Unbreakable threads

Chapter One hundred and Twelve: Alyssa is changing.

A couple of months had passed since that fateful night, and Alexandria had found a new rhythm. The people had come to accept Rick and Alyssa, realizing that the actions they had taken—while brutal—were necessary for the survival of the community. Even Deanna had come to terms with the harsh reality of their world, letting go of the idealistic vision she had once held for Alexandria.

Life inside the walls had settled. Rick and Alyssa, now closer than ever, had repaired their father-daughter relationship. Alyssa was living with Rick, Carl, and baby Judith, and for the first time in a long time, they felt like a family.

But one thing remained broken: Alyssa and Daryl's bond. Since that night, they hadn't spoken unless it was absolutely necessary. The closeness they once shared was gone, a wound that Alyssa carried quietly. It hurt her deeply, but she refused to let it show.

It was early one morning when Carol and Daryl were walking down one of Alexandria's quiet streets. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft glow over the neighborhood. They were chatting idly when they both noticed movement ahead.

Alyssa was emerging from one of the houses, the home of a middle-aged woman who had joined the community recently.

Her black tank top clung to her muscular frame, and she was in the process of buckling her jeans back up. Her hair was tousled, and she looked every bit like someone who had just rolled out of bed—though clearly not her own.

Carol's lips curled into a mischievous grin as she called out in amusement. "Those ladies are just using you, Alyssa! You know they're not gay!"

Alyssa glanced up, her face lighting up with her usual cocky smirk. Without missing a beat, she replied, "I'm a giver, not a taker." She winked at Carol, her confidence radiating even as she finished buckling her belt.

Carol burst out laughing, shaking her head. "You're somethin' else, kid."

Daryl, however, remained silent. His jaw clenched tightly, his expression unreadable as he stared at Alyssa. He said nothing, but his body language spoke volumes. The tension in his posture, the way his eyes lingered on her for just a moment too long—it was all there, simmering beneath the surface.

Alyssa, catching Daryl's reaction out of the corner of her eye, didn't let her smirk falter. She simply adjusted her belt and gave Carol a playful salute before turning and walking off toward her house. She didn't say anything to Daryl, and he didn't say anything to her. The silence between them was as loud as ever.

Alyssa walked casually down the street, heading toward Rick's house. She sparked a cigarette, the flame briefly lighting her face as she held it between her lips. The morning air was quiet except for the soft crunch of her boots on the gravel.

From one of the nearby houses, Abraham emerged, his large frame unmistakable. He spotted her, his sharp eyes catching the faint curl of smoke rising from her cigarette. With a grin tugging at his lips, he jogged over to her, his curiosity evident.

"Where have you been?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone carrying its usual bluntness.

Alyssa snorted, quirking an eyebrow right back at him. She gestured casually with her thumb toward the house she had just left, smoke curling lazily from her lips as she took a drag.

Abraham followed her gesture, glancing at the house, and let out a hearty chuckle. "Ah," he said knowingly, his grin widening.

Alyssa smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief as she exhaled a puff of smoke. "What can I say, Red? I keep myself entertained."

Abraham reached out, plucking the cigarette from her fingers with ease and taking a puff himself. "Gotta say, kid, you know how to keep things... interesting around here," he remarked, his voice thick with amusement.