I was walking down one of the long hallways toward the dining hall. Even in the month that I had been here, I still got confused with all of the long corridors and many doors. The Sanctuary was so different from Alexandria, but it felt safe here. Negan made it feel safe. He was strong and brave and knew what to do to protect his people. I hadn't talked to Negan much since I'd been here, always feeling intimidated whenever he came near me. I had seen what he had done to Abraham and Glenn. I knew that he was dangerous, but for some unknown reason, I felt safe.

As I sat at one of the tables with my tray of food, I kept my head down, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. I glanced up and saw some people looking at one end of the large room, then continued eating my food, figuring that I should just mind my own business. A few seconds later, I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat. I was always so anxious, any little surprise caused me to jump. I turned my head to see a large hand clad in a black leather glove resting on my shoulder.

"Easy doll, nothin' to be afraid of," Negan's low, gravelly voice sent shivers down my spine.

When I didn't say anything, he gave me a smirk and then sat down next to me.

"You're Emma, right?" he asked, his dark green eyes piercing my light hazel.

"Yes." It came out in nearly a whisper.

I didn't know why Negan was suddenly starting up a conversation with me, so I sat in my seat, looking up at him, confusion across my face.

"How are you likin' the place? Pretty nice, huh?" His smirk never left his face.

I didn't answer him. This was the most he had talked to me since I had been here and his arrogance was starting to piss me off.

"It's alright," I said coolly before returning to my meal.

"Just alright? Sweetheart, you're lucky to be here. This place is way nicer than that shithole I took you from." His response set me off.

Even though I wasn't close with most of the members of the Alexandria group, I still felt that I had to defend them.

"That shithole you kidnapped me from was my home. And those people that you steal from every week, and the ones that you murdered, were my friends. There is nothing nice about this place. It isn't a home, it's a prison." I grabbed my tray and walked away, not looking back to see the expression on Negan's face.

I had a feeling I was going to be in big trouble for what I had said, but at that point I didn't care. Negan needed to know how I felt. Nothing about the Sanctuary felt like a home. Yes, it felt safe, but I had never felt more like a prisoner.

A few hours later, I heard a knock on my bedroom door and before I could answer it, Negan was strolling into my room with Lucille over his shoulder. Every time I saw Lucille, I saw the images of Glenn and Abraham being beaten to death.

"Hey sweetheart, we need to talk," he said as he stood across from where I sat cross-legged on my bed.

"I'm sorry about what I said, please don't hurt me." I could already feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Hurt you? Dollface, that's the last thing I want to do," he answered, following my gaze to the weapon that had murdered two of my friends.

"You're not going to punish me?" I asked, trying to hold back the tears.

"Not with Lucille, but I could punish you in another way if you'd like," he smirked, then winked at me.

"I'd rather not have any punishment," I replied, having an idea of what type of punishment he was talking about.

"If you say so," he said with a chuckle.

"So… what did you come to talk to me about?" I asked hesitantly.

"I wanted to get to know you, Emma. You've been here for a month and I know nothing about you. So where are you from?"

"Well, I lived in Kansas before everything went to shit. I was visiting some friends in Atlanta when it started."

"Kansas, huh? That's where that adorable accent comes from," that damn smirk.

I turned my face away, trying to hide the blush that quickly covered my cheeks.

"What did you do before all of this shit?" he questioned.

"Well I had only been out of school for a couple months. I'm only 22. This isn't exactly how I imagined my 20's."

"You're only 20? That's rough. How'd you survive anything?" Negan seemed genuinely surprised.

"I know how to shoot, I can fight, and I'm good at staying hidden." His eyes got wide at my response.

"How well can you fight? Maybe you could be on my team."

"I don't know about that. Hiding has been my number one survival tactic. I don't do well under pressure."

My gaze dropped to the floor, embarrassed about my secret. Negan just seemed more interested in what I was talking about.

"Tell me more," he pushed.

"It's hard to explain. Let's just say that you don't want me anywhere near a herd of walkers if I'm expected to help fight them."

Negan raised his eyebrow, but didn't push any further. We continued talking in my room for what seemed like hours. By the time he got up to leave, the sun had set and it was pitch black outside. He stopped at the door and turned to me.

"Sweet dreams, doll. I'll see you tomorrow."

When my door latched, I laid back on my bed and allowed my mind to race.

What are you thinking? Are you seriously attracted to this guy? No, he's just nice to talk to. He also murdered two of your friends. Yes I know that but I have to be nice. Nice doesn't mean you have to jump on his dick. We were just talking, nothing more. That's what you said about the last guy and he broke your heart after he got in your pants.

When my mind finally calmed down, I was able to drift off into a not-so-peaceful sleep.