Alexandria was peaceful.
Alexandria was normal.
Alexandria scared Daryl.
He adapted to the ending world in a matter of hours, but he couldn't snap back as fast.
There was running water and air conditioning and people, nice people.
Normal people.
And he was back to being that hick with the crossbow and the leather vest that needed a shave and a haircut.
Again.
There were perks.
There was booze.
There were cigarettes.
There were girls who were exactly as soft and sweet at the girls before the end.
They knew him, though.
They knew him and of him and they each thought they could change him.
They couldn't.
The girls thoughts were new.
All Daryl thought was how much trouble Merle would cause.
There was this one girl.
She was rough.
A sandpaper flower with sharp words and harsh tongues.
She was pure honey on the inside.
Her name was Amelia.
She was about the same height as Daryl.
She wore her hair messy and badly cut.
On purpose.
He and she ended up in the same bed more than once.
He would never admit it, but she was something special.
He told her, of course.
While she lay asleep next to him, he'd confess his secrets to her.
He liked the calm.
He liked her.
A lot.
He felt bad in Alexandria.
Every now and then, he'd hop the wall and walk around for a bit.
He always came back.
He still burned his arms with cigarettes and hot metal.
He started "accidentally" slipping up with his razor in the shower.
Amelia noticed his battle scars after a while.
When they were laying in bed together, she's see.
The circle burns across his arms and legs.
The cuts and scratches and baby scars.
She's run her hands over them when he was asleep.
She heard him talk when he thought she was asleep.
She loved him too.