Last night was...I can't even begin to explain it. Just fucking amazing. I don't know if it's because I'm pleased with the events that occurred or if I'm pleased that I took control again. I'd been spiraling out of control for so long. I'd lost myself, fell into the same depression I'd had when William left. Something had to give. And I got pissed. And it was fucking awesome...

After my confusing conversation with Dwight I headed back upstairs, mulling over his last words. Don't fear the reaper? Like the song? Or was that a threat? It didn't feel like a threat. But the only association I could come up with was Rick...

But I wasn't allowed to think about Rick. I wasn't allowed to have feelings anymore. I wasn't allowed to do anything. The more I stepped into the shared living quarters the more annoyed I got. And I fueled myself on it, because anger was better than the nothingness I'd been feeling as of late.

My anger carried me all the way to Negan's door, the light still coming under the door. I lifted my hand to knock and stopped myself, thinking, fuck this. So I did what I always do when I'm mad. I made a rash decision and I just pushed the door open. A thousand things could have happened. He could have been asleep. He could have been butt ass naked with another wife.

Instead, I walked in on him eating his dinner. I didn't let the relief show on my face. But I was glad he'd been alone.

He paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth and glared at me. "The fuck do you think you're doing?"

At that point I'd shut the door behind me, never dropping his stare as I stalked over to him. The table was set for two.

"Hot date?" I asked sarcastically.

"Waiting on fucking Dwight to get back from the fucking outposts. He's fucking late. What-"

I snorted over him. Hm, so Dwight hadn't come up to him. Someone was going to be in big fucking trouble.

He slammed the spoon down into the bowl and narrowed his eyes. "Doll, I said what the fuck-"

I put my fingers on his lips, cutting him off. "Shut the fuck up."

He bristled, but I kneed up onto his lap, straddling his thighs, looking down at him, my hair falling in my eyes. His hands grasped my hips, and the air between us positively crackled.

"I am so fucking angry at you, Joe."

"Is that fucking so?" he snarled as he dug his fingertips in, hard enough to leave bruises. Delicious bruises.

"Yes. And now we're going to have hot angry hate sex. And then you're going to stop being a jerk off. Or I will leave."

I wasn't sure where that had come from, but as I spoke it, I knew it was true. I couldn't take living like that any longer. Can't...

"You can't leave. My men won't let you."

I smiled at him, Dwight's words replaying in my head. "There is more than one way to leave Joe. I can leave without ever fucking walking out of this building."

His eyes widened and his hands shot up to my shoulders. And there it was, the exact concern I'd been looking for, silently begging for.

He was quick to put his mask back on, but I'd already seen it. "Are you fucking-"

"-I don't want to, but if you keep this up, I will. Why? Because I'm fucking tired. Because I love you and I want you. And I will have you. Because if I go through with it, Joe, you'll never be the same again. I fucking guarantee it," I'd whispered in his ear, nibbling on his lobe when I'd finished.

"That's fucking manipulative as fuck," he said, letting his hands drop to my backside.

I laughed. "Oh, I know. I learned from the best...From you."

His eyes were glittery, steely, cold and yet dancing and intrigued at the same time. It was exhilarating and thrilling and so very very bad. I fucking loved it. Would I go through with my threat? I don't know. I really don't. Probably.

"Kiss me," I demanded.

"You kiss me."

"Oh no, that's not how this works, Joe. You fucking kiss me. You do as I say."

"Fat fucking chance, doll," he whispered and slid an arm underneath me as he stood. I hung off his neck as he walked me to the bed and threw me down.

But he did kiss me first in the end. And we ended up a tangle of limbs, me in his lap, arms about his neck, looking down at him through heavy lidded eyes. He had lost the unreachable, unreadable expression and instead his glare was smoldering and sexy. I had him exactly where I fucking wanted him. It was time to show him that he couldn't control me. That I was still the wild girl from Alexandria that he couldn't quite ride.

"You still fucking belong to me, doll," he growled, pulling me closer to him.

I laughed again. "No, love. You belong to ME."

He squinted up at me, and then a slow grin spread across his face, neither accepting nor denying it. So I leaned in and claimed him again and again and again.