As much as Paul wants so many things, the fact of the matter is he's not some teenager in which this kind of thing is a desperate end-all be-all deal-breaker "I need this or I'm going to die." (You're not like nineteen or some shit, are you?) To be frank, he would be fine - perfectly content - if they never actually progress past this. It's stupid but he doesn't know how to convey that without saying it in some kind of embarrassing way - laying curled against Daryl with his head tucked into the crook of his neck is just as good as breathing out shaking against his mouth. (It's great they both want it, but it just means that he's fine waiting for the right time. Seriously.)

But dwelling on it isn't going to help him figure out how to let him know any better, so he focuses on his hair for the moment instead, picking through it carefully and meticulously. It's slower work than usual what with the lack of care he took with it the past night due to exhaustion but that's fine; it gives him something to focus on. By the time Daryl's nudging the door open Paul is coiling it all up into a slightly messy (#aesthetic) pile atop his head, ends tucked underneath. It's only partially because it looks awful down today. Why this.

Also by the time Daryl is fully inside the trailer he's gotten up, moved the couple of feet to the table, pulled one chair out for Daryl, then pulled out one for himself and settled into it with an elbow resting on the table and his cheek resting against his hand. Casual. So casual. "I forgot," he explains, "how hungry I was."

(Paul, you haven't eaten more than like an apple in two days, how do you just forget--)