I woke up, naked and in Negan's arms and it wasn't as strange as it should have been. His snoring didn't seem as loud, and I didn't fight against the urge to press closer. I was tucked under his chin, his arm wrapped tight around me, holding me to him, and my leg was over his again. Natural. As jarring as it should have been for the second day in a row to wake up like this, only this time completely bare, it wasn't. It felt right.
If anything had surprised me, about last night, about yesterday, it had been his gentleness. The passion was definitely there, but he'd been far more gentle and tentative than I'd expected, if I'd been expecting anything. And I hadn't. Not with him. Not me and him. I was letting myself focus on this. Us. Because as the sun rose higher, I knew that the thoughts that would take over my mind, when he walked away to go to face my dad, my people, would leave me once again in limbo.
Negan slowly woke up. He took his time, his hand sliding down my length, testing my skin, almost trying to decide if I were real or not. Then it slid back up, this time making sure he'd missed nothing, no dip or curve was neglected. Sliding through my hair, which had come down at some point, I tilted my head back, looking up at his face. I was still learning about Negan, this man who seemed so contradictory. But here, in the early morning light that was glowing over his face, all I could see was beauty.
"Hey, you." Sleep had made his voice rough again, and I found myself smiling at it. "I could get used to waking up like this."
I shook my head, thoughts I didn't want to deal with sneaking in one at a time. "Only on Tuesdays remember?" I watched him, watching me, and he shook his own head.
"I told you, I'd make every damn day Tuesday." And then he was pulling me toward him, over top of his body and finding my mouth with his. His hands fell to my lower back and I licked into his mouth as he moaned. And then, I was on my back and he was on top of me, his weight feeling like perfection. "You're beautiful," he'd pulled his mouth away and was studying me. "So fucking beautiful." And then his mouth returned to mine.
When his body arched into mine, when I rolled against his, I realized that he could be just about damn near anything. He could be gentle, definitely, but as he learned that I needed and wanted more, he could adjust, he could read me like he had when I stepped out of those trees and met him face first. And then we were pounding together, the sounds ripped from us mingling and making their own kind of music. Tuesday, or the thought of Tuesday became my new favorite day.
Spent, yet not tired, not even a little bit, Negan hovered over me. His weight was on his elbows, and he was still inside of me, growing limp, but still connected. Our eyes were locked together, my hands tracing his face, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, touching a scar along the side of his face. He studied me as I memorized his face, this face that had terrified me the first time I saw him. How had I not seen how soft his eyes could be? Flashing from golds, to browns, to somewhere in between. The dimples that I'd noticed, that could peek out not only when he was smiling or laughing, but when he smirked and sometimes even when he was pensive. His mouth, mocking and taunting words could spill from these lips, but so could my name, sounding like a plea, a prayer, or on a moan. My thumbs stroked over his bottom lip, feeling the softness that contradicted many of the things he said. His scruff, that he'd shaved off with Dad's razor, had grown back and I had to admit to myself I preferred him this way. Rough and rogue looking. Powerful, yet caring. Passionate and… I wasn't sure, I was still learning about him.
"Jessi," his hand came up to touch my face. "What do you see when you're starin' at me like that?" Constantly curious, I thought, smiling up at him as I licked my bottom lip.
"I see you," I whispered, still drinking in his face. Tucking it away, for when he left, when he went to face off against my family. I felt my heart lurch. "When do you leave?"
He nudged my nose with his and kissed me, taking a moment of peace before his day had to truly start. "Soon." It was a breath across my lips, and then he dipped in again. As though he couldn't get enough of me, of my mouth, of my taste. When he pulled back, he rolled off of me with a sigh and I turned to face him. I curled into his side, his arm wrapping around me as though it were made to go there. "I'd rather stay here, fuck if I'd rather stay here."
I nodded. He didn't have to reassure me, I knew he wasn't excited about whatever was coming. And even if he was chomping at the bit to remind my people what they should have known by now, leaving me and this behind wasn't as easy as it should have been. For either of us. "I- I don't know what to ask, or what to hope for." I offered, my hand drawn to his face like a magnet. I cupped his cheek, and felt my chest tighten. "If I hope for your safety, and I do, then does that mean that I hope that Dad isn't safe?" I felt the guilt of that thought gnaw at me. "If I hope that they're safe, then does that mean that I don't want you to come back?" I know he saw me flinch at the idea, because his free hand came up to mirror mine, cupping my cheek. "I want it all, all of you to be safe, for this to come to a peaceful end, but that's not our world, is it?" I felt the burn of tears start in my eyes.
Negan was stroking my cheek with his thumb. "You can hope for all of us, Jessi, there's nothing to feel bad about wanting me AND Rick to be safe." He kissed my forehead. "I wish like hell that none of this had to happen, NONE of it. Except the part that brought you here," I looked up at that, "I would have fucking preferred you came whole and not a part of a life for a life deal, but I won't feel guilty for having you with me, Jessica Grimes." Another kiss on my forehead. "I will come back today. I will. Now, if you're up for it," I waited. "Come join me in the shower, I'm not ready to say goodbye to you just yet, sweetheart."
