The day had begun like any other since arriving in Alexandria—uneasy and strange. The group was still settling in, most of them assigned jobs by Deanna to help integrate into the community. You and Daryl, however, had yet to be given any tasks, leaving you both restless. When Rick suggested you could go on a hunt, it was an easy decision to take the opportunity to escape the walls for a while.

Daryl hadn’t hesitated to keep his crossbow—it was as much a part of him as the clothes he wore. But when you reached the armory to sign out a weapon, the process was slower than you liked. Daryl leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange with a simmering irritation.

“Bullshit,” he muttered under his breath, his gravelly voice cutting through the quiet space. His glare burned into the supply clerk, who was meticulously checking forms. You couldn't disagree. The rules felt stifling, and you knew Daryl hated every second of it.