TWD - Chapter 595: That's How You Create an Opportunity (Patreon)

Merle arched an eyebrow, looking unbearably pleased with his own experience in matters of romance. "Think about it. Guiding her hands, standing nice and close. You get to show off how quickly you're learning, too. That's called making an opportunity, dumbass. Understand?"

Daryl made a little noise, then said with apparent sincerity, "Merle, you sure know a lot."

Merle blinked, then puffed up with pride. "Damn right. I've been around longer than you can even..."

"That's what you call experience?" Daryl interrupted, striking right where it hurt.

Merle nearly choked. He glared at his brother. "You little shit. Can you ever say anything nice?" Daryl ignored him completely.

It took Merle a while to recover. Then he put on the long-suffering expression of an older brother who only wanted what was best for his family. "I'm being serious. Haven't you ever thought about learning something new?"

"Like what?"

"How to make a move on Leah!" Merle slapped his thigh, practically shouting. "Even Carver figured out he can get close to Calista by teaching her staff fighting. Why can't you learn from him?"

Daryl's ears turned bright red. He immediately looked away and pretended to be fascinated by the training ground.

Merle leaned closer, grinning wickedly. "Holy shit, your ears look like tomatoes!"

"It's hot," Daryl muttered, turning farther away.

"Sure it is. So why don't I ever see your face turn red when it's hot outside?"

Daryl kept his mouth shut.

Merle wasn't finished. "Look at Carver. He learns staff fighting so he can teach Calista. You need something you're good at, something you can teach Leah!" He thought about it, then slapped his leg in frustration. "You're a disgrace to the Dixon name! You've already had dinner with her, and you've been following her around forever. Still haven't won her over. Jesus!"

Daryl's ears were practically glowing. He gave the matter some serious thought. "She's better than me in hand-to-hand combat."

Merle stared. "What?"

"She's knocked me on my ass plenty of times when we spar." Daryl said it so matter-of-factly that he seemed immune to the humiliation by now.

Merle opened his mouth, closed it, and finally blurted, "Then teach her something else!"

"Like what?"

"The crossbow!" Merle clapped his hands. "You never miss. Teach her how to aim, put your arms around hers to steady the shot. Perfect opportunity!"

Daryl thought for another moment. "She already learned."

"When?"

"Two months ago. Calista came to me for crossbow lessons and brought Leah along. They practiced with me for a week."

Of course, Daryl would never have the nerve to flirt with the older sister while her younger sister stood right there.

Merle was stumped, but he refused to surrender. "Motorcycles, then! You can ride like nobody's business. Teach Leah to ride!"

"She knows how."

"Again? Since when? She couldn't ride back at the farm last year!"

"Calista taught her after her birthday."

Merle fell silent. He looked at Daryl as though his brother had been put on this earth solely to ruin his plans. "So you're saying you don't have a single other thing you can teach her?"

Daryl counted on his fingers. "She's better in a fight, she's learned the crossbow, and she can ride a bike." He paused. "Guess I really don't have anything left."

Merle stood with his mouth open for a long moment. Finally, he exploded. "Then make an opportunity! You could... you could..." He scratched his head and wracked his brain, but not one idea came to him.

Daryl watched him calmly. "Could what?"

Merle deflated and slumped against the fence. "How the hell should I know? Figure it out yourself!"

A fleeting smile touched Daryl's lips. "All that thinking, and that's the best you've got?"

"Fuck you! I'm trying to help you, and you're making fun of me!"

Daryl let that one go. After a long silence, he spoke quietly. "Merle."

"Hm?"

Daryl turned to face him. "All that advice about making opportunities and spending more time with someone. You know so much about it. Why don't you try it yourself?"

Merle's smug expression froze. "I... Who the hell would I try it on?"

"You never spar with Calista," Daryl pointed out.

Merle's ears went scarlet. "I've only got one hand! How am I supposed to..."

"You're faster with a knife in your left hand than Turner is. That's not an excuse."

Merle stiffened and fumbled for words. "I... I've got things to do!"

"What things?" Daryl pressed, mischief flickering in his eyes.

Merle opened his mouth and couldn't invent a single answer.

Daryl regarded his brother's misery for a moment, then laughed softly. "Merle, maybe you should take your own advice."

Merle went red from the neck up. He sprang to his feet and stormed away. "Bullshit! I'm not wasting my time talking to an idiot! I'm going to eat!"

He hurried off so clumsily he could barely keep his stride straight. Daryl watched him flee, smiling more openly now, and rose to follow at an easy pace. After a few steps he called, "Merle."

Merle didn't turn around. "What the fuck now?"

Daryl looked ahead, his tone suddenly more thoughtful. "What you said about learning something so you can teach her. That part actually makes sense."

Merle stopped dead. Without turning, he flung a hand into the air. "Then go figure it out yourself!" He walked even faster, apparently determined to disappear into the cafeteria.

Daryl watched his brother beat a hasty retreat and finally let himself laugh.

Merle, meanwhile, had practically sprinted to the cafeteria. "Damn brat," he muttered, embarrassed and annoyed. "Since when does he talk so much? Now he knows how to turn it all around on me..."

He touched his burning cheeks. "Fuck." He pushed through the cafeteria doors.

The place was packed at mealtime. People lined up for food, competed for seats, and talked over one another. Merle slipped into a quiet corner and sat down, breathing a sigh of relief. He'd barely settled when Carver appeared with a tray and took the seat opposite him.

Merle stared. "What're you doing here?"

Carver picked up his utensils. "Eating. What else?"

Merle fell silent, still mortified by his exchange with Daryl.

Carver ate a few mouthfuls before looking up. His eyebrow rose. "Oh? Why's your face so red?"

Merle coughed and borrowed his brother's excuse. "It's hot."

Carver glanced outside into the cool evening, then looked back at him with an expression that plainly asked, Do you think I'm stupid? Merle quickly buried his face in his food, avoiding eye contact.

Carver didn't push it. They ate in silence for a while before Merle glanced up again.

"Hey."

Carver raised his head. "Hm?"

"You really going to learn staff fighting tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"For that reason?" Merle asked, his composure restored and his tone suddenly suggestive.

Carver blinked. "What reason?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Merle waggled his eyebrows, deliberately refusing to say it outright.

Carver blinked again. His ears quietly went scarlet, but he kept his expression cool. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Merle clicked his tongue. "Sure. Keep pretending."

Carver attacked his food and ignored him.

All the embarrassment Daryl had caused Merle vanished. Delighted, he chuckled to himself. "Fine, fine. You don't know a thing. Let's eat."

He kept shoveling food into his mouth with a wicked grin while Carver ate in stubborn silence, his ears still red. They sat across from one another, each preoccupied with his own thoughts.

Warm evening sunlight streamed through the cafeteria windows, falling across their shoulders and somehow leaving both men feeling warmer inside as well.