Negan remembers the first time that he saw Tristan. She was staring him straight in his eyes surrounded by men from all walks of life. Proud, yet regal like a queen with her head held high. It's amazing how she held on to that air even after the apocalypse. Her dark brown eyes with long dark hair braided hanging down her back. Negan couldn't help, but smile. He remembered that she would not kneel easily. When she did, it was a sight to see. Made him imagine what she would like beneath him on her knees, kneading his balls and licking the tip of his cock. Fuck….
"Tristan," he says walking towards her from the right side. She follows him with her eyes. "How are you the most capable person out here? A chick for God's sake." The five other men remain stoic and silent accept for Ronan. "We are here," he says to Negan, "on our way to look for supplies."
'Really?" Negan paces back and forth amused. He swings his bat that he named Lucille after his late wife back and forth. "Well, what did me fucking say about being ready at all times?" he continues.
"I know and I'm sorry, but it was not my fault," Ronan says. He gulps then nudges his head towards Tristan. "She came up with the idea to leave the settlement to look for something better than the supplies that we have." Initiative, Negan thinks to himself. That's my girl.
"Is that so," Negan strokes his beard as he comes to stand in front of her. She looks him in the eye waiting for him to speak to her with no fear in her eyes. "So, you took it upon yourself to rat her out?" Negan replies moving over to stand over him and points Lucille into his face. "Hmm?" He takes two steps backward.
He stares everyone in the eyes. From the tall motherfucker on the left to the scrawny red head on the right trembling. Each person glancing at Ronan with contempt particularly Tristan. "Simon and Gavin snatch Ronan him up and pull him forward." Just like all victims do Ronan begged for his life. He insisted that it should be Tristan. That bitch is what he called her. Though the corners of Negan's lips curved up into a smile, his eyes narrowed. The thing is that he had no intention of hurting one hair on her pretty little head. Ronan was a slippery fuck. He tried to short change the pickups little by little. One missing apple here. A quarter less of a pound of greens. He's the main reason Negan had to come out of the sanctuary. Even though he wasn't annoyed that he was getting another chance to see Tristan.
"Tristan," he says standing with his legs a width apart. Lucille, he holds by her handle with both hands. He raises the bat then says, "This is not your fault." She appears puzzled watching him lift the bat above his head. It doesn't take effort to lower it down on Ronan's head. Negan makes it seem almost effortless. The other men whimper in the background, one of which gags. Tristan's eyes remain on him watching it all. Ronan's head cracks open sending blood splatters on everyone kneeling behind him.
Negan allows the body to fall forward. He continues crushing what's left of the skull and brain matter that has spilled out onto the ground. Again and again and again until, he stops to catch his breath. He chuckles as he backs up the walks around the body. Dark red blood dripping down from the bottom of the bat which has small chunks of flesh tangled in the barbs. By this time, Tristan's face stained with blood droplets and tears. "Let this be a lesson to you. Everything at Violet Rose better be in fucking order when my men make another trip." He addressed Tristan only to declare that she is in charge now.
That happened six months ago. Now Negan stands in an office awaiting the arrival of the leader. Waiting is something that always manages to piss him off. As soon as the door opens Negan's ready to go off. But, he turns around and see Tristan. "I apologize," she says, "I was out on a run for supplies." He eyes her from head to toe with a fixed gaze. "Still fucking beautiful," he says. This time Tristian dresses in all black from her sweatshirt down to her leggings and boots.
"Still the same charmer," Tristan replies raising her eyebrows. She walks towards her desk then takes a seat in her chair. The one with a tall back that Ronan picked out specifically for himself. 'What brings you to Violet Rose," she asks.
"I missed you." He smiles revealing his pearly white teeth. "Out of all the settlements that I deal with yours gives me the least bit of a problem. All thanks to you, Tristan." He licks his lips then asks her to remind him how long that she has been in power. "A little over six months," she says leaning forward with her elbows on the desk.
"Hot damn! It's about time," Negan says with a chuckles.
Tristan smiles resting her chin on her hand. "It's a position that I didn't want to take, but you appointed me so, I could not say no." A leader who is beautiful smart, capable and dear I say humble," he says. One that if he could he'd fuck every which way in this room. On the floor. The desk…everywhere. "We need to discuss a few matters involving fucking milk."
"What's wrong with it," she says, "I will talk to Kyle and Brock. We have three good cows and seven calves."
"Nothing is wrong," he says, "And now that you mention it, we will need one of your calves and a cow." Tristan agrees hoping that this will make him leave. She had work to do dealing with the bickering in the butcher area and a weevil infestation in the garden. He decides to spend the night. A request which makes everyone uneasy, especially Tristan.
Later that evening, after she showered someone knocked at her door. Not one to be modest, she told the person to come in as she pulled a shirt over her head. "Well, would you look here," Negan says, "I will admit that my six wives are hot, but none of them compare to you." Though, she notices him eyeing her, she asks if everything is alright. She is sure to call him, sir. A formal greeting. Hopefully, Negan will take a damn hint. But, she knows better. Nope. Not a chance.
He stands leaning in the doorway flanked by another man who is a little shorter and on the heavy side. "Tell me, Tristan," he says with a smile, "there are quite a few guys here in this settlement. Not one is good enough for you?" She raises one eyebrow and says, "How is that any of your business?"
"I'm curious." He shrugs his shoulders and licks his lips.
"I don't feel comfortable talking about this," She says. Negan enters the room then draws closer. She neither flinches not looks away. Deep down, her heart pounds against her ribcage. "I didn't ask if you wanted to answer my question," he says. "I want to know the fucking answer."
She sighs. "I have neither the time nor the patience to entertain anyone. Let alone sleep with them." This had to be Negan's way of weaseling his way into the conversation. Tristan never heard of him putting his hands on a woman. That did not stop him from intimidating them or in this case her. Those hazel eyes of his remain on her lips. "Good girl," he says in a husky tone. "One day soon I want you to visit me." He moves her braid over her shoulder brushing her cheek. "You want me to visit you at the sanctuary," she asks. A place she's only heard about.
"Yes, as a guest," he says. "This way we can get more acquainted." Negan's idea of getting more acquainted means sex. If not the full act then the trimmings without an actual meal. Though, she was not fully innocent that did not mean that she wanted that or him.
He kisses her cheeks with soft lips and whispers, "Plus, I want to see you in nothing, but those panties." Tristan bit her tongue so hard that she could taste her own blood only for the settlement's sake. What she really wanted to say to him was fuck off. That arrogant smile on his face as he walked backwards a few steps. Overconfident, pompous ass, but one wrong move or look would cost lives. One of which might be her own. So, she swallows her pride and says, "I will be honored to visit the Sanctuary." A lie of course, but all apart of playing the damn game. In reality, she will go over to see it. Other than that, Negan will not get his way. She watches him leave with that swagger. He acts as if he won. He didn't, but every good leader understands it's not about the battle. That war is far more important.