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Lips Like Kerosene

A Shake of the Head

"She came in here fuckin' cryin' her eyes out, 'cus ya fuckin' smacked her lights out! And ya know what? She wasn't cryin' cus it hurt, she was cryin' 'cus she fuckin' likes you, asshole."

When Merle didn't respond, only sat there on Daryl's busted old couch and stared blankly at the floor, the younger Dixon rolled him eyes. "Whateva man," he muttered, before leaving his house and brother. Merle did not budge for a long time.

- - - - - - - - - -

One Weeks Later

"No Genee, I'll be there... Mhmm... oh I'm sure you'll fit in the dress, don't worry about that!" Carrie rolled her eyes as she talked on the phone to her younger sister, whom was freaking out about her wedding in two weeks. She was twenty-two and getting married to her high school sweetheart, active member of their church growing up and in the process of becoming a successful doctor--Carrie hated it. After all, Genny and her boyfriend, Christopher (typical perfect boy name), were the reason Carrie's mother kept calling her and bagging on her about having a 'real life' and 'settling down' and 'going nowhere.' In two weeks, she would be a bridesmade while her sister went from Andrews to Montgomery.

Carrie continued to mix the instant mashed potatoes on the stove, since she hadn't felt like cooking much that night. The phone was pressed between her shoulder and her ear, one hand was stirring the pot and the other holding the handle.

"I can't help it! I feel bloated!" Carrie rolled her eyes. It was in the gene pool to be small and skinny--hell, their mom was still small and she had given birth twice. "By the way, are you going to bring a date? Because I need to know so that I can start planning with that and if you want photos and if to put another seat at your table and-"

Carrie cut her rambling sister off, as she tapped on the wooden spoon. "Gen, I don't know. Save a seat just in case, alright? And if mom asks-"

"Tell her that I know nothing. I know, I know." Carrie resisted the urge to roll her eyes again; this was exactly why her sister shouldn't even be getting married--she sounded like she was five.

Carrie listened to her sister ramble about the table arrangements as she made herself a bowl of the potatoes, 'mmm'ing and 'uh-huh'ing in the appropriate times to make it look like she cared. She loved her sister, but she couldn't care less about her stupid ass wedding and romance and love, when everything in her romantic life had gone to shit. Merle had not contacted her, and she wasn't sure she wanted him to yet. Or at least that was what she told herself, since she still missed him; the yellowing bruise on her cheek reminded her differently.

Carrie took her bowl the short distance to her apartment's couch and turned on the TV. She flicked through the limited channels as her sister changed the topic to the honeymoon in Hawaii, a surprise gift from mom. Just to piss me off, fucking bitch, Carrie thought to herself, since she had told her mother countless times that she would love to leave Georgia and visit Hawaii.

"It's going to be so romantic, I can't wait! Oh, Car, it'll be our first time and it'll be so special and I'm so excited! I'm glad I waited, and I bet you wished you waited to! I can't even begin to tell you how amazing and wonderful it's going to be!" Carrie resisted the urge to laugh and inform her sister the harsh truth that her 'perfect' and 'magical' first time would be a lot of crying and blood, but instead she smirked to herself through a mouthful of potatoes and kept it to herself. It'd be funnier to let her find that out on her own.

"Oh I bet, Gen," Carrie said with a hint of sarcasm, but of course her ditzy sister didn't catch it.

Instead she squealed happily. "Oh, I'm so excited to get married! You should find someone to tie down with, Carrie, it's the most amazing thing in the whole entire-" At that moment the doorbell rang, and Carrie's eyebrows furrowed. She hadn't been expecting company. She set her bowl on the arm of the couch, now ignoring her sister's rambling about how she needed to get married, like all typical soon-to-be-married pricks.

Carrie stood and crossed the short distance to the door. "Gen, someone's at the door, I'll talk to you later, okay?... Yes, Genny, I'll call, bye... love you too, Genny, okay... bye Gen!" Carrie finally hung up her cell and threw it on the couch, before opening the door.

Her heart and mind stopped when she saw Merle standing there, his hands behind her back. Different emotions ran through her as she looked up into his blue eyes. They were no longer bloodshot and drained of emotion, which made a part of her flip, but the other part wanted to slam the door in his face out of fear.

The second part won, fear taking over her. Carrie was slamming the door before she even had time to process what she was doing. The door was stopped by Merle's foot.

"Suga, just-"

"I don't want to see you, Dixon," Carrie hissed harshly, not sure where the hostility was coming from. She hid her face with her hair, not making eye contact.

"Oh, come on, we neva been on last name basis, what kind of bullshit-"

"Just go away!" Carrie told him, her voice pleading. She just want him to go; for this fucking hurt to go away. She was a fool to start liking her casual fling, especially one into drugs and excessive drinking, and it only hurt for him to be around. She limply stood there, just hoping her would leave, but something was shoved under her face.

Carrie's green eyes drifted to the bunch of wildflowers in his hand. They had no wrapping and were picked unevenly, and the look of the flowers made it obvious that they were from the woods. She just stared at them with her wide green eyes, not sure what to do with the white bunch of wildflowers.

"Wanted to say sorry, thought girls like girly shit like this--stupid ta think ya would, I--" Carrie wrapped her small hand around the flowers, stopping him from pulling them away. His voice was frustrated with her. Carrie knew that normally flowers wouldn't really mean anything, but she knew that this was Merle, and that the flowers meant more than some shit apology. She knew that Merle did not apologize, thinking it was weakness; plus, these were handpicked, he had to have gone and found them himself.

"No, no. I... they're perfect Merle," Carrie said lightly, slowly taking the flowers out of his hand and into the two of hers, fiddling with her fingers and staring at them.

Carrie felt one of his rough fingers hook under her chin, slowly tilting it up. Carrie bit her lip and tried to fight it, but he won and her hair fell from her cheeks. Merle sucked in a breath at the sight of her yellow and green cheek from where he slapped her. It was silent between the two of them. Merle was looking at her cheek, tilting her head to get a better look, while Carrie's green eyes were trained on his pained-looking and tired face.

"I ain't no woman-beater," he said lightly. Carrie nodded. "I ain't neva--shit, Carrie, I don't hit women."

The flowers were just a gesture of his guilt, but Carrie could see it in his eyes. They were sad, and as he examined her face and brushed his fingertips over her healing cheek, she knew with more words than her could ever possibly say that he didn't mean it. She didn't know if her would ever quit drugs, and didn't really expect him to for her, but she forgave him, and a small part of her knew that while she couldn't change him, that he could possibly change himself. She had missed him.

"I know," she whispered, knowing that this at least, was true. Merle was no where near a perfect man, or even a good one, but he wasn't an abuser. Merle was unsatisfied, a pit in his stomach making him feel just like his father, who spent everyday beating his wife that he used to love. Merle didn't love Carrie, and she wasn't his wife, but he had hit her and tried to stop her from running away. He wanted her safe, but he wanted her.

Carrie looked away, and Merle let her chin free. Her eyes settled on the flowers once more, and she was silent, before a smile grew on her face. "You free in two weeks?" she asked suddenly, and Merle furrowed his brows.

"Shit suga, did ya miss me that much?" Merle asked, confused. She was already up to bumpin' uglies again? Not that Merle minded, of course; he had missed her small frame and stamina and the way she was able to-

"Nah, I got somethin' I need ya to do for me. If ya do it, I'll spend that whole weekend with ya, doin' whatever ya please," she told him, looking him in the eyes. Her head was tilted, and her brown hair was falling to the side in their curls. Her green eyes sparkled with a hidden emotion, one that Merle couldn't pick out. Still, a whole weekend with Carrie, doing whatever he pleased sounded like a deal he couldn't pass up, for just one favor.

Merle grinned his cocky grin, happy that she seemed so eager to jump back to him; he thought she was gone and was devastated inside, not that he would ever admit that he was upset that he thought he lost his peach. "Sure, suga. I'll do it."

"Promise, baby?" Carrie asked, pouting her lip out a bit to seal the deal. Merle loved her little pout.

"Hell, I promise, long as I get that weekend. Know exactly what I want'cha ta do," Merle grinned.

Carrie went on her tip-toes and Merle swooped his head down to capture her soft lips. It was short, and when she pulled away he let out a low growl, missing her lips. She moved slowly to his ear, where she whispered," You're going with me to my sister's wedding in two weeks. Get a dress shirt."

She pulled away quickly, and before Merle could even question her through his dazed state, the door was shut in his face.

Merle stood their with his mouth hanging open in shock for a moment, before knocking on the door of her apartment once more. "Suga, what the FUCK do ya mean by weddin'?!"

All he received in response was one of her loud giggles, and the door opening a crack to throw a slip of paper at him before shutting. He knelt down and picked up the paper. It had a purple and silver design around the whole sheet with a single, small photo of a girl woman with the same brown hair as Carrie's, but plain brown eyes, and a boy with blue eyes and a blond pretty-boy haircut. They had cheesy smiles and looked sickeningly happy; typical young, stupid couple.


You are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of

Imogen Alexandria Andrews
and
Christopher John Montgomery

on Saturday, October 26th, 2009
at 4:00 PM

Underneath held the location and the address of the wedding, and Merle groaned. What the fuck was he getting himself signed up for?

Notes

It's been too long. Carrie and Merle will be getting more love, more often now that my finals and school is wrapped up for the summer. I have lots of muse too. Sorry if this is crap, but I hope you like it. Every vote and comment counts, I appreciate everything, good or bad!

TIMELINE: They met somewhere in mid June. Chapter three is about a month in, so around earlyish July when Daryl met her. Chapter four is three months together (so mid June to mid September), and almost three weeks without seeing each other, so that goes to early October--which a week later would bring us to mid-October, and two weeks later will be the first week of November. TIME JUMPS AROUND SO MUCH BECAUSE THIS ACTUALLY WILL END UP BEING A SHORT FIC.

I ask you kindly to go check out my other fanfics, one about
MERLE'S DAUGHTER, and the second a COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES about those who died in the apocalypse, which is really cool. I'd really appreciate if you went and voted and commented on those, because they're so much better than this honestly /o\

Comments

Omgsh, Merle will shit bricks then flip them if he finds out D:

Xxjerr19xX Xxjerr19xX
3/29/15

Merle would kill him

dombast dombast
3/22/15

Brill.

dombast dombast
3/22/15

He loves her

dombast dombast
3/22/15

Love how she handle it.

dombast dombast
3/22/15