As long as she spoils him in return. Don’t get too excited, Carol, it’s bound to get annoying sooner or later, Daryl hanging around like a puppy hoping for scraps of attention, waiting for her to think to notice him, half expecting her to get bored with him. She’s a woman not-too-far-out of a terrible marriage, after all, and her options here are hardly as limited as they were at home. For now, at least, insecurities aren’t on his mind; whatever he was trying to prove, to her or to himself, seems pretty solidly established; and maybe it’s trite to think it, but it does make him feel alive, more genuinely human. They don’t always have the time for that, back home, but it’s what he needs; it’s why he couldn’t stand the idea of being on his own.

He doesn’t want to break this off any more than she does. He doesn’t answer except with a slight flicker of a smile that she probably can’t see, and he just… waits. Stands there tracing the line of her jaw idly, catching his breath and letting his heart slow to a normal pace.

But life moves on and all that. He draws back the hand on her cheek after a moment, pulling away from her slightly, though his other hand’s still resting comfortably on her waist, and bends to reach for her forgotten backpack for her. When he rises, he shifts, slipping his arm further around her waist so they’re standing side by side to walk into the living room proper, instead of being stuck forever in the hallway.

It’s a pretty suave move. He gets one, okay, he’s been largely useless otherwise. He punctuates it with a quick kiss on her cheek, because after all this that’s easy, because he wants to reinforce that this isn’t done and forgotten, just… enough for the moment.