#yes my own experiences influence my fic writing yes im mentally ill. next.

[devnmon]

Rush.

Summary: The hot water floods not only your skin, but your head with thoughts of the man you loved.

A/n: Wrote this after a long day of missing Daryl and being so head over heels for him... anyway enjoy my brainrotted thoughts.

wc: 560

It was the hot water, and it was him.

Each droplet traveled the expanses of your skin from the moment it left the head of the shower. The sound of rushing water and warmth behind closed lids was only a reminder of him further. Within the water was heat, one that burned in your heart for him the way his burned for you. Your fingertips scraped through the grime and dirt thick in your hair, almost the same way he did for you the first time you convinced him this place was safe. That this place was home, Alexandria.

What was once a calm and peaceful place for you, could never be made the same without him. Through the river of water covering your face, you felt him. You always felt him, more when you knew he was around somewhere nearby, but even more when his presence escaped you. Every second your eyes remained closed was a second more you wished with your whole heart that he was there. Standing opposite you, just watching you wash the buildup on your skin, the stress, the sweat, all of it-- he would study you washing yourself clean.

He only wished bathing came easy to him like it did for you.

The only thing that remained, in his eyes, was your perfect self. Your only wish bouncing about in that head of yours was that you'd open your eyes and see him. That your heartache would be cured just by seeing the archer, his face, hearing his voice, feeling his hands caress the canvas of your skin.

Each and every droplet of water descending down your back was, to you, each kiss he'd planted on your body, running a shiver up your spine. Goosebumps were only ever evident in his presence, raising the delicate hairs that grew over your skin. In him, you found home. A safeness you had only felt in dreams of someplace safe to spend the rest of your life with him.

But in a moment, your eyes open, the lonely ache returning at the sight of a wall of blue tile. When the drop in your stomach returned, it only returned in a way the every day dirt and blood returned under your fingernails. A breath you hadn't realized you were holding withdrew from your chest, the next inhale finding a strong shudder before a lump formed in the back of your throat.

The state of vulnerability hits you when you realize just how alone you are. He's not there. He isn't even in the walls of Alexandria. You have no idea where he is, and that tears up any feeling of security you had into shreds.

Two years gone-- away from you. Two years looking for his best friend, his brother. Two years without his kisses, his voice, his touch. Two years without his strong arms around you, the gravel of his voice whispering he loved you and that he'd rather die before losing you.

But this, this felt worse than losing him.

The water still trickled down your back, cold now from how long it's been running. You still couldn't get the thought of him out of your mind. Like he'd been tattooed on the expanses of your skin and stuck into the ridges of your brain.

This feeling would never go away, and neither would he.