Blake gave a huff.

The past few days had seemed to drift by slowly, and at first, Blake had been as upbeat as she possibly could be, about being kept trapped inside her own home, for no good reason. For the idea that she would see Negan any day now, made her heart beat that much faster inside her chest, making al of this worth it.

But after six long days went by, Blake had come to the conclusion that perhaps the dark-haired Saviour was, in fact, not coming back.

Maybe he had found someone else to capture his interest….

Maybe he had been killed…

But Blake not wanting to dwell on either of these things, had finally realised that perhaps he just didn't have the time, or the energy to keep visiting her.

It was at least an hour's drive from the Sanctuary, and gas was like gold-dust in this world.

Perhaps Negan had finally realised that she just wasn't worth it.

And that, really, was no-ones fault but Blake's, after all.

She had been the one who had decided to leave…

To come here…

To leave him…

So why did she expect Negan, of all people, to keep his promise of a date to her.

He didn't owe her anything after all.

They weren't a couple. They weren't….well, anything.

He wasn't hers.

But these fact still didn't serve to make Blake feel any better.

She had been under house arrest for almost a week now. And being trapped under this roof with no one to talk to, was driving her crazy.

Blake was currently sat on her large couch, as the sun set through the window behind her, having read and re-read the same paragraph of her book four times now.

She was frustrated and bored, and longed for…just a walk….or a chat with someone. Someone who wasn't Rick at least…

The brown-haired man had called in to see her about three times in six days. With both of them getting more and more irritated with each other with each visit that passed.

What good was it doing keeping her here?

Stopping her socialising with people? How did that even make sense?

She had, of course, vented these frustrations with him. But he had just scowled at her and warned her that this was for her own good….that he needed to be able to trust her.

But Blake knew for a fact that in a community this small, it was likely that no-one would ever trust her again.

Rumour spread fast here, and she had seen, through shaded blinds, across the street, the residents of Alexandria stopping and pointing up at her house, gossiping….talking about her.

Not much had changed there of course, but it was having no visits from people she had considered her friends that had hurt the most over these long six days of confinement.

Apart from standing guard outside, neither Tara, nor Aaron, nor Eric had come inside to see her…to talk with her…

She knew they had likely been told everything by Rick and Michonne now, but that didn't mean they knew the full story. Blake still had her own side to tell and it made her infuriated that she had not been given the chance to say her piece.

The only person, bar Rick, to actually try and confront her about Negan's visit had been Rosita. Who had stood on the doorstep of Blake's house, with eyes full of seething fury.

But the caramel- blonde woman had not bothered to open the door…not wanting to hear Rosita's bullshit right now.

She knew Rosita had her own vendetta against Negan...for both Spencer and Abraham's' death…..but that was something that Blake was not prepared to get involved in anymore.

She wasn't going to sell Negan out to her, of all people.

For some reason Blake felt slightly threatened by her…having seen a questioning, doubtful sort-of look upon her features that first night of being back here at Alexandria. The brown haired woman obviously not believing that David could ever have been so harmful to Blake. And that doubt hurt Blake a lot.

But to everyone here of course, Blake needed to remembered, David had been charming, with his blonde hair and good-looks, always saying the right thing at the right time. A model citizen.

So why would people ever believe that Blake was indeed telling the truth, the problem being that she herself, had hid his abuse too well from everyone at the time.

The caramel-blonde woman turned the page in her book with another small huffy-sigh. But her green eyes were no longer moving, fixed to one spot on the paper….no longer reading….her mind too busy focusing on other things.

But she couldn't help but jump suddenly, as there came a loud knock upon her front door.

She gave a sudden tired moan, closing the book and tossing it down onto a couch cushion beside her and getting to her feet.

It was guaranteed to be Rick again….probably wanting nothing in particular but to sit there, sigh for a bit and throw stupid questions her way about exactly what she was doing at the Sanctuary all that time.

Blake today, was just wearing a white t-shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of tight-indigo jeans, with a large brown belt slung around her middle…but not having the luxury of going out, she was barefoot, not having bothered with shoes and socks.

She had tried, of course, to leave, it had taken her less than a day to attempt it. But Father Gabriel and Sasha who had been standing guard at the time, had firmly told her to turn around and go back inside, both of their hands moving to knives positioned at the waists.

Blake, at this, had just rolled her eyes.

Had they really seen her as that much of a threat? But she had reluctantly scoffed and gone back inside, slamming the door furiously behind her, not wanting to try and find out what lengths either of them would go to, to keep her inside.

But Blake, now, striding through her hallway once again, tugged open the door with a loud, irritated huff.

"Look, Rick," she said in a tired voice. "I've told you-"

But Blake stopped short as she saw who was stood on the other side, silhouetted in the hazy evening light.

"Tara?" Blake murmured, parting her lips.

Tara was stood there, in a navy t-shirt and jeans, hands dug sheepishly into her front pockets, chewing on her lip…her eyes full of something sad and imploring.

She was silent for a long moment, staring up at Blake, before finally opening her mouth….

"I thought we were friends," said the dark-haired woman in a sudden dejected voice.

Blake immediately gulped.

"W-We are," she said reassuringly, cocking her head to the side.

It was strange to see Tara like this…..after six days of only seeing her through a window.

But the dark-haired girl just shook her head.

"You lied to me, Blake," she said, a sadness in her voice now. "You told me you had nothing to with him… with Negan….and then he comes to visit you here?!"

Blake chewed on her own lip now…a strong sense of guilt passing over her….making her stomach churn violently.

"It wasn't important…" she tried to argue.

But Tara cut across her.

"Bullshit," she cried suddenly, her voice becoming higher in pitch and louder now. "Of course it's important. They killed Denise, and Glenn, and Abraham and Spencer….and you're just standing there acting like it's the most normal thing in the world to be shacked up with that asshole Negan. He bludgeoned people to death, Blake!"

Tara was breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling rapidly from her outburst. But Blake wasn't far off mirroring her stance, standing there with wide eyes, rubbing at her own arms, feeling defensive….her heart hurting now.

"I know…" she said in a quiet tone, her voice wavering as she spoke.

"No, you don't," said Tara shaking her head and staring at Blake sadly. "Because if you knew what was truly capable of, you'd have never invited him in , Blake. You'd never be involved with him at all. Because he's a monster."

But Blake gave a tiny frown, gulping again now, and shaking her head.

So many conflicting feeling rising within her, as Tara made to turn on her heel having said her piece, making to turn away.

But Blake spoke suddenly.

"But he's not," she said with a whisper, as she gazed back at her dark-haired friend. "He's not…"

Tara looked wide-eyed back at Blake over her shoulder, but it was a long, drawn-out moment, before she finally spoke again.

"I trusted you," she said despondently, Blake watching, as angry tears spilled from her friend's eyes.

But that was all Tara could manage to mutter, and she rubbed at her face, turned back around, and disappeared off down Blake's porch steps, without another word.

Blake gazed skywards suddenly, trying as hard as she could to stop the tears from spilling from her own eyes.

Shit.

What had she done?

She had pushed away one of her only friends in this world, for a man who she wasn't even sure was ever coming back anyway….

She let out a shaky breath now, making to turn around and head back inside. But before she could do so-

"Blake!" came a sudden voice from behind her drawing her attention back around.

She steadied herself slightly, to see the tall and handsome figure of Steve, coming bounding up the porch steps towards her, two at a time, looking like an excitable puppy.

He was tonight, wearing a light blue t-shirt, black pants, and was carrying a bottle of something in his tanned, muscle-bound arms.

Blake let out a small breath of air, still feeling like she wanted to cry right now, as she blinked at him.

"Oh..uhhh…hi, Steve…." she began, rubbing at her arms once more. "..I'm sorry, but now's not really a good-"

But Steve gave her a lop-sided sort-of smile, holding the large dusty bottle of wine out towards her.

"I just thought you might want some company, seeing as you're not allowed out," he asked tilting his head and offering her an encouraging look. "Thought you might do with some cheering up. And hey, what situation isn't improved by copious amounts of alcohol, huh?"

At this, Blake looked down her feet letting out a small laugh, as Steve's words lightened the mood slightly.

Well maybe a drink would help take her mind off of everything….and ease the pain of her conversation with Tara.

Because Balke now found herself hurting more than ever. Feeling oh-so alone.

Like she had no-one.

And so, Blake gave a small nod, before she could stop herself, taking the bottle gently within her grasp, and biting on her lip.

"Sounds good," she said taking in a deep breath, and gesturing for Steve to follow her inside.


It hadn't taken long before the pair of them had found themselves sat on two high barstools beside the island counter in her open-plan kitchen, already on their second glass of the vinegary-tasting, red wine.

Their conversation had drifted from one subject to another for the past thirty minutes, Blake relaxing a little and opening up in his presence.

They had so far lightly touched upon the subject of David…or Steve's own deceased girlfriend, pets that they used to own, and cities they had visited in their youth, as well as brief catch up on what had happened at Maud's drinks party last week, slightly ruined by the Saviours showing up just before it kicked off.

"So what did you do before?" Steve asked now, in a gentle voice, taking another small sip of his wine. "Y'know, in the real-world?"

Blake could have skipped all the chit-chat if she was honest and just stuck to the alchohol, but she knew she needed to be polite.

"I worked in an office," she said waving a hand dismissively. "It's wasn't anything special. You?"

But Steve smiled, scratching back of his neck with his hand. "I was training to be a PT- Personal trainer."

Blake gave a nod. Of course he was.

Steve was lovely, of course. But she had been there done that, with someone like him….with David….a handsome , carefree guy…..who had in fact proved to be the exact opposite of that.

Blake nodded….trying to think of something to say, but before she could do so, Steve had suddenly licked at his lips, staring over at her.

"I've missed not seeing you around lately," he commented, a little shyly. "I know Rick's trying to keep under wraps exactly why he's keeping you shut in here, but I just want you to know, that if you want me to try and talk to him, I can."

Blake gave a small smile.

"You're sweet," she began gently, shaking her head. "But-"

But before Blake could utter another word, Steve had, all of a sudden, scraped back his chair and got to his feet, moving around the island towards her.

"Listen," he said in an earnest tone, suddenly changing the mood in the room completely, and coming to stop at the still-sitting Blake's side, staring down at her. "I know I haven't been here that long...and we haven't known each other for even a month yet….but…hey, life's kinda short and, well…..."

Steve paused momentarily, licking his lips slowly once again, before sighing and giving a brief shake of his head.

"…oh….screw it-"

And with that, Blake felt her eyes widening into huge orbs, as Steve brushed back a strand of her caramel blonde hair from her face, leaning in suddenly towards her, his lips moving slowly to meet with hers.

Oh, fuck...

But before Blake could make a move to stop him, or even pull away…her heart hammering a drumbeat of fright inside her ribcage….

...a sudden loud and angry voice filled the room-

"Oh, you better be fuckin' jokin'!"

Steve suddenly pulled back from her, swinging suddenly around on this the spot, as Blake peered around his tall and broad form...

...only to see a person she recognised very, very well, stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

Negan.

He was stood, in his usual black leather jacket, white t-shirt, and black biker boots, with Lucille now grasped tightly within his gloved hand.

But it was his face, that made Blake's breath hitch slightly as she looked at him.

She could tell immediately that he was seething, his jaw tightly clenched and twitching with pure fury. His eyes were black and his chin lowered, looking more intimidating than Blake had ever seen him.

But Steve gave a frown at the dark-haired Saviour, eyeing him, looking a little confused. "Errr, can I help you?" he asked in a slow voice.

Blake knew that Steve, unlikely to have ever clapped eyes on Negan before, of course would not recognise him….but she prayed for his sake he would figure it out quicker that Negan would give him cause to.

But Negan ignored him, instead, his chocolate eyes were fixed on Blake.

"This fucking guy?!" asked the bearded Saviour with incredulous raised eyebrows, cocking his head to the side and arching his back with every syllable he spoke.

He pointed at Steve with the end of his barbed-wire covered baseball-bat, which unfortunately only served to make Steve's frown deepen slightly.

"Look I don't know who you are, but-" the younger man began in a sincere tone, but Negan suddenly turned to face him, narrowing his dark eyes.

"Well, holy fuckin' shit," said Negan in a loud, obnoxious tone. "Either we've not been introduced, or else I failed to make a strong fuckin' impression on you're the first time. Either fuckin' way I think I'd better refresh your goddamn memory."

Negan took a step forwards, gripping Lucille threateningly, and coming nose-to-nose with Steve.

Both men were tall, but perhaps Negan had an inch on the younger man….or maybe it just seemed that way…the way Negan loomed over him frighteningly.

"Uh..can we not…." said Blake with a tired sigh, pushing herself suddenly from the chair.

But both men ignored her, their eyes fixed on one another.

"I'm Negan," said the dark-haired man in a sudden low growling voice, as Blake saw Steve almost instantly give a gulp.

There it was…

That dawning realisation….that look of utter horror appearing in his eyes as he realised just who he was dealing with.

"..and this, is Lucille," continued Negan, raising the end of the baseball-bat so that it was level with Steve's face. "And…well….she is lookin' kinda thirsty tonight, don' you think?"

But Blake pursed her lips together a little angrily now, marching straight up to Negan.

"Nope…nuh-uh…" she said in a scolding tone, suddenly rounding on Negan and coming to stand in between him and Steve. "Not in my fucking kitchen, Negan."

And almost at once, the dark-haired Saviour turned to her, a hint of a grin twitching its way onto his lips.

He gave a small sigh.

"You really doin' this to save your fuckin' tiles, Darlin'?" he began, leaning his face into hers. "Or are you actually doing it to save pretty-boy's fuckin' face?"

Blake shot him a sudden unimpressed look, gazing up into Negan's dark chocolate eyes, as he leered over her, his free hand suddenly snaking around her waist possessively.

She tutted, as Negan spoke again.

"I mean, hell, I know I'm a bit late for our date, Peaches," he said flashing her his pearly white line of teeth, as her tugged her body firmly into his. "But did you really move on that fuckin' fast? With this fuckin' guy too?! I mean, jeez, he looks like the goddamn missin' link."

Steve at their side, merely looked on meekly, trembling in his shoes, as Blake lifted her hand to Negan's chest and gave him a gentle shove away from her playfully.

"Stop it," she reprimanded, flashing him reproachful look, before turning swiftly to Steve.

The man, around Blake's own age, now looked about six-years old, standing there, wide-eyes and apprehensive.

"You should probably go, Steve," she uttered, offering him a sort-of apologetic look.

And almost at once Steve nodded reverently, and eased past the pair.

But Negan, as cocky as he was, stuck out Lucille suddenly stopping Steve in his tracks before he could go anywhere.

"Oh Steve-y–boy," he said in a low growl of a voice, staring back at the young guy, with an arrogant grin, now plastered across his bearded features. And with that, Negan leaned up close to Steve's face intimidatingly. "If I ever fuckin' catch you tryin' to kiss her, or in fact, even fucking looking her way again, I'll be painting these fuckin' floor tiles a nice red colour with the shit that comes out of your skull. We clear?"

And Steve certainly looked clear, as he gave a dry sounding audible gulp, before walking swiftly away as fast as his legs could carry him. And it wasn't a moment later than Blake heard the door slam loudly behind him.

Almost at once she turned to Negan, and offered him a reproving look, tilting her head to the side, letting her long, caramel hair drift easily over her shoulders.

"You are such an asshole sometimes," she said shaking her head and pouting.

But Negan merely smiled, strutting over to her and leaning in towards her closely, his lips almost brushing hers, before he brought his mouth slowly up to her ear.

"Don't pout, Darlin'," he said in a low and husky voice, pressing a grin into her hair. "It makes Daddy wanna do very, very bad fuckin' things to you."

And with that, Blake couldn't help but let a moan of want slip quietly from her lips….as her fingers suddenly curled around the fabric of his leather sleeve….

...before Negan pulled back, letting his mouth finally find hers...


Thanks to Guest, CLTex,Hmc09, Xmidniteangel15X, Guest, alliesmiley2 and JudithMosalii for commenting on the last chapter. I appeciate you all taking the time out to comment so much. Especially when it was a chapter without Negan.

Do let me know what you thought about this chapter...and 'Nake'.

Hope you all have a lovely weekend.

Please review!