show their feelings because that was gay. He dropped out of school, got a GED. He was working in Merle's garage when a red head walked in. She had dark blue eyes, freckles scattered on her cheekbones. Daryl was frozen, staring at her. And she was staring at him.

"Well got-DAMN." Boomed Merle. "Call me a son-bitch but is that little Charlotte Anderson standing in MY garage?" Neither said anything, just stared at each other. Why she had an effect on him Daryl had no idea. But his hardened heart was yearning to grab her hand like when they were kids. But he wouldn't because that was gay. He waited for her to say something, but she looked at him, with an unreadable expression she had since a kid.

When they did talk, she said "Well, shit." Merle talked to her, but Daryl didn't say anything at first. He watched them talk. She was taller, obviously, but had defined curves now, she had big, round eyes. It was his childhood best friend, all grown up. She was drinking an iced coffee, straw in at the corner of her mouth as she bit the straw. She kept glancing at him, staring at him with those expressionless eyes.

Somehow, he said something to her. They left the garage, she talked about moving up north, ("There's snow up there"). She was a sophomore in high school but she would be finishing her school up her junior year in an ALC program(she skipped classes a lot). Her mom still used and went through men. She went to parties that got busted, hung out with upper classman. Daryl had walls now, all he said was how his mom died, and how he dropped out of school. He was a different person, she was the same wild girl he knew when he was little. He wasn't that nice to her.

But day after day she would come back, trying to get him to open up. It took months for him to consider them friends, even though he cared about her. He wouldn't admit it, but he cared for her.

Charlotte was in her junior year, Daryl was still working in the garage. A couple of high school boys were in the shop while a friends car was being fixed. Daryl listened as Charlotte's name came up, and the latest scandal with her 'boyfriend'(whatever she called him) Quinton. Daryl knew Quinton, he was the same age. Daryl learned from their conversation that Quinton "hit it and quit it" with Charlotte("She was a virgin, do you believe it? No, Quinton swears she was!")

Daryl left the garage and her and Merle drove around town until they found Quinton. He was outside smoking with a friend and words were exchanged(Not a lot of words. "Did you fuck Charlotte?" "So what if I did?") until a punch was thrown from Daryl. They wrestled around, Quinton had no idea how to fight back but he tried. Someone threatened to call the cops and two men tore them apart. Daryl stormed off to his truck and left.

Merle went back home and Daryl drove to Charlotte's house and he found her in her room, under the covers. He climbed in with her and assured her to not worry, news would spread that any man that fucked with her again would get the wrath of the Dixon brothers.

When Charlotte was eighteen, Daryl still didn't open up or let any walls down but him and Charlotte had an unexplainable bond where they cared and took care of one another, without ever admitting it of course.

The Dixons had a bon fire, people got drunk. Boys fed Charlotte drinks. She got more and more drunk. Daryl sat there and watched. It took one of them grabbing her hips and grinding into her for Daryl to lose it. He strided across the lawn and punched the kid out. Charlotte was drunk and confused, trying to yell at Daryl but was too dizzy to make a good point. He stormed off. The next day they yelled at each other.

"You can't just do what you did last night and say you don't care the next day!" she shouted. "Do you have any idea how confusing this is for me?"

"I don't give a fuck!" he yelled back, shutting himself down. Shutting her out all over again.

"Apparently you do!" she pushed him. As hard as she could. He didn't care. He wanted her to yell at him, to hit him. He wanted her to be mad at him. "You know what I think?"

"This should be good." He scoffed.

"I think you like me."

"You're fucking fool of yourself."

"Then why did you punch him!"

"Because I fucking could!"

"You don't make a bit of fucking sense!"

"Well FUCK YOU."

They went a month without talking. For the first time in a long time, it was raining. Hard. Daryl was driving through town when he saw her walking down the street. He pulled up next to her. "Why ya' walkin'?

"Locked out of my car." She said shortly.

"Come on, I'll give ya' a ride."

"Fuck you." She snapped.

"Are ya' kiddin?" he asked.

She kept walking. "Nope."

He pulled over, jumped out of the car and jogged up to her, getting soaked. "Get yer ass in the car." She ignored him and kept walking. He grabbed her elbow and yanked her toward him. She looked him in the eye violently. If looks could kill.

"If you forgot, you and I are NOT on good terms." Her voice was cold. "So fuck off."

"Sorry I care more about ya' than ya' think." He blurted out.

"You were supposed to be my friend." She had hurt written all over her behind the anger.

"Sometimes its hard being friends." He left her to decide what that meant. No way in hell would he say it outloud. "Now get in the car and quit being a bitch." But then they were making out before he realized she had him pushed against his truck. He flipped them around and leaned into her. It was hot, heated, a big relief. Then she was pushing him away, they breathed heavily.

Charlotte walked around his truck and opened the door. "Don't call me a bitch ever again."

He opened the driver door. "Yes ma'am."

They were unofficial. They never opened up, Daryl didn't want to look gay and for all he knew she didn't feel the same. She came and went. He let her. She was a wild spirit he couldn't hold onto if he tried. So he let her do that thing.

When she was gone, he never tried to fill the void with another girl. She's call from hear and there, Daryl would slip, only a little("Are you with other guys?" "No, Daryl.") but that's as much as he would slip. If their feelings got too much to handle, they would have sex (and damn, it was good sex). But he would miss her when she was gone doing god knows what. He didn't know where he stood with her. What he was to her. If he should care if she was with other men or not.

One night, at midnight she showed up at his apartment. He blew up at her. All of his questions came out, his insecurities. She let him explode, he talked, and talked, and talked. "What am I to you even?" he ended with, breathing heavily.

"My boyfriend." She said, walking across the living room and grabbing his hand. He held in any emotion and kissed her gently.

"Good." He kissed her. "You're mine then."