For this challenge, we had to go to Otherwordly and choose up to 5 different words to let us inspire for an art piece or short story. I wrote a story with four chapters each inspired by another word and created a title card with the last word I also used as title for my story. It felt so good to write for fun again. I hope to be creative in this direction more often now. The PhD is nearly done and I miss not science writing.
Title: Petrichor - the scent of rain on dry earth
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Pairing: Daryl Dixon & Carol Peletier
Summary: A bad storm is running over Georgia. Daryl and Carol have to stay overnight in a little cabin before they can ride home with their collected supplies. What will they do with the free time soaked and alone?
Word Count: 2300
Beta: gorengal took a look for me.
Warnings: Takes place not long after the end of season 3.
Chapter I: Brontide - the low rumble of distant thunder
Word Count: 552
The clear blue sky had turned to black within minutes and heavy gusts tousled their hair. Daryl was concerned they wouldn't reach the prison before the storm broke through the dark clouds. They had been very low on gas the last couple of weeks so Carol and he had taken the newfound bicycles for a short supply run to the next village pharmacy. They needed much more medicine now with all the elder Woodbury folks.
Daryl heard an angry thunder from the distant and felt first raindrops on his sleeveless arms. The two survivors left the beautiful chestnut alley behind and reached a glade on top of a hill only one mile behind Brooks. They were soaked within seconds. The protective prison was not far away but Georgia's thunderstorms were malicious. The earth was dry, not prepared for the heavy rain and mudflows were not rare. Plus they couldn't risk getting hit by a flash of lightning with the metal bikes under their butts.
Daryl looked over his shoulder to Carol. She nodded in silent understanding and they headed for the small cabin at Bankstown Road.
After the episode with the Governor the newly-installed council had decided to institute staging areas and storage rooms in case of an attack against the prison and the group had to leave their home. The Bankstown Road cabin, a former road maintenance depot totally overgrown by kudzu, was the second storage room they had completed. They held canned food, water, clothes, blankets, a few guns, flash lights and a walky-talky to reach the other safety points. The simple metal container was surrounded by a wooden spike fence to keep Walkers away.
Daryl and Carol snaked through the defending barrier and they stepped into the dry cabin.
"I'll call the prison to let them know we're okay but will be late." Carol reached for the walky-talky.
"'kay, I hide the bikes." Daryl ran back into the worst storm of the whole summer, a camouflage net in his hands. They couldn't risk an attack from passing strangers, so he moved the bicycles behind the cabin and threw the net over them.
As he came back inside Carol was stripped down to her panties, which were also soaked from the rain. The smooth champagne colored silk glued at her heart-shaped butt. There was nearly no change to her skin color. Fuck, what was this woman doing to him. It got quite tight in Daryl's pants. Carol toweled her hair and front. Nervously but with excitement prickling in her belly, she looked over her shoulder.
"Sorry," she reached for a dry shirt and pulled it over her head.
"No problem," Daryl muttered, nibbling at his thumbnail.
"I checked the pills we organized. The wrapping is muddy but the tablets are okay."
"Maybe we should spread them on the table to dry so the docs can still read the labels." Daryl lowered his gaze and smiled a half smile.
Carol nodded and looked for a second towel for Daryl. She passed it over and turned toward the table, averting her gaze from the soaked hunter. Rain still dropped out of his dark hair. Daryl got out of his heavy leather vest and hung it over a chair. But as he opened the buttons of his shirt he turned to the door.
Chapter II: Wabi-Sabi - the discovery of beauty in imperfection; the acceptance of the cycle of life and death
Word Count: 649
Carol had seen the bad scars on Daryl's back and chest a few times before, but she knew he still was uncomfortable being shirtless. She could imagine the old pain and torment he still felt. He always wore a shirt even when working in the hottest midday heat. Even with the rain drops pattering on the metal roof she could hear his turning away and moving to the door. "I reached Maggie on the walky. They know where we are and that we'll be late or maybe have to stay overnight," Carol said.
She stepped behind Daryl, tracking the dark red lines on his back with her eyes. Carefully she laid a clean button-down shirt around his broad should, feeling him shiver. What she would give to move her palms slowly over his muscles, showing him that the past was past and he survived stronger.
Both starred out of the door inside the increasing storm, smelling the rain on dry earth.
"At least there are no Walkers around." Daryl slipped into the shirt.
"Maybe afraid of water."
Daryl shrugged his shoulders and turned slowly on his heels. He was lost in Carol's cornflower blue eyes. They couldn't fool themselves any longer. The tensions had been growing over the last weeks. They were more than friends. There was a blind understanding. They had teased each other. There was fun and respect.
They were alone and had nothing to do for the first time in months. The air sizzled. Should they shrug it off or take the risk?
"Daryl!" Carol whispered, and reached out for him. Her fingertips followed the heavy scar arcos his chest. She knew she had to make the first step. Daryl gasped for breath but he didn't flinch. They both noted the big improvement.
Carol removed the unbuttoned shirt from Daryl's shoulders. With a soft swush it fell to the ground. To feel his warm skin over his strong muscles made her get weak in the knees.
Daryl reached for Carol's shirt and pulled her closer. They were close, so close. In a quick move the shirt was off. His fingers hovered over the pale stretch marks under her belly button. He knew her many scars of torment weren't visible.
Daryl lifted Carol and carried her to the old couch in the back of the cabin. The green seat cover was worn out but the cushion still comfortable.
It would finally happen. Carol took a deep breath before their lips met. Carefully they explored each other. A quick lick over Daryl's lower lip made him jerk away but moan at the same time. He moved back in for the next kiss but their foreheads bumped together, making them laugh. They were more than rusty. Daryl also didn't know where to place his hands so Carol took them gently and laid them on her bare breasts.
Carol leaned into the touch, arching her back. It had been so long ago that a man...Ed...touched her. Daryl moved closer to kiss her neck, collarbones and the soft hollow at her throat – spots he had dreamed many nights all alone in his cell – and he wanted to lay down on Carol to feel her everywhere.
Carol couldn't breathe. Ed! Panic rose in a rush up to her throat. Ed! She pressed her hands against Daryl's chest and tried to slip away under his weight.
"Carol!" Daryl gasped alarmed. Her eyes were wide open, full of horror, and her flushed cheeks turned pale. "It's me."
"Sorry, oh sorry." Her heart beating quickly, Carol clung to Daryl.
Carol nodded, her face buried at Daryl's neck. He stroked Carol's back. "We don't have to. We can take our time."
"But I want so much."
"Good." They shared a long gaze into each other's eyes.
"You know it's just you and me."
"Wanna screw around?"
Chapter III: Frisson - a shiver of pleasure
Word Count: 569
"Yes, oh yes."
"Where had we stopped?" Daryl asked with a big grin, and moved in for another gentle kiss on Carol's juicy lips.
Carol was glad that Daryl made it so easy for her and that her heavy flashback hadn't scared him off. She lay back on the couch, pulling Daryl with her. His beard tickled her but Carol's giggling stopped as lips closed around one of her nipples. Soft sucking let her whimper.
Carol's noises of delight just heightened Daryl's excitement. He was always a good observer, one of the reasons why he was such a good hunter. But he never expected to use this skill to create shivers of pleasure for Carol. All the kissing and licking and nibbling and teasing, he couldn't stop and had many more ideas how to please his friend.
Daryl moved behind Carol, snuggling into the couch and pressing her back into his front. They both gasped as they melted together. One of Daryl's hands sneaked into the silk pants to the soft triangle between Carol's legs. The other hand stopped at the soft flesh of her small breasts before it rested gently around her exposed throat, feeling for her pulse and for the success of the first hand.
"Don't stop, Daryl, please don't stop," Carol begged. How could he deny her? Her skin was so soft and the heat and humidity between her legs incredible. Just Carol's soft rocking butt against his rock hard cock made him go crazy. It was so damn long ago, plus he dreamed about being with Carol for quite a while.
"Carol," Daryl grunted, and couldn't hold it any longer. He came without warning into his boxers.
Carol turned to face him and could see Daryl’s embarrassment. His lips started to form the word sorry, but there was nothing to be sorry about. She pressed her lips with full relish on his. They just started and had so much more alone time. The storm increased inside and outside.
"Let me taste you." Carol didn't save one spot of Daryl's delicious neck and chest, running her lips and tongue all over him. The short dark hair that began under his navel made Carol crazy. She looked back to his face and winked with a naughty smile.
Carol pressed open-mouth kisses along the waist band of Daryl's boxers, making him squirm. But before she reached inside or got him naked, she slipped off the couch and grabbed one of the condom boxes they also had organized at the pharmacy. She stepped back in front of the couch and stripped slowly, swinging her hips lasciviously out of her panties, the last garment she was wearing.
Turning around, she bent over provocatively to place the condoms in reach.
"Are you trying to kill me?"
Carol didn't know where this sexual courage was coming from. She never did this for a man before. Ed had laughed at her if she had tried to seduce him. But Daryl made her feel so sensual and sexy.
The second round was not far away. Carol could see movement in Daryl's boxers, the rest of his body was tense. Daryl slid his boxers off and threw them in the corner. Carol took another deep breath and was welcomed by Daryl's open arms.
The storm raged the whole night but Daryl and Carol discovered very well how to make the best of their time.
Chapter IV: Glaucous - pale bluish-grey, like morning fog; frosted
Word Count: 525
Carol's legs jerked and she awoke with a soft moan. She didn't want to open her eyes, wanted to rest a little longer under the blanket they had thrown over their exhausted bodies after a night full of lust and passion.
When she opened her eyes now, she would have to face reality. Carol didn't know if she was ready. Last night had been overwhelming. They had shared hidden secrets between endless lovemaking. It had been wild and gentle, a wonderful mix of truth and frankness. Would this new level of trust and closeness still be there? Carol was afraid they would still be “just friends.” But a quick kiss on the tip of her nose and tender stroking of her back dispelled all doubts. Carol opened her eyes.
"Morning," Daryl said with a big smile, and nuzzled his face in the crock of Carol's neck.
"Good morning, Daryl."
"I would love to have you again," Daryl murmured, and pressed his hard length against Carol, making her whimper. But their stomachs growling with hunger pangs interrupted them. Carol asked with a laugh, "Mhm, which desire is stronger?"
Daryl popped up on his elbows. He looked Carol deep in the eyes and pulled a face. "Both!" In his birthday suit he ran through the cabin and opened the door, pale bluish-grey fog billowed inside.
"Daryl, what are you doing?"
"Just a second," he said, and was out of the cabin with a knife in his hand.
With the blanked wrapped around her body, Carol walked to the door and peeked out. The morning fog nearly swallowed Daryl but she could just see him on his tiptoes, gathering a few late peaches for breakfast.
With a big grin Carol went back to the couch. She dropped the blanket and lay back against the cushion, one hand between her legs as she waited for Daryl.
As Daryl stepped back inside he almost dropped the peaches, his jaw hung open. It took all of his will to place the fruits on the table before he joined Carol's naughty game.
After a sensual morning and a quick breakfast of water and peaches, they tidied the cabin and packed the medicine and other supplies, locking the door behind them. Yesterday’s heavy rain and the morning heat transformed Georgia to a steam boiler. At least the Walkers were rare, and there had been no incidents on the ride home from the Bankstown Road cabin. There was only one more turn before they’d be able to see the prison through the woods.
"You're late," Glenn welcomed them at the gate. "The rain had been over for hours."
Carol and Daryl shrugged it off. They moved the bikes over the court to their stands, trying to suppress a giggle. As the door to the clinic shut behind them, their hands found each other and held tight. Carol placed the pills and boxes on a table so one of the docs could identify them. Daryl stored the toiletries, but kept the open condom box, pushing it into his hip pocket.
"How was the night?" Hershel asked behind them, and only got blushing as answer.