Rick pressed himself against Negan's warm body and looked at the sleeping sociopath. He never realized how lovely he looked until now. He didn't know why he hadn't killed him yet. He should be stabbing a knife into his head right now but something about this felt so...right. His hand had a mind of it's own as it stroked Negan's face gently and trailed down to his chest. Chocolate brown eyes met icy blue and he smiled slightly. "Hi," he said quietly.
"Hi," Negan murmured. "Can't sleep?" Rick didn't respond as a tiny voice in his head shrieked at him to end the bastard's life. He felt Negan nuzzle him and his smile widened feeling his gentle kiss on his forehead. "I love you." He wished he could say the same thing, but he knew that it would be a lie. Was it a lie? He wasn't sure since he was enjoying the moment.
He was somewhat disappointed to see Michonne sleeping beside him and not Negan when he awoke from his dream. Why? Why was he missing the crazy whore that made his life hell? He had expecting peace after they'd killed him, but now it was the complete opposite. Everywhere he went, someone or something would always remind him of Negan. Whether it was the fact someone cursed often or just finding some random piece of old rusted barbed wire in his backyard, it always brought the memory of Negan with it. It was as if he was haunting Rick as a sort of revenge for killing him.
Most of the time he found himself longing for his company when he was alone. Perhaps it was because he was around him most of the time that made him wish he was here to annoy the hell out of him. Though he hated to admit it, he missed it when Negan called him a stupid little prick. It was something he had grown used to and hearing someone else say "stupid little prick" sounded so... he just wanted to smack them in the face. Oh, and that smile. Ugh, why did he miss that too? It made no sense! Then there were the pet names. Rick never understood why he missed that so much either. Maybe it was the way he said it that made him enjoy hearing it in his head now. It had gotten to the point where Rick was beginning to imitate Negan's walk. Why the hell had he even paid attention to the way he walked? It was something he questioned on a daily basis and he hated himself for that. Often he feared that one day he'd be just like him: a psychotic whore. He made a promise to himself that he would never be like that crazy son of a bitch. But then again, the two had similarities. If there were a deity that created mankind, Rick assumed that they were going to make him and Negan siblings but was all like, "Fuck it," and tossed them into random women's stomach because they'd eventually meet one day and try to kill each other. Or maybe, said deity wanted them to be friends and was like, "Let's make them kill each other's friends because why not?" That was probably what writers did when they wanted their characters to go through hell. Maybe. Rick closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless slumber.