Rick, Carl and I shared one of Alexandria's many houses. This was a pleasant idea when we all got along, but if one of us - namely Carl or I - were ever angry or frustrated, it was not a good place to wake up.

But I didn't care right now. As far as I was concerned, Carl had took what he knew to be my one biggest regret of the past few years, and he had used that regret against me.

I had locked the door of my room and, in spite of Carl and Rick knocking almost every ten minutes to check up on me, I had not unlocked it again until I was awoken by the sounds of construction outside the following morning.

Light was streaming in through the window, and almost instantly I was reminded that today was the day Daryl Dixon, Carl and I were embarking upon a two day supply run out of Alexandria.

Great...

Two days with Carl, and no space between us.

I shook my head to myself at my thought process.

Jesus Christ. How can I be talking like this? He's my boyfriend for God's sake. I can't hate him. At least not for long.

But what he said yesterday...

I decided to forget about that; at least for the time being. I told myself that it was a new morning, and things would be different today.

I hauled myself out of bed, dressed myself and made a half-assed attempt to comb my hair, before unlocking my door and walking out of my secluded haven.

Rick was downstairs, consulting Deanna in the living room once more.

"Morning Rick," I greeted him reluctantly. I had demanded that the two of them leave me alone last night, and I had used some... unnecessary language in the process.

"Morning," he replied, giving me a glance which I was able to interpret as either concerned or cautioning.

Rick may have forgiven me and come to respect me after the ordeal with Simon, but he still kept Carl's best interests at heart, and he had been quite angered last night by my actions.

"Morning Riley," Deanna greeted me with a kind smile which I gladly returned, grateful for an excuse to break the awkward eye contact between Carl's father and I.

"Sorry, uhh... About last night," I sighed, deciding that I should probably confront the issue sooner rather than later.

"Take it up with him," Rick sighed. He was never one for saying things outright, but I was able to interpret this as his acceptance of my apology.

I nodded in agreement - knowing that the sooner I made amends with Carl, the better it would be for all of us - before leaving the two leaders to discuss the very trade agreements that had sparked Carl's frustration yesterday, and walking outside.

I peered up at the guard tower. Sasha was gone, and in her place clutching the rifle was Spencer: Deanna's only surviving son.

Maybe Tyreese got through to her.

Good.

I know the feeling too well. The feeling that you could have done something different. The longing to just turn back time. And when you realize that's not an option, you just... want to end it all. But hopefully Sasha's recovering from all that.

I knew where Carl would be. He and I have a similar mindset as far as dealing with frustration goes. He would be trying to forget it all - to put it all to one side and focus on something important.

He'd be gearing up for the supply run.

Which meant that I would probably find him at the armory.

---

-Carl-

I hadn't meant what I said yesterday.

Well... I had, but not what I'd said to Riley at least.

He didn't deserve that. He was just trying to keep the group together, and I didn't blame him for it either.

It was easy for people - particularly me - to take things like a family and a group for granted, and I always felt like an asshole for doing so when I looked at people like Riley, who'd lost theirs long ago.

He'd locked himself in his room last night and hadn't opened his door, even when I left the house to gear up.

He'd been angry at me before, but not like this. Usually it lasted for a few minutes, then we'd hug and kiss and forget the whole thing.

But his outbursts had been increasing in both frequency and severity.

Once again, I could hardly blame him for it. It was always me that kept catalyzing it. I would get annoyed, and he'd try and comfort me, and I'd lash out. That seemed to have become a daily ordeal recently.

We loved each other like hell when we first met. We still did - at least, that's what I thought.

That's just something else I keep taking for granted.

Recently our relationship had undeniably been declining.

Don't think about that, Carl. Not now.

Taking my mind off the topic, I reached over and carefully lifted a Heckler & Koch machine gun from the rack on which it was stored. It was ice-cold, and heavy in my hands. But in a strange way, I enjoyed the sensation.

It gave a feeling of... reassurance. That so long as I clutched this, all it took was strength of will and a good aim, and I could keep both myself and those around me safe.

At that moment, I felt a pair of arms wrap gently around my waist. I briefly tensed up at the unexpected sensation, before relaxing as I identified Riley's presence. I felt his warm breath tickle by my ear as he rested his lower jaw on my shoulder, the side of his face softly touching mine.

"If I was a walker, you'd be half the Grimes you used to be by now," he whispered with a smirk.

I smiled softly, both at the feeling of Riley's presence and the fact that he didn't sound like he was bearing a grudge over what had happened last night.

"If you were a walker," I grinned, placing the weapon back on the rack and turning around to face him, "you'd be the best looking walker I'd ever seen."

"You have a way with words," Riley chuckled.

He certainly hadn't meant it in a vindictive way, but I found myself reminded of last night none the less.

"I'm... Sorry," I sighed apologetically, "about last night."

"Don't worry about it," he replied, clearly too caught up in the moment to pay his complete attention to what I was saying, before pulling me forward with his hands that were still wrapped around my waist and placing his lips softly against mine.

We stood like this for a few seconds, simply admiring the presence of one another, before Riley kissed harder. This, as usual, demanded a more... physical response, and in an instant I had spun him around and now gently eased him back against the weapon rack.

"Careful," he smirked, glancing back at the weapons, "wouldn't want the fun to come to a dead end."

"Well I'd die happy," I replied.

I can't remember the last time we'd acted like this.

There had been a few occasions since our ordeal with Simon, but they had all been in the few weeks afterwards. Back when our love was still raw and we both had the lingering fear that every kiss could be our last.

I'd missed it more than I thought, and if there was a way to make amends following last night, this had got to be it.

Just then, however, Riley's eyes trailed away from me, landing upon a sight that clearly startled him. He parted from me instantly, pushing me unintentionally to one side as the two of us stumbled back. There was a loud rattle, the two of us knocking the metal rack, with our eyes falling upon Daryl Dixon, who now stood in the doorway.

"Uhh... Daryl," I greeted, wiping my mouth and picking up my weapon to try and assert myself, "hey."

Riley just stood beside me, speechless and motionless. Our relationship had been a reasonably well-kept secret in the community -until now.

Daryl only uttered three words.

"I knew it."