In a way it's devastating to hear. Daryl doesn't know how to react-- he doesn't even have any theoretical media-typical notions floating in his head, and he doesn't want to do or say the wrong thing. Daryl doesn't know how he feels, either, because he's not sure what the fuck love is. Is it what he felt when he saw Carol outside Terminus? Is it what he felt when Rick called him his brother? Or is it everything that makes those moments feel like anything at all?

He hopes it's alright that he doesn't have fuckall to say right now. He's overwhelmed and this is some shit to process-- it's not fair to Paul, but fuck, life's not fair. Nothing about life before or after is ever going to be fair.

Daryl kisses him suddenly - not soft at all but with the kind of passion he normally always holds back on. He has one arm around him, his other hand holding his face, and there's nothing elegant about it, practiced only in what he's learned between the two of them. When he breaks to suck in a breath it sounds shuddering, like maybe he's crying, but he's too close for Paul to see his face-- and Daryl apparently intends to keep it that way, because he kisses him again and then all but crushes him against his chest after, pressed too close for even light to slip through.

He's not budging. Paul might as well sleep.