Daryl's expression turns hard, cold. Where he was impassive before, his hackles raise. How dare she call him a coward, after all he's done? All they've done together?
(Does she really think so little of him?)
No longer caring who hears-- if he even cared to begin with-- he barks back, "Lost my taste for death, but if you're so hot for it, go ahead." He turns to leave, his steps quick and angry.
Bites back, like she wants to rip the words out of his mouth. "If I do, it will be no business of yours or anyone else to decide whether I should or not." Cursed at his back, watching him walk away from her.
She doesn't mean it, of course she doesn't. But it hardly mattered, not now, when they're were spitting up bile.
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(Does she really think so little of him?)
No longer caring who hears-- if he even cared to begin with-- he barks back, "Lost my taste for death, but if you're so hot for it, go ahead." He turns to leave, his steps quick and angry.
no subject
She doesn't mean it, of course she doesn't. But it hardly mattered, not now, when they're were spitting up bile.