Trey was adjusting well to hanging out with the littles at the Sanctuary school and I was enjoying interacting with not just the children of our little community, but their parents as well. I was happy to see that no one was treating me differently than I had been in Alexandria. Even as Negan's future only wife, all of the people within our gates treated me like the person who taught their children, and who made Negan more agreeable. At least that's what one older woman whispered to me, a soft smile on her lips. I was happy to know that people didn't see me as an interloper.
Negan spent his days putting out whatever fires that Rick and his people continued to cause, and I knew they were causing trouble because I heard about the woman who breached our security, but didn't hear her name. He'd brought Eugene back after his last visit to Alexandria, after he'd shown me the bullet 'wound' that Lucille had been afflicted with, a bullet that Eugene had made. And I also knew that Daryl had gotten free, and that caused more upheaval simply because Negan hated looking weak or inept.
These things I learned through whispers that ran like waves through the people that didn't realize I was kept free from upsetting information. It didn't upset me, not in the sense that I thought Negan couldn't handle it. I was more confused about why they all couldn't sit down like fucking adults and hammer out a reasonable deal that everyone could be comfortable with, but I didn't think it was my fucking place to offer my opinion. It wasn't that I was a shrinking violet or a fully 50s housewife, but since I wasn't a fucking soldier or fighter, why should I put my nose in it?
About a month after Trey's second birthday, I was sitting on the couch reading him one of his new books when Negan came in whistling. I grinned down at our little Boo who had his lips puckered in what he thought was the same way Dada had his and was blowing more spit than a tune. I shook my head as Negan kissed my temple and tried to give our toddler pointers on how to whistle like his daddy.
"I think he's a little too young to figure out the mechanics, Dada." Negan sat down next to us and pulled both of us onto his lap. Breathing in the scent of my hair, and then kissing Trey's curls his arms locked around both of us. "How was your day?"
"Long," he sighed, tapping the book I still held. "You haven't finished the story, Mama."
I reopened the book and read, smiling as Trey became engrossed and Negan's hand was taking a field trip down my bare arm. When I finished, Trey clapped, something he'd learned during storytime in class and Negan chuckled and put his own hands together.
"Boo Bear, why don't you hop down and start building us something to play monster with?" Trey slid off my lap, with my assistance and pulled his toy basket out from under the table. Once he was occupied, Negan's lips met my neck. Moaning at the taste of my skin, he nipped with his teeth and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from making a noise that would cause Trey's focus to lock onto us. "Are you still prepared to fucking marry me, princess?" I nodded and was rewarded with a harder bite. "Words, Amara."
"Yes, Sir." Another bite. "Daddy?" His tongue flicked against the slightly tortured skin. "When?"
"How does three days from now sound?" I pulled away and locked eyes with him. "Is that too soon?"
Kissing the breath out of him, I was shaking my head when I pulled back again. "You STILL don't know how to read the fucking room, Coach."
Eric, because of course it would be Eric, was in my room the day before my 'wedding' to Negan. In the madness that happened when Negan and I were separated, I hadn't actually shown him or Mary the dress. And Negan, being an alpha male who cared nothing about clothing or the heft of a dress bag, didn't realize that it wasn't holding JUST my dress.
Negan had taken Trey along for a meeting with his higher up Saviors, Steven was with them giving more ideas for increased security measures for the outposts, and that meant that Eric was about to see just what was in my wedding gown bag.
I pulled it out of the closet, hanging it from one of the twisted limb posts of our bed, and carefully unzipped it. I heard Eric's gasp and thought about how he hadn't seen anything yet. I removed the shoe box that was tucked into the bottom part of the bag and set them on the bed. Then I took out the first part, my lingerie, the ONLY type I could wear with the cut of the dress. The dress came out next and if he thought the first layer inside the bag was gasp worthy, I was rewarded with a whispered "holy shit". Hanging the dress on the opposite limb post, there was still one thing left. The honeymoon set.
"Are you trying to give Coach a fucking heartattack?" He sighed, staring at the lace and ribbons that made up the present that Negan was going to get to open on our wedding night. "Fuck, Amara, it's gorgeous."
I sighed. "Yes it is, now let's fucking pray it still fits. All of it."
Eric helped me into the dress once I had the undergarments in place. "This dress is a fucking work of art." I knew it. The cut was far more old Hollywood glamour. Satin, lace, and silver accents, it fell down my length and was more draping than a stereotypical princess ball gown. The shoes, heels with the same silver accented pattern along the back and heel, caused Eric to give up a low whistle when I pulled them on. "He's gonna want to fuck you while you wear those stilletos."
"No, he won't." He raised an eyebrow and I laughed. "Trust me, Negan learned just how fucking much stilletos can hurt if I wrap my legs around him."
"You impaled Coach with a fucking high heel?" I grinned, remembering how he'd powered through, but swore that he'd never be fucking tempted to repeat the exercise, and how he'd turned and begged me to tell him he wasn't fucking bleeding or scarred for life.
"Well?" I asked, standing up from where I'd sat on the bed to put on the shoes. I bit my lip, knowing without a fucking doubt that I could count on Eric to tell me the truth.
"You look fucking amazing, Amara. Shit, I kind of wish I didn't love dick so much." Rolling my eyes, my hands went to the long braid I kept my hair in. "You should wear it up," I waited, wanting to hear the reason. "The low cut of the back of that dress needs to be bare, Coach is gonna want to rush through the fucking vows, kick everyone out of the way, and screw you senseless if you keep it bare."
"Pretty sure I'd want to screw her senseless no matter fucking what," Negan's voice called from the other side of the closed bedroom door. "I'm guessing it's not safe for me to come in?"
I was about to let him, but Eric glared at me. "No, it's not fucking safe. Haven't you two assholes tempted fate enough?" Another eye roll from me and he snickered. "Shut up, whore, you know I'm right."
"Let me know when you're 'decent'," Negan called out, and I chuckled when I heard Trey mimic him by yelling 'decen' over and over.
