Updated: 1/1/19
Chapter Two:
Avery frowned as she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress she was wearing was a little too tight for her liking, but her mother had insisted she wear it. It was gold with a bunch of fringe hanging loose all over, not something Avery would have picked out herself.
Negan will appreciate it, her mother had said over and over the entire evening.
Avery huffed and her mother, who stood behind her curling her dark brown hair, took notice.
"That attitude better change before you leave this room," she stated harshly.
She curled three more pieces before sitting the curling iron down on the vanity table. Her mother then placed her warm palms on Avery's bare shoulders, their eyes connecting in the mirror.
"Don't let us down," she said, her stare saying more than her simple words ever could. "We're counting on you."
Avery's throat closed up, the weight of this burden beginning to be hard to handle.
She squeezed Avery's shoulders before saying, "Now go."
Avery stood, heart in her chest, and left the room without a word. Within seconds she was standing before her father's study, the closed double doors looming before her. They were a tether between her past and future, the doors, for when she stepped through life as she knew it would change forever.
Deep laughter came muffled from behind the closed doors, and Avery had to keep reminding herself to breathe. She placed her hand on the golden handle, it was now or never, and she walked into the study.
The first person she saw was her younger brother, Carl. He stood as still as a statue behind their father, hands clasped behind his back. He wore an expensive suit, and his long hair was pulled into a low hanging ponytail. He looked nothing like the young eighteen-year-old he had been when she'd seen him last, over ten years ago. His brow was knit tightly together as he stared over at her. Avery wanted to run over to him and throw her arms around his neck, but this was neither the time or the place.
Michonne stood next to Carl, close to their father as well. Her full lips were pinched together tightly as she attempted to keep her calm while her eyes combed over Avery's attire. By the looks of it, she didn't approve either.
"Avery," her father said from his seat on the leather couch, his deep southern accent drawing her attention. "I'm glad you could finally make it."
Avery knew she was only five minutes late, but she kept quiet as her peripheral vision begin picking up movement on the left, over by the lit fireplace. She blinked and swallowed down the terror that started crawling up her spine. Her father stood from his seat and came forward.
"You look stunning," he said appreciatively.
When he was before her, her father reached over and moved a piece of hair that had fallen forward behind her shoulder. He then placed his hand on the small of her back and led her over toward the three men in the corner of the room.
The closest man to them, the youngest of the three, bore a nasty scar upon the side of his face, and Avery quickly averted her eyes away from him and over toward the other man, who was also standing near. This man was quite older, and underneath the dark mustache, he wore a sneer that sent chills down to Avery's high-heeled covered toes. As her father led her forward, his hand still on her back, the two men moved out of the way revealing a man sitting down in one of the plush chairs that sat next to the fireplace. It was Negan. She recognized him immediately. Avery's heart began to slam hard against her ribs as her father pushed her to stand before this stranger in between his opened knees.
With proudness in his voice, her father said, "This is Avery, my eldest daughter."
Negan eyed Avery with his dark eyes. From head to toe, he examined her, and she tried her best to keep it together. Besides the crackling of the fire in the hearth, the room was silent. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kept his eyes trained on her. Avery found she couldn't look away either. Fear was keeping her eyes locked on him.
"Maybe you two would like a moment alone to get acquainted," her father offered.
After a moment, Negan pulled his eyes away from Avery and looked over at her father, almost begrudgingly.
"Yes," he said, "I would like that."
Michonne quickly gripped the hilt of her katana and quietly asked her father if she should stay in the room with them. Avery's heart soared with hope, but it was quickly shot down when her father only shook his head. Michonne offered Avery a small sentimental smile that clearly said she was sorry she couldn't stay by her side.
It took just seconds for them to file out of the room and when the door finally closed behind the last person, it took everything Avery had not to turn around and run crying from the room like a little girl, wanting her father to save her from this man. Though her father was the one who gave her away. . .
Negan was silent for a long time, still eyeing her from his seat. Avery was tempted to pull down on her skirt and take a step back, but he spoke before she could move, rooting her to the spot.
"I have something for you," he said, his deep voice echoing throughout the room.
He reached into his suit's coat pocket, pulled out a small black box and stood. He was very close, and Avery stared up at him as he opened the box in his hands. Avery's mind suddenly went blank as he pulled out a diamond ring. Negan replaced its carrier back within his coat pocket and then held out the ring expectantly toward her. Avery nervously lifted a shaky hand, and he slipped the ring onto her finger.
"Th...Th-Thank you," she stammered out, feeling obliged to say.
"You're welcome," he said smoothly.
Negan then turned and offered Avery his arm. She took it, and he led her out of the study and down the long hall toward the dining room, with surprising accuracy, as if he'd been here plenty of times before. He was silent the whole time.
When the two stepped into the dining room together, the group that was sitting at the table immediately stood. Each man and woman (aside from Judith who was having to be physically restrained by Michonne in the far corner) stared over at the new couple with reverence.
It was her father who picked up his glass of champagne and lifted it in the air.
"There's no stronger bond than family."
Everyone followed suit, lifting their glasses to complete the toast.
