I might not like mornings, but you know what I do like? Hearing a knock on the door signifying that Negan's about to be interrupted while attempting to coax out a new noise out of me. Not the interruption itself, trust me, I'd MUCH rather not be left dangling over the precipice, but that look in his eyes that says 'I am about to go on a fucking tear the likes of these assholes have never seen."

Guess I'm going to have to add the absolute terror that he can put in to the hearts and minds of others as a kink too, because fuck if it isn't extremely hot to see. It was our breakfast of course. And hearing him growl at the poor sucker who pulled delivery duty was pretty fucking sexy. I got out of bed reluctantly, and threw on Negan's discarded t-shirt and pulled on a pair of panties from my drawer.

I walked barefoot to where he was setting up the table, and leaned against the wall to observe the way he moved. Languid, like a cat, I thought. Completely at ease in his domain, which was how the man was in EVERY domain. His jeans were hanging low on his hips, having tugged them on sans belt, and I was wearing his t-shirt, so he was once again shirtless. And he was barefooted, like me. His toned chest, dusted with matching salt and pepper hair that I'd found he enjoyed me tugging on at any point in our intimacy, made me bite my lip. Fuck, was he really all mine?

"You gonna keep starin' or come over here and fucking eat, like a good girl?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the food. Studying it, probably making sure nothing was amiss, or maybe hoping they fucked up so he could take out some pent up aggression that sex didn't fix.

Shaking my head, I walked over and wound my arms around his back. Kissing his spine, I felt his hands cover mine. I pressed my cheek against his back, feeling him relax into my touch. "What's for breakfast?" My words are quiet, but my contentment with this new normal of mine clear, I hoped.

Negan turned, kissing the top of my head. "Take a look, baby girl." But his arms wrapped around me, naturally and easily. I leaned around his tall frame and took in scrambled eggs, fresh baked bread, some type of meat, and a dish of oatmeal at both of our seats. Dear Lord, there was no way I could fucking eat all that.

I groaned, and felt him chuckle. "I get that I'm 'eating for two' and all, but these fucking portions are going to kill me."

One of his hands cupped my chin to force my eyes to meet his. "Just eat, princess." And with a kiss that made my knees go weak, he released me and held out my chair. Such a fucking gentleman, I swear.

Rolling my eyes, I sat, but I waited until he took his own seat before picking up my fork. As we ate, we got back to our 'getting to know you' chatter. "Tell me what your life was like before all this." I wanted to know who the man was before he became this version of himself.

Negan studied his food. He didn't answer, and for a moment I wondered if he would brush it off. Not every survivor liked to talk about their life before. As though talking about it made it less real, or more real depending on the person. He surprised me, however, and finally looked up and told me. The entire story. His wife. Her sickness. His infidelity. The ups and downs of his career. And most of all, how he felt he'd failed the woman he'd married as the world truly turned to shit.

"She turned." His voice was as quiet as mine had been when I walked in this room earlier. "And I knew I should-" He stopped, eyes pinched with a pain that I hated to see. "I couldn't. Not her. Not after every shitty thing I'd done." His eyes landed on that damn bat and I realized, I knew that it carried her name. Lucille. His true wife. A woman he felt he'd never done right by, not even when she died and came back.

I listened, eating absently, and wondered what he really saw in me. Why he picked me. What he wanted from me truly. When he was finished telling me his history, I looked down at my food and was shocked to see it was almost completely gone. Who knew? Who knew that hearing a man who was larger than life explain that he was fucking human would make me ravenous? Or at the very least distract me enough to overeat.

"Thank you for telling me." I offered, putting my fork down, feeling more than full. "I, maybe I shouldn't have asked-" I stopped and tried to collect my thoughts. "I'm sorry if sharing it was painful." It was lame, to my own ears, to try to offer- what? Sympathy? Comfort? It was too little, but I wanted to take his pain away.

He shook his head, glancing where my food used to be. "If sharing painful things with you gets you to fucking eat? Then I'll tell you any damn thing you want to know." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. I sat with him, no longer asking for more information, while he ate his own breakfast. "Is that my shirt, Callie?" His eyes, no longer pinched, turned dark.

I beamed at him. "Yep." I watched him eat while studying me, in his shirt, sitting across from him.

I learned something during breakfast. Negan can keep me eating absently by just telling me his story. A combination of his voice and the fact that he was baring his soul to me. I could keep Negan shoveling his in, just by sitting there wearing his clothes.

I also learned that Negan is always hungry. For me at least.

Another shared shower, and Negan left after we both got dressed, promising me that he'd be bringing a few Saviors up for me to pick and choose from for my own "security detail". I seriously didn't know if I felt more like a First Lady, or the fucking Queen. I was just opening my mouth to ask if I'd be left to my own devices for the interim when he answered me.

"Dwight is gonna be right outside the door, Callie, if you want something he has a walkie. I forgot to tell them to get you one." He was pulling on his leather jacket and picking up Lucille as he told me this. Then, lest I forget that he's insatiable, he yanked me to him with his free arm and kissed me long and hard. "I'll try to keep this shit brief, but who knows what the place has gotten into while I've been up here with you. And fuck if I wouldn't rather stay." He pulled away after brushing my nose with his. "Damn, this is fucking hard." He groaned, and in case I forget which part of him was particularly affected, he adjusted himself. And then, he was gone.

I spent the time exploring my new living space. Negan had kept me pretty fucking occupied, not that I was complaining, but I wanted to know where everything was, and what everything consisted of.

I found a linen closet of sorts, stocked with spare bedding and throws. The small fridge that he'd grabbed my water from was stocked full of snacks and more bottles of water. I hadn't noticed the bookshelf when I first walked in, but looking at the offerings I smiled. There was variety, which meant I wouldn't get bored yet. I went through my closet, my shoes, my lingerie.

There was a knock on the door as I was looking through Negan's side of the closet. It was my lunch, and the delivery person wouldn't make eye contact, not until I thanked him. Then he shot me a look of utter fucking confusion. What the hell? Did manners not exist here? Dwight was looking at me over the tray-bearer's shoulder, and I shrugged, but asked him to wait while I gathered the dirty dishes from breakfast. Leaving the door open, I rushed to where Negan had piled them back on the tray, and grabbed it. I gave it to the poor kitchen guy and smiled, offering another bit of gratitude. Another fucking look of utter bafflement crossed his face. Shit. Seriously?

Before I could close the door on Dwight and the retreating back of the delivery guy, my temporary guard grinned. "You're his queen, girl, get used to these assholes lookin' at you like you're some kind of fuckin' goddess." His smile didn't reach his eyes, and it definitely didn't make him look more believable. I glared at him, and shut the door.

Lunch went quickly, mostly because Negan wasn't here to make demands on my stomach contents. I chose a book and plopped down on the sofa to read, grabbing the blanket I'd left there when we were interrupted the day before. I stopped reading and considered that. I'd only been in the Sanctuary for one full day. Holy shit. One day and my entire life was changed.

I'm Negan's main squeeze. I'm carrying a tiny being inside of me that may or may not be related to the devil. My family was who knew how far away. And I was learning that the entire fucking population of this community considered me a fucking queen. Dear God. That's more unbelievable than when I first heard that dead people were coming back to fucking life.

Gobsmacked. That's the word that completely described my emotional situation. I was fucking gobsmacked.