Daryl went still, his head turning slowly from the bottle in his hands to the one she was holding out. He kept his head down, shoulders hunching a little. Then shook his head 'no', and said in a soft, forcibly neutral tone, "That's yours." He'd given it to her. He didn't take back shit he gave of his own will. That was hers to have. It hurt a little she thought he'd want it back.

Maybe he was too shitfaced for this.