I woke up that morning already in a bad mood. Maybe I had slept funny or was tossing and turning again. I wasn't really sure. I kicked my legs over the edge of the bed and stretched, hoping the movement of my muscles would cause an overall feeling of relaxation. It did, but the feeling subsided way too quickly and I cursed softly under my breath. It was going to be a long day.
Then I remembered what day it was.
Valentine's Day.
The dreaded, lovey-dovey holiday for all the romantic couples looking to rub it in everyone's faces that their love is pure and strong. Bleh.
Somehow there was a silver lining to the dead coming back to life because the heart shaped candies and roses were a thing of the past. Now, holidays were a little more toned down, and I kind of preferred that.
I had been living at The Sanctuary for only a few weeks and before that, I hadn't even known what day it was. Little things like that didn't matter when it came to survival. But here, in this world…in his world, I could embrace those little things again. The date. The time. Being safe was a luxury that allowed attention to detail.
But there was a reason I was dreading today, and his name was Negan.
I got up and grabbed a little bag on my nightstand with my toiletries in it and headed out of my room, making my way to the shared women's bathroom down the hall.
God, he had been so persistent. The man had actually had the gall to ask me to marry him on day one. And if that wasn't enough, he had a room overflowing with beautiful women whom he all called his "wives". A collection of dolls, and I was his next prize. Or so he thought.
I reached the community bathroom and found myself in front of a mirror. I felt like a zombie, walking through this routine every single day like I was on autopilot. It felt reminiscent of the time before the walkers, when I had a job and went through the same patterns. The difference now was danger was around every corner and I always had to be on my guard.
Of course I had turned him down. He was ruggedly handsome and I had to admit, those wife perks were tempting…but I had always prided myself on being independent. I planned on keeping it that way and Negan had said he was fine with that, but oh boydid he not give up easily. He would call me up to his office and ask meaningless questions. He brought me along on his supply runs and ordered me to ride with him. He would pat my shoulder after a successful mission and his hand would linger there just a little too long, only to pull it away like it never happened. I often caught his eyes gazing at my body when he thought I wasn't looking. That damned man had no shame; he would just grin and wink.
I brushed my teeth in a tired haze and was thankful that I had the bathroom to myself. I got up earlier than most people because I liked being able to get ready in silence. I brushed my hair quickly, applied deodorant, and stared at my reflection.
I was frustrated that Negan had distracted me again. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about him. His leadership was a bit on the wild side, but the way he demanded respect was impressive. He was beautiful in a dangerous, seductive way. And his wives were with him of their own free will. Clearly he knew how to treat a woman. But I just wasn't willing to give up my independence, even if the man lusting after me was ruggedly handsome.
I washed my face and headed back to my room, thoughts still on our leader when I saw Simon leaning up against my door, waiting for me. I was surprised to see him up so early and noted the bags under his eyes before I even reached him.
"Took you long enough," he grumbled, but smiled to show he was joking. I scoffed at him.
"I was away for like five minutes. Give me a freakin' break."
Simon didn't move from the door and continued leaning against it, eyes taking me in and he didn't say anything. His expression was hard to read.
Finally he spoke. "There's a meeting at noon. Negan wants you there."
"Okay," I simply responded.
Simon stood up straight and stepped to the side, allowing me access to my room. I went to walk past him when I heard his voice.
"Don't be late." He sounded so serious that it made me hesitate. He wasn't one to be so grave.
"When the hell have I ever been late?!" I demanded.
"You've been pushing it lately. Leave a little earlier and give yourself some wiggle room. If you're late, he's going to be pissed."
"He'll live," I said rolling my eyes. Simon examined me, still that serious look on his face.
"You might not," Simon said chuckling, but still his grim expression said what we were both thinking: Negan's temper was unpredictable and he might actually off someone just for being tardy. With that, he turned and headed down the hallway without another word.
I sighed and collected myself before going back into my room. Things had been so much easier back when I had been on my own with no one to answer to. If Negan said jump we would all hop up and down.
I was still in my nightwear, a thin black tank top and green shorts. I quickly undressed and pulled on some jeans and my favorite bra. The heat had been almost unbearable lately, so I opted to keep my black tank top on. After lacing up my combat boots, I examined my bedroom and thought about what I would be doing that day.
Usually my job was scavenging, and I'd set out every day in one of the cars to try and bring back supplies. I was good at it–I'd even left Negan pretty impressed a few times with some of the special items I'd brought back.
I thought back to the time I'd found a semi-truck with the trailer full of bottled water. It had taken four round trips just to bring all of the cases back, but when Negan saw the water he'd been so shocked that I had wished I could have taken a picture of his face. It was only for a single instance before he regained his composure but I had seen his surprised face, and then he had turned to me and looked so proud.
But Simon said there was going to be a meeting, which meant there was a good chance I wasn't scavenging today and had no duties. Simon hadn't given me any orders and I wasn't about to go ask for something to do. I knew Negan would either get pissed or suggest something vulgar.
I was scanning the room when I saw the little desk by my bed and remembered the book I had just bought with my points. It was some teenage fantasy novel I had spotted in the tiny selection of books available in the store and I hated to admit it, but it looked really interesting. I had told myself I'd read it on car rides during long scavenging sessions but right now the urge to just lounge around and soak up the pages was very strong.
Fuck it, I thought, Could use some time off. I grabbed the book and left my room, heading towards the recreation room.
If Negan wanted me before the meeting, he'd find me.
—-
I was curled up on an old couch in the rec room and completely lost in my book. The story was just reaching its climax and I had promised myself two chapters ago that I was going to put down the novel and start making my way to the meeting room.
It had been so long since I had allowed myself to relax. Even living in The Sanctuary, as safe as things were, I hadn't been able to just kick back and let my guard down. Unfortunately, I hadn't been paying close attention to the clock on the wall and I was still very much lost in the book when someone cleared their throat from behind the couch. I jumped up quickly, causing the book to fall to the floor. I spun around with wide eyes to see Negan standing right behind the couch, Lucille draped over his shoulder. The look on his face was one of pure irritation.
Shit…
I swallowed hard and glanced over to the clock on the wall. 12:10 pm. I was supposed to be at that meeting 10 minutes ago. Simon's warning had seemed so silly earlier and like some sick, self-fulfilling prophecy, I had done exactly what he had predicted.
I turned back to Negan, silently wishing he would just evaporate and the hands on the clock would rewind and give me a second chance. It didn't come. Instincts kicking in, I dropped down on a knee before him with my head down, as we had been trained to do in his presence.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His tone wasn't entirely serious and almost sounded lighthearted. I looked up at him, desperately trying to read his face to see if I was actually in trouble or not, but I couldn't tell. I tried to find my voice but he spoke before I had the chance.
"You fucking think you can just blow me off so you can lounge around and read all fucking day?" He raised his eyebrows at me, his face solemn.
"No," I tried my best to sound brave. "I'm really sorry, sir. I lost track of time. It won't happen again."
Negan stared me down for what felt like an eternity before letting out a booming laugh. It caught me off guard and I remained frozen in place on the ground while he roared. He stood there laughing for a few more moments before he gestured at me with Lucille.
"Hot damn, I wish you could see the look on your fucking face! I scared the SHIT outta you, didn't I?" he continued to chuckle as if this was some kind of hilarious joke. "You can stand up now."
I felt my cheeks flush red, but my eyes narrowed and anger took over as I stood back up.
"Fuck you, Negan," I grumbled, leaning down to pick up my book. My words stopped his laughing fit and he set Lucille on the ground, leaning his weight onto the barbed-wire bat.
"Are you offering, doll? Would make for one hell of a Valentine's Day." His grin grew wider.
Of course he knew what day it was. I rolled my eyes at his playful remark.
"Cause if we're not fucking, I highly suggest you get that perfect little ass in gear before I do get pissed off. My men are waiting on us." His demeanor became serious and he shifted his weight back to his feet and headed to the door, but he didn't leave.
I set the book onto the couch, knowing no one would steal it. I followed after him quickly, so thankful he was in a good mood. He was still lingering in the doorway waiting for me.
"Ladies first," he said, gesturing to the door. As we headed out of the rec room, I could feel his presence close behind. He was whistling as I led the way. Negan was in a playful mood, and my thoughts went back to the current holiday.
Maybe he really loved Valentine's Day? Probably meant he got to fuck all his wives. I assumed he'd already gotten laid that morning and this jolly attitude was the result.
Negan's voice distracted me from my thoughts.
"Must have been some real dirty shit for you to lose track of the fucking time. What kind of book were you reading, doll?"
I let out a sigh and chided, "It wasn't a dirty book."
"That's a damn shame. The idea of you reading some kinky shit in my rec room has me half hard right now." We were now nearing his meeting room.
"You're always half hard," I shot back, glancing over my shoulder at him. He was still grinning from ear-to-ear. His eyes met mine and I looked away to see the door we were both headed towards. When I approached it and went to open it, Negan's arm came into my line of vision. He laid his hand against the door, stopping me from turning the knob.
"Only cause you're here." His voice was low and it made me turn again to face him. He was staring down at me, his expression hardened and he was closing the distance between us. He leaned in close and I pressed my body against the door, trapped by him.
"But let me make myself very fucking clear, little girl. Next time I say there's a meeting at noon, you had better be there at noon."
I swallowed and nodded slowly, eyes locked to his. He took another step forward, and he was so close I thought he would hear my pounding heartbeat. His body hovered right above mine and I felt frozen in place. He tilted his head next to my ear.
"Of course, if you were my wife you could lounge around all day and read your little books," he taunted.
Son of a bitch…
He didn't wait for my rebuttal and he reached for the doorknob. I moved my hand quickly away and turned to face the room, just as he opened the door. Inside there were three black couches pushed against the walls and a big wooden table in the center of the room. Folding chairs were lined up around it, and all but two of them were occupied by Negan's men. A few of them sat on the couches against the wall–all of them were staring at me as we entered.
I didn't realize it right away, but the only two chairs left were seated next to one another. I let out a sigh and headed over to the open chair next to the one at the head of the table, the chair I knew was Negan's. I sat down without making eye contact with all of the prying eyes laid upon me. Negan made his way over to the front of the table, but didn't sit down right away–he just stood there, staring at his men.
I knew Simon was directly across the table from me and I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I felt like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I wondered what they all thought about this. Negan usually wouldn't go out of his way to fetch me; he'd usually send one of his men. Why had he bothered?
His voice broke my train of thought as he addressed the room.
"Anyone else want to fucking defy me today?" he said, turning to peer down at me. I stared at the table and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I wondered if Simon was amused that he had been right about my tardiness.
When no one responded and the silence grew thick, I glanced up to see all eyes were still on me. Their silent judgements made me want to get up and flee, but I remained planted in the chair. I finally turned to view Negan, only to see that same amused expression etched onto his face.
He's enjoying this.
I held his gaze and tried my best to appear confident. Losing track of time was an accident–he may be a stickler for the rules but it's not like I blew him off on purpose. This little show he was conducting was supposed to make me feel guilty, but instead I felt anger manifesting the longer his little game went on. Negan might have been in charge and a very intimidating man, but I wasn't about to let him bully me like this.
"No, sir," I responded to him, shocked to hear the defiance in my own voice.
Negan's goading expression switched instantly to a stern one. His gaze lingered a few more moments on me, and I really wished I could read his mind. Then he finally turned away and sat down to face the rest of his men, who were still silently watching the show. Negan was dropping it and I tried my best to hide my smugness.
"What do you got for me, boys?" He kicked his feet up onto the table, his black boots crossing against the polished wood right in front of my face. I sat back a bit more to give myself more room. I didn't think he was doing it to get on my nerves; Negan usually kicked back and made himself comfortable wherever he liked. It was his Sanctuary after all.
"There's a new settlement to the east of us that's been giving us trouble," Simon said matter-of-factly. "We did what you said, but they shot at us last time we tried to visit."
"They'll be out of ammo eventually," One of Negan's men piped in–Greg. I often travelled with his scavenging group. "We took most of it on our last trip but they must have found more or held out on us."
"That shit ain't gonna fly," Negan said, shaking his head. I could see he was getting irritated, but I wasn't sure if it was because of me or that his men hadn't delivered good news considering Negan was definitely the type of guy to shoot the messenger. "Tomorrow we'll head over there and fuckin' teach those sorry sacks not to mess with The Saviors."
His men nodded in agreement. Then I realized this meeting wasn't meant for just scavengers–it was for his little terror squads, too. His groups of men who went out and harassed the holy hell out of other survivors. I knew he meant it when he said he was going to punish those people. I didn't like violence, but these men–his "Saviors"–were now my family. In this new world, it was kill or be killed. I knew it had to be done.
Negan turned to me now. "And what about my scavenging team? What have you found for me lately? Other than a few dirty books…." He smiled like a snake and I elected to ignore his jeer.
"There's a small town we're still ransacking. We found some weapons, little bit of food, and some stuff for the store." I looked him right in the eye as I answered him.
"There was a little boutique that was almost completely untouched," Greg added. "Had tons of jewelry and clothes."
"Speaking of which, what did you bastards get your ladies for Valentine's Day?"
Here we go….
"Greggy, I bet you got something real fucking nice for that smoking hot wife of yours." He kicked his legs off the desk and leaned forward. Greg nodded, smiling slightly.
"Yes, sir. I got her some earrings she's had her eyes on for a while." He sounded proud of himself.
"Fuck yeah! Jewelry?! That's the best way to get a lady to open her legs for you! Not that you have that problem with her, huh, Greg?"
"No, sir," Greg answered.
"What about you, Simon? Got any new lady friends?" Negan turned to his right-hand man.
This is ridiculous…
Before Simon could open his mouth, I let out a sigh that ended up being just a little bit louder than expected. Negan turned, squinting his eyes at me again.
"What's your fucking problem?!"
"Nothing." I looked down, not wanting to get into it with him again. But he wasn't ready to let this go.
"No, it's not fucking 'nothing.' I heard that little huff. What's got your fucking panties in a bunch?"
I didn't say anything, hoping my choice of silence would amuse him enough. It was the exact opposite of what he wanted.
"I asked you a question, doll. Or is your head still lost in that dirty little story of yours?"
That did it–that stupid little jab was enough to send me over the edge. I was sick of taking his shit. My rage was consuming me and before I could think it through, I scooted the chair back and challenged him.
"I thought we were having a real meeting here, not bragging about banging our women and talking about this stupid ass holiday."
"Someone's pissy," Negan snickered. "Not in the Valentine's Day spirit?" He was coaxing me into continuing my rant, and it was working. I was too far gone to care.
"What's the point?!" I almost shouted it. "This stupid holiday is so pointless! There are no chocolates and flowers anymore–there's the dead and the living. We have bigger matters to talk about than sitting here gossiping like school girls."
I could have cut the silence with a knife. Everyone was frozen, not sure how to react to my sudden outburst. Even Negan was quiet at first. But if he was stunned by my rant, he wasn't about to show it–he appeared more amused than anything.
"You know what I think…" He finally spoke, his voice like ice, "I think you're jealous."
"Of what?!" My voice jumped an octave and any fear I had of him was drowned out by my irritation. "Of that little harem you have?"
Negan didn't let my comment bother him. Instead, he continued. "I offered you to be my wife and you said no. It's not my fault you're lonely."
"I'm not lonely!" I shouted. The way he was addressing me, being so calm and serious, added fuel to the fire. This game was his–he was in complete control and I knew it. But I wasn't about to sit back down and let him have this. Hell no.
"Just because I'm not sitting on a dick doesn't mean I'm fucking lonely!"
The room may have been filled with his men, but in that moment it felt like it was just the two of us. I didn't care if they saw me freak out,I just wanted him to get it through his thick skull that I was NOT lonely.
"It's probably the lack of dick that's got you so uptight." Negan leaned back in his chair, taking me in with delight in his eyes. He knew just the right things to say to continue to push this. He knew he had won but wasn't done yet. "Maybe if you got laid you wouldn't be so fucking angry about a holiday, doll."
I didn't know how to respond. I clenched my fists and glared at him. He took the opportunity to jab again.
"Besides, it's not like anyone loves you on any other fucking day of the year.."
My breath hitched in my throat.
He waited for me to make my next remark, but I felt that initial rush of adrenaline fueled anger start to die down and tears start to form in my eyes. Like hell I was going to cry in front of him and his men.
I stood up from my chair and went to turn away, but for a solid instant I saw Negan's taunting expression turn into one of concern. He had seen the water forming in my eyes. Now the game was truly over.
He didn't say anything and the deafening silence was torturous. I didn't stand around to let it settle; instead, I hurried out of the meeting room and down the hall just as the tears started to fall. I didn't care that I was walking out of his meeting, I just needed to get the hell out of there.
I really didn't know where that pent up anger had come from. Maybe Negan was right. Not about the lack of sex, but that I was lonesome. I didn't have any friends at the Sanctuary and I'd lost all of my loved ones to the apocalypse.
His words had cut because they were the truth. I didn't just dread Valentine's Day; every holiday, every little reminder of the time from before was painful. These were days we celebrated with loved ones and mine were dead.
I made it back to my bedroom and shut the door in a haste. Once inside, I slid my back against the closed door and when I reached the floor, I pulled my knees to my chest, curling up tight and allowed myself to cry.
He's right. I am alone.
—
Hours later I woke up to a loud knock on my door. Earlier I had gotten off the floor after I let myself have a good cry, then had curled up in bed under the covers. I wasn't sure how long I'd been sleeping, but the sudden noise had me jolting upright.
"Yeah?" I croaked, sitting up further and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I didn't get a response, so I headed over to the door and opened it to find Negan standing in front of me, Lucille draped over his shoulder. He was looking down at me with that concerned expression I had only seen a glimpse of before.
"Hi," he spoke softly, as if his words could shatter me. "Are you okay?"
I turned away, ashamed. I couldn't stand to keep the eye contact anymore. I had made a fool of myself back there and I felt blood rush to my face as embarrassment hit.
"Yeah, I'm good," I mumbled, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry I left the meeting."
He didn't say anything which made me feel like I had to look at him. When I did, I could see he was as uncomfortable as I was. Negan and I had always bullshitted back and forth. I had never snapped like today. This was new territory for us.
He shifted his weight and pushed back his dark hair. "I have a few more things I want to go over with you, if that's alright." His entire demeanor was so unlike his usual self. Instead of commanding me, he was asking.
I nodded and he gestured to the hallway, then waited for me to come out of my room. I wanted so badly to jump back into bed and hide away under the covers, but my feet moved forward and I left my little safe haven.
We walked in silence side by side down the hallway; I realized we were headed back to the meeting room. I thought back to my episode from before, when all of his men had watched me explode at Negan. What had they thought of it? Surely Negan had laughed it off. He had probably told them he was going to punish me later for stomping out of the meeting.
Oh god…he's gonna punish me.
That thought alone should have been enough to stop me dead in my tracks, and yet I kept moving forward with him. My mind raced and I started to feel dizzy.
I hadn't even thought about that. Negan didn't like hurting women and that's why he was acting so weird. He was going to have to make an example of me in front of his men to assert his dominance.
I started shaking and tried my best to control it. We reached the door and I thought I was going to faint. Would he bash my head in with Lucille, or burn my face with the dreaded iron? Or did he have something else sinister in mind?
Negan wasn't looking at my petrified face as he opened the door and waited for me to go in. I entered the room and couldn't help but gasp.
The meeting room was now completely clad in Valentine's Day decorations. Paper hearts strung together were hanging from the ceiling along with gold and white string lights. A red tablecloth was neatly draped over the wood table and rose petals had been sprinkled over it randomly. Different sized candles were set around the room with their little flickering lights beaming brightly. Towards the front of the table, in front of the spot where we had both sat earlier was a metal pot, steam coming up from it. Two china plates sat in front of his chair and the chair I had occupied from before. Silverware was laid neatly and two glasses sat upside down next to a bottle of red wine.
I was still gawking at the scene before me just as the scent of pasta hit me. I stifled a moan, my stomach growling in harmony. I wanted so badly to go see what was inside the pot, but instead I turned to Negan.
"What is this?" The question seemed more rude than I had meant for it to. I knew exactly what this was but I didn't understand why. What the hell was he doing?
"An apology," he said, gently setting Lucille down against the door and moving past me towards the table. "The spaghetti is gonna get cold. Come sit down."
He didn't wait for me and headed over to the front of the table, pulling both my chair and his out. He sat down and picked up the pasta spoon, serving us both. I watched from over by the door, still frozen in place as the noodles hit the plate. All it took was the sight of pasta and I felt my body move before I even willed it to. I practically floated over to the table.
I sat down next to him and watched as he picked up a fork, expertly twirling the pasta around before taking a bite. He leaned back and closed his eyes while chewing. He swallowed and grinned.
"That is some really good shit!" He declared.
I stared at my plate, paralyzed in my seat. I had no idea what was happening. Who made the spaghetti? Who decorated the room? Certainly not him. No way Negan did all this on his own.
He took another bite and watched me with peering eyes. I gulped and tried to speak.
"Negan, I–"
"Holy hell, woman, would you just try the damn spaghetti?" His words weren't demanding, more pleading. He took another bite of his and savored it.
I picked up my fork and did as I was told. The moment the sauce hit my tongue I felt my stomach growl loud–loud enough that I knew Negan could hear.
"I knew you'd be hungry," he said, leaning back in his chair and watching me intently as I chewed. He was right, it was really good spaghetti.
I felt like I couldn't look at him, so I stared at my plate as we both ate in silence for a while. At first it was awkward and almost unbearable, but as time went on it actually felt kind of comforting. It would have been really nice if Negan hadn't continued to watch me the entire time.
Halfway through the meal, Negan reached across for the already opened bottle of wine and took off the loose cork. He flipped both our glasses over and poured.
"I don't think you hate Valentine's Day." His voice almost made me jump when he broke the silence. I finally willed myself to meet his gaze. He was studying me with soft eyes. It wasn't like him at all–he was so concerned and serious, but not the threatening leader I had come to know. This man seemed to genuinely care about my well being.
"I think you're lonely. And you don't have to be."
I watched him set the wine glass down in front of my plate and before I could react his hand reached over and lightly touched mine.
I looked down at his large hand, only to find that it was caressing mine. I didn't pull away and he continued to hold it.
"Contrary to what this fucking looks like, I'm not trying to get in your pants. You know how I feel about you. Fuck, I haven't exactly been shy about that shit. But I know you don't have anyone here in my Sanctuary. At least, you don't think you do."
I was still watching his hand on mine as I listened to him, so fixated on his words. I felt like I was in a dream world–in a trance. I had to still be sleeping in bed, and this was all a made-up fantasy crafted to help me cope from my humiliating outburst earlier. I wouldn't have accepted this as my reality if it wasn't for his calloused hand gently sliding over my fingers. It felt nice.
"Look at me, doll."
I did as he requested and faced him. I felt the tears forming, but I willed myself not to cry. I had already made a fool of myself once today.
"You don't have to be alone anymore." His expression was so gentle, so concerned for the fragile thing that was me sitting before him. I couldn't help it. I felt a few tears fall down onto my lap; I wanted to turn away so bad and hide my shame.
His hand squeezed mine. "Fuck honey, I didn't mean to make you cry." His hand left mine and grabbed a red folded, cloth napkin off the table and leaned across to wipe my tears.
That's when I pulled away. This wasn't me. I was his strong scavenger, not this broken shell of a human being crying over pasta. I didn't want him caring after me like this. His words had stung earlier but that was something I came to expect from Negan. This wasn't.
"I'm sorry." I felt my voice crack a little bit. I took the napkin from his offering hand and dabbed at my eyes. God, how embarrassing.
"Don't be." He twirled more spaghetti noodles and took another bite. I watched him chew before he continued. "I know what you lost before you came here. I'm not gonna make you do shit you don't wanna do, but my offer still stands. I think you'd make one hell of a sexy wife."
His gentleness was subsiding and Negan's cocky attitude was taking its place. I couldn't help but let out a sigh. He had said this wasn't what it seemed, and perhaps he had intended for it to be an apology, but it was also absolutely an attempt to woo me.
"You wouldn't have to scavenge anymore, wouldn't have to fucking work for points or deal with assholes anymore. Just have to put up with this asshole." He gestured to himself grinning widely. "I'd treat you like a fucking queen."
I didn't know what to say. I knew how I felt and what I wanted, but the words were struggling to form. He had me trapped again. I laid my fork down, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore. My stomach had knots forming in it knowing this next part wasn't going to come easy.
"Thank you for this. Really. This was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." I looked right into his eyes as I spoke, hoping I sounded as sincere as I meant to. "But I can't marry you, Negan."
"Why the fuck not?" He said it so simply, but I could hear the frustration in his voice. He was used to getting what he wanted. I would have to pick my next words carefully.
"I love it here. You've created this new world order, and for the first time since the dead came back to life I feel safe. The Sanctuary is my home. I want to contribute to it and help; I want to be necessary."
Negan didn't say anything at first, and his eyes studied me carefully. We sat like that for a few moments and I swallowed hard.
"I'm never going to make you do something you don't want, doll. You know that. But I haven't been able to get you out of my fucking head since you came here. Do you know how hard it is to work with you when you fucking look like that?" His eyes trailed down my body and he bit his lip. I looked down at my black tank top and wondered if I should have maybe worn something else.
"And I know you feel something too," he continued and before I knew it, his hand was on my leg. I stared down at it, unsure of how to respond. That knot in my stomach was building and then I realized it was lower. I was getting turned on and he knew it.
"The world has changed. I've made it mine, but it can be yours too. It's whatever you want it to be."
I shifted in my chair and he pulled his hand away. I half expected him to pounce, but I stopped him before he could make his next move.
"The world hasn't changed, the people have." My words caught him off guard, but he sat back in his chair silently listening, allowing me to continue. "I don't just mean the dead coming back. We've had to become something else to survive. We had to adapt and some of it isn't for the better." I knew arguing with him wasn't the smartest choice here but he had been sincere with me tonight. Returning my thoughts and feelings seemed like the honest thing to do at this point.
"Like you, for example. You have risen up to be a leader, but I feel like it costs you. I don't think you were this way before the walkers. No one is the same as they were before. We've done horrible things to survive…" I trailed off, not wanting to insult him in any way. He was still leaning back as he took me in, seeming amused.
"Survival is beautiful." He appeared to be choosing his words carefully too. "The only fucking way to achieve it is through violence and bloodshed. If you want to live, to really fucking live in this new world, you'll do whatever it takes. If we're talking about making logical decisions here, than you'd already be my wife."
Of course he would tie it back to that.
"But marriage shouldn't be a logical decision, even now. It should be something done out of passion when two people feel a deep connection and want to spend their lives together." I don't know why I was so set on convincing him. He had a handful of wives; I was convinced he couldn't possibly love all of them. His intentions seemed purely out of lust. Did this man even allow himself to fall in love anymore?
I watched a cocky grin spread on Negan's face. "See? I knew you were a bigger fan of love and all this Valentine's Day bullshit than you let on, doll."
He got me there. I had been too focused on trying to make my argument on what marriage should mean and I had forgotten my cynicism about all things romance. Perhaps it was being in his presence, or sitting in a candle lit room and the aroma of pasta and rose petals overwhelming me, but it all had taken its toll. I felt my cheeks turn pink and I smiled sheepishly.
"Jesus, you look so fucking beautiful when you do that." He sat up and leaned towards me, eyes locked on mine. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Negan wanted me. He was so powerful, so perfect, and in that moment I wondered why I didn't just say yes. He was right–there was a connection that had been there since day one–I wanted him, too. Now more than ever. Seeing this romantic side, this human side of Negan, had awakened something in me. I felt like we were meeting for the first time, and being able to just talk and cry with him was so nice. It was tempting to say yes to his proposal.
I was about to open my mouth when Negan slid his chair back away from the table.
"Well if you're finished eating, we should probably call it a night." I nodded at him and slid my chair back as well, standing up from the table. We headed to the door and I almost reached it when I decided I should probably thank him again. His efforts hadn't been in vain. I had seen a new side of him that I wanted to see more of, and I hoped this wouldn't be our last shared meal together.
When I turned around he was finishing off the glass of wine at the table.
"Thank you for the lovely meal. I really appreciate it.." I tried my best to smile sweetly at him.
Negan set the glass down and walked towards me. I felt my heart skip a beat and froze in place.
Grinning from ear-to-ear, he approached me slowly, stopping right before he was in my personal space. "If you were really thankful, you'd kiss the cook."
I narrowed my eyes at him. There was no way in hell he made the spaghetti. I wasn't about to let him make me think he had.
"So which of your men do I get to smooch?" I playfully shot at him.
Negan's brow furrowed and he actually seemed to be affected by my banter. "Contrary to popular belief, doll, I'm not just good at running the show and fucking. I also know my way around a kitchen."
I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. The image of Negan slaving over a hot stove to make dinner was amusing, but also kind of a turn on. Knowing he didn't just force someone to do it and had taken it upon himself to at the least cook the meal was kind of cute.
I hadn't even finished laughing when, before I knew it, Negan was pulling me into his arms. He held me there for a few moments, hesitant. He didn't want to make the next move, and I wasn't sure I wanted to either. We both stood there, his arms wrapped low around me, pulling me into his tall frame.
I felt suspended in time in that moment with all the pros and cons spilled out before us. I couldn't be his wife. But I wanted him. I didn't want to give up being his scavenger, but I could no longer deny my attraction to him. He had done all of this–the dinner, opening himself up to me to show me how he felt. Did it really have to be so complicated?
No, it doesn't.
Before I lost my chance, I leaned up into him and my lips met his softly. I could feel the stubble from his beard lightly scratching my face and it tickled in a good way. Everything else seemed to disappear as I felt him kiss me back. His tongue slowly pressed in, deepening the kiss. I felt it slowly slide into my mouth and caress mine, and I let my instincts take over. I moved my arms around his neck, and felt as he pulled me even closer to him, his hands gripping my waist tightly.
We continued kissing passionately and I let out a loud gasp when his mouth moved away from mine and started trailing kisses down the side of my face to my neck. He kissed and sucked gently at first, but it became rougher–needier. One hand gripped his shoulder tightly and the other moved to his hair and slid it into his dark locks. The feeling made him slightly bite down onto my skin and I closed my eyes, moaning out, wanting so much more.
My little noises continued until he moved his mouth from my neck, and I knew there would be a mark later. His lips returned to mine and I welcomed him wantonly. I could taste the spices from the pasta and the sugary rich wine. It all added to the delicious flavor that was Negan. I felt like I was drowning from the scent, the taste and feel of him.
The knot in me tightened even more. When he pulled away I couldn't help but let out a whine. I didn't want this to be over. It couldn't end. I looked into his eyes. He had me right where he wanted. Why was he stopping?!
Negan chuckled darkly, "You taste better than my spaghetti."
"I was just thinking the same thing," I purred, and moved my body as close as I could to his. I could feel how hard he was getting, and it turned me on more. I leaned in again, hoping to continue where we left off, but he moved his finger over my lips and stopped me. I frowned.
"If you want this, you'll say yes," he taunted, rubbing against me. I could feel his thick member press against my abdomen and it was too much. I let out a groan and looked up at him, silently pleading.
"But I have a feeling that you'd say yes to anything right now. And as badly as I want to lay you on that table and fuck your brains out, I'm not going to." He let me go and took a step away. I shivered. He couldn't possibly leave me like this. My brain felt like utter mush and I just started at him so confused.
"Negan–" I heard myself say, but I didn't sound like me. My voice was shaky and low. I was begging.
He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, relishing the sound of me whimpering his name. We both wanted this. I couldn't fathom why he would stop.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, and for a moment I thought he was going to pull me back in. But it didn't happen. Instead we looked at one another and he smiled down at me.
"Sleep on it." His words were a command and he followed up with a taunt. "If you can…" With that, he grabbed Lucille, who had been leaning against the door during the meal, swung her over his shoulder and left.
I stood there without moving for a long time, trying to jumpstart my brain. I couldn't even process everything that had just happened. The dinner, the kiss…. and how if he had asked me again after that intense embrace I would have agreed to be his wife. The man had left me in a giant pool of desire. I looked around the room debating what to do next. I wanted so badly to go to him. If I went up to his room, would he turn me away? How had he been able to walk away in the middle of our fervent juncture?
I don't know how long I stood in the meeting room staring off into space while debating my options, but I finally decided to take his advice. Too much had happened and I needed to get my thoughts together. Before leaving the room, I turned and took one last glance at the pretty decorations and the two dinner plates next to one another. I felt a smile form on my face and I headed back to my room.
