HIRAETH ˎˊ˗

runaways

❝ain't that shit cute?❞
— negan.

Bang,

bang,

bang!

— went a door at the far end of the hallway Alexa now slowly approached with hesitation. For whatever reason, the exit door to the infirmary's wing was locked, and that left Alexa up to her own devices as she took random turns into hallways unknown.

Her heart beat faster with every foot step that she took in a direction that wasn't marked with any signs reading, "do not enter" and yet — she was also never told to freely wander around.

But, no one ever told her what to do if the door she was assigned to exit out of was locked. Dumb was never cute, but Alexa could sometimes bare to act ditsy enough just to get by.

Besides, in her mind, none of her actions were wrong. She wasn't harming herself, or anyone for that matter. And yet, Alexa's heart felt adrenaline surge in like a race car as she disregarded any rational thoughts and dared stand in front of the door that madly rattled by someone's angry fists.

Every fiber, every instinct in Alexa's gut told her that she was breaking the rules just by doing something that Negan didn't instruct her to do.

And yet, all her stubborn mind could focus on was the rattling door.

Alexa stood in front of it, wondering who the hell was working up such an anger inside that room. With the door just a few feet away from a corner that connected to another long and grim hallway, Alexa peaked in, making sure no one was around before she stepped back in front of the door.

As her hand instinctively reached out to touch the brassy door knob, the song that was currently playing blared even louder than before:

❝WE'RE ON EASY STREET,
AND IT FEELS SO SWEET—

CAUSE THE WORLD IS

NOTHING BUT A TREAT,
& YOU'RE ON EASY ST.❞

Alexa's hands immediately sprung to her ears.

Although it had been years since she last heard music, this overly bubbly melody was torturous to say the least.

Often times, Alexa and Jeremy would playfully joke that if they ever heard music again, even Britney Spears, they'd gleefully sing along.

The last concert she attended was a sold out Disturbed show, and once you sing Down With The Sickness at the top of your lungs in a crowd full of sweaty bodies, you just can't go back to pop.

You've successfully transition to the dark side, and there's no going back.

When the door knob turns left, Alexa comes back to reality. By natural intuition, she steps backs as the door pries open, and out springs the one and only —

daryl dixon.

Eyes locked,

heart beats spiked,

and footsteps echoed nearby.

Without wasting another second, Daryl took peaked through the corner before bolting down the same hallway Alexa had earlier inspected.