MAJESTY P.O.V

I knew I had to get myself together. The moment I stepped out of that car, I felt the weight of everything pressing down on me, threatening to crush me where I stood. The prison loomed ahead, cold and unforgiving, a far cry from the chaotic, twisted safety of Woodbury. But it wasn't the prison walls that felt confining—it was everything that had happened, everything I'd just seen and heard.

My hands trembled as I wiped the last of the tears from my face, willing myself to push through the pain that gnawed at my insides. I couldn't let myself fall apart. Not here, not now. Kris needed me, and the people inside those walls would be looking to me for answers, for strength. The last thing I could afford was to show them how close I was to shattering.

As I walked towards the entrance, I forced my mind to focus on what needed to be done. I had to find a place for Kris, make sure he was safe. I had to figure out where I stood in this new world, what my role would be now that everything had changed. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the practical, the reality of Glenn and Maggie's relationship kept clawing its way back to the forefront of my thoughts.

I never thought I could feel this way—so completely betrayed and abandoned by someone I had loved so deeply. It was like the last eight months of hell had been a cruel joke, a twisted punishment for daring to hope, to dream that there might be something left for me after everything I'd been through. But there wasn't. Not the way I'd imagined it.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breath as I approached the main gate. I could see Rick and the others up ahead, their faces grim, their postures tense. They were dealing with their own demons, their own losses, but that didn't make mine any easier to bear.

I couldn't let them see how much I was struggling. I couldn't let Glenn see that his betrayal had ripped me apart. If I was going to survive this—if Kris and I were going to survive this—I had to be strong. I had to push it all down, bury it deep where it couldn't touch me, and focus on the only thing that mattered: surviving.

Amy was the most comforting face I could hope for in this mess, the only reunion that felt like a small sliver of light in the dark. Though she was nothing like the young girl I had known before, the bond we had built was still strong, surviving the time and distance that had separated us.

When she saw me, her eyes lit up with a mix of relief and disbelief, and for a moment, it felt like things might be okay—like I might be okay. We hugged tightly, the embrace grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.

But the reunion didn't last long before the reality of our situation crashed down again. The moment Amy found out that Andrea was alive, the energy around us shifted. Her joy at the news quickly turned to confusion and hurt when she realized that Andrea would rather not come back to the prison. The intensity of Amy's reaction—her anger, her tears—was almost overwhelming.

I stood by her side, feeling the weight of her emotions as if they were my own. The conversation was hard to bear, each word about Andrea's decision like a knife twisting in my chest. But I embraced it, forcing myself to stay present because it was a distraction from my own turmoil. As much as it hurt to hear about Andrea, it was a pain that felt almost easier to deal with than the one tearing me apart inside.

Being there for Amy, comforting her, was a way to keep myself from completely unraveling. It gave me something to focus on, something other than the raw wound left by seeing Glenn again, by realizing that everything I had hoped for had been an illusion.

As night settled in, I finally had the chance to take in more of the cell block the group had made their home. The cold, stark walls and the dim lighting were a far cry from the relatively comfortable life we had built in Woodbury. The contrast was jarring, the reality of my new situation sinking in with every step I took. This was where I would live now—a prison in every sense of the word. It wasn't a comforting thought, but I knew I had made my choice the minute I climbed over those walls.

The others were trying to make the best of it, but there was an underlying tension, a heaviness that hung in the air like a storm cloud. They had been through so much, and now I was a part of this fractured group, trying to find my place in it. It didn't feel like home. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But it was what I had now.

When Carol showed me the baby—Judith, they called her—there was a moment of softness, a brief flicker of hope amidst the darkness. But that moment was quickly overshadowed when I learned of all that had been lost in my absence. Lori, Shane, T-Dog… Their names hung in the air, each one a heavy reminder of the price that had been paid.

It was like a whole new wave of grief crashed over me, one I wasn't prepared for. I had been gone, and while I was fighting my own battles, they were losing theirs. The weight of it all was suffocating. The loss of Lori hit particularly hard—her absence leaving a void that was impossible to ignore. And Shane… well, that opened up old wounds that hadn't fully healed.

I had to process it all, again. The grief, the guilt, the anger. It felt like too much, like I was drowning in it, and there was no escape. The baby in Carol's arms was a symbol of hope, but all I could see was what had been taken to bring her into this world.

And to make it worse, that baby was nothing but a reminder of my own trauma. Carol had sat there, expectantly holding out Judith, waiting for me to cradle this newfound life, to find some solace in the innocence she represented. But all I could think of was myself, my own loss, the gaping wound that had never truly healed.

My baby might've been the same. This could've been my baby, Glenn holding her inside the prison, our little family finally finding some kind of peace amidst the chaos. I had been pregnant at the same time as Lori—two lives growing within us while the world outside crumbled. But while everyone else had gotten to watch Lori grow, had cared for her, loved her… all of that had been ripped from me.

The image of Glenn holding another woman's child, of the life that could have been ours, twisted the knife deeper. Judith was a symbol of hope for everyone here, a beacon of light in the darkness. But to me, she was a reminder of everything I had lost, of the life I would never get to hold, of the future that had been stolen from me.

I couldn't bring myself to reach for her, to pretend that everything was okay when it wasn't. The pain was too raw, too real. All I could do was stand there, my hands trembling, my heart breaking all over again. The grief, the guilt, the anger—it was all too much, and I felt like I was drowning in it, suffocating under the weight of my own loss.

Rick was the one who pulled me from the depths of my pain, surprising me by engulfing me in a hug. The embrace was unexpected but grounding, a brief moment of comfort in the storm.

"I'm glad to see you," he said as he pulled away, his voice filled with sincerity, "despite everything."

I nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. "I'm happy to see everyone as well. Really."

"We searched. Every day," Rick continued, his voice heavy with regret. "Would've kept searching if we had the time."

"I don't blame anyone," I reassured him, my voice steady. "I made my decisions. It led me to my brother. I think that was supposed to happen."

Rick nodded, taking in my words with a thoughtful expression. "Now this Governor—"

"He won't stop," I interrupted, my voice firm. "He'll come back until everyone is dead."

Something flickered in Rick's eyes as he processed what I said. A heaviness settled between us, the reality of the situation sinking in even deeper. He sighed heavily, the weight of leadership pressing down on him. "And what are their defenses like?"

I looked around, uncertain of how to fully convey the danger. "A lot more than here." My voice was low, cautious. I grabbed his arm, needing him to understand the gravity of the situation. "People will die if we try to fight. Maybe on both sides. But people will die."

The silence that followed was thick with the unspoken truth. We were outmatched, and Rick knew it as well as I did. The resolve in his eyes warred with the fear of what was to come, the knowledge that this fight, if it happened, would cost us dearly.

Rick nodded to himself, a resolve settling in his eyes as he placed a comforting hand on the small of my back. "You and Kris, you're welcome here. There are empty cells. Make yourself at home."

I nodded, but the weight of everything suddenly became too much to bear. The emotions I had been trying so hard to keep in check overwhelmed me, and before I knew it, I was hugging Rick again, the tears pouring out despite my best efforts to hold them back.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay—somehow, it's all going to be okay," Rick said softly, his words meant to reassure both of us.

I felt embarrassed to be falling apart like this, especially in front of Rick, so I quickly wiped my face and forced a smile, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Thanks," I mumbled, before walking off, still trying to absorb the stark reality of the prison that would now be our home.

As I wandered through the cold, steel corridors, Kris approached, carrying the bags we had hastily packed from Woodbury. He handed over my bo-staff as we neared an empty cell.

"Do I have to be your bunkie?" he grimaced, trying to lighten the mood.

I managed a small smile at his attempt. "No. Absolutely not. We're a long way from sharing rooms."

He looked around, taking in the drab surroundings. "We're a long way from Woodbury. A prison? This is home now?"

I could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and it made me feel a pang of guilt. I had dragged him into this, into a place that was so far from the life we had tried to build. "It's not what we had before, but it's not like we can just go back," I said softly, the reality of our situation settling heavily between us.

Kris nodded, understanding the truth in my words even if he didn't like it. We were stuck here, for better or worse. And as much as I wanted to protect him from all of this, there was no turning back now. We had to make this work, somehow.

I sat down on the empty bunk, taking the bag from Kris and rummaging through the hastily packed contents. My mind was still reeling from everything that had happened, and I just wanted a moment of peace. Kris stepped further into the cell, lowering his voice as he asked, "So, how did it go with Glenn?"

"That's just not something I want to talk about right now," I muttered, hoping to shut down the conversation before it started.

"Well, you can't just be his cellmate and avoid it," Kris pressed, his tone half-joking but laced with concern.

"Jesus, Kris—please!" I snapped, feeling my patience wearing thin. He never knew when to shut the hell up sometimes.

He put his hands up in mock self-defense, a sheepish look on his face. "I'm just saying..."

I ignored him, trying to focus on something, anything else. I pulled a blanket out of the bag and tossed it over the hard mattress I'd be sleeping on, trying to make this cold, unwelcoming cell feel a little more bearable.

Kris, ever the one to change the subject when things got too serious, looked around the cell and then back at me with a grin. "That Amy girl, she's cute."

I looked up at him in disbelief, shaking my head. That was my brother, always onto the next thing, never dwelling too long on anything. It was both comforting and exasperating, especially now, when everything felt like it was falling apart.

"She's like way older than you," I teased, unable to resist poking fun at him.

"I'm a grown man, okay? Plus, she was looking at me a lot," Kris shot back, puffing up his chest like he was trying to convince me—and maybe himself—that he was mature enough for the attention.

I snorted, unable to hold back the laughter at how ridiculous he could be. "Everybody was looking at us. We're the new kids on the block."

Kris shrugged, not deterred. "What about those people in there? They a part of your old group too?"

I knew he was referring to the group of survivors we'd seen locked away in another part of the prison. "Never seen them a day in my life. Never seen the one-legged old man, the blonde girl." I shrugged, the weight of it all making it easier to just brush off. "Not our problem."

Kris sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in his voice. "Well, you're depressing. I'm gonna go find my own cell."

"Okay," I replied as he turned to leave. But just as he was about to step out, something inside me made me call after him. "Hey," I said, my voice softer. "I love you."

He paused, looking back at me with a small smile. "Love you too, big sis."

As he walked away, leaving me alone in the cell, I couldn't help but feel a small comfort in those words. No matter how messed up everything else was, I still had Kris.

As the night deepened, sleep remained elusive. My mind was heavy with thoughts of Glenn, a constant, nagging presence that I couldn't shake. The prison was eerily quiet, every sound amplified in the stillness. I could hear every turn, every snore, every creak of the old building settling in the night. It was a kind of silence that left too much room for the thoughts I was trying to avoid.

At one point, I saw Glenn pass by my cell, carrying his things like he was moving out—maybe into another cell, maybe somewhere else. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to feel annoyed at the idea of him moving away from what we once shared or if I should revel in it. But all I felt was hate. A lot of hate. Yet, underneath that hate was a longing, a deep, painful ache. I missed him. And as much as I hated to admit it, I wished he had curled up in the bed right next to me, like old times.

But that was never going to happen. Not now.

The night dragged on, and things only got worse. Rick had gone ballistic on the other group, scaring them right out the door. The chaos he stirred was palpable, even from my cell. And then there was Maggie, storming around, her voice a low murmur of heated words exchanged with Hershel and Glenn. She was careful to keep her voice down, but I could tell there was an argument brewing—a serious one.

A part of me, the part that was still raw and hurting, couldn't help but take a twisted pleasure in the discord I was causing between them. The idea that I was driving a wedge between them, that I was somehow making them suffer, felt like a small victory. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough to suppress the anger that simmered beneath the surface, the anger that came from seeing them together, knowing what they had while I was left with nothing but memories and a hollow ache.

No matter how much I tried to push it down, the anger kept bubbling up, reminding me of everything I had lost, everything that had been taken from me. And the worst part was, I didn't know how to let it go. Not now. Not when the wound was still so fresh, still so deep.

I crawled out of bed, the weight of sleep eluding me, and tiptoed around the prison, navigating the unfamiliar corridors until I found myself outside. The yard seemed safe enough, the distant echo of walkers' moans and the quiet hum of nature a strange comfort. The fresh night air was a relief, cooling the tension that had been gnawing at me since I'd stepped into this place.

Rick was outside too, pacing back and forth with a restless energy. I wasn't sure if he had ever gone back inside since the last time I saw him. But he stopped when he noticed me, his stern expression softening just slightly as I approached.

I invited myself to stand beside him, feeling the tension between us as I tried to make conversation. "You keeping watch or something?"

He didn't answer immediately, just stared out into the distance with that same hard look on his face.

"You look like shit," I commented, trying to break the ice. "You should go sleep. I sure as hell ain't getting any."

"Having a hard time adjusting?" he asked, still not looking at me.

"You could say that. Never slept in a cell before."

"Yeah, well, with what we went through on the road, that bed is like a five-star hotel to us."

I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. "Still can't believe we were next-door neighbors for so long. Leave it up to Merle and the Governor to give us such a poor introduction."

The mention of Merle and the Governor sucked all the humor out of the conversation. Rick's face hardened again, the brief moment of lightness gone as quickly as it had come. He returned his gaze to the darkness, his posture tense and alert.

"Seriously," I said, trying to bridge the gap between us. "I'll take watch. I'd recognize his equipment from a mile away."

Rick seemed to battle with the idea, his distrust evident in the way he looked at me. But after a moment, he nodded to himself, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit as he met my gaze. There was still a trace of doubt in his eyes, but he was willing to let me take over, if only for a little while.

"Alright," he finally said, his voice low. "But if anything—anything—seems off, you come get me."

"Of course," I replied, knowing that earning his trust wasn't going to happen overnight, but grateful that he was willing to give me a chance

"Can I go in that guard tower, or do I have to walk a marathon like you were?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Yeah, it's open," he replied before strutting away and heading back into the prison.

I cautiously made my way to the tower, the darkness of the stairwell swallowing me as I climbed up. The air felt heavier here, the silence almost too loud as I reached the top. The room was empty, not even a chair to provide any comfort. It was just me, the dark, and the weight of my thoughts.

I leaned over the small table inside, peering out into the night as my mind began to wander. The quiet was both a curse and a comfort, giving me too much space to think, too much time to dwell on everything that had happened. The darkness outside felt endless, mirroring the turmoil inside me, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever find my way out of it.

This guard tower, this prison, these people—it was all so far removed from the life I'd known, from the person I used to be. And yet, here I was, trying to find my place in it all, trying to figure out how to move forward when the past kept pulling me back.

As I stood there, keeping watch over a world that felt more foreign than ever, I realized that this was just the beginning. There would be no easy answers, no quick fixes. Just the slow, painful process of rebuilding, of figuring out who I was in this new reality, and what I was willing to fight for.

My mind, of course, went back to Glenn, to the way he had looked at me, to the reality of him being with Maggie. It was like a cruel joke, a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. I had spent so many nights imagining our reunion, clinging to the hope that somehow, against all odds, we'd find our way back to each other. But the truth was so much harsher, so much more painful than anything I could've imagined.

The hate I felt—toward him, toward her, toward the entire situation—was overwhelming. But it was tangled up with something else, something I didn't want to admit even to myself. I missed him. I missed the life we had before everything went to hell. And as much as I wanted to hate him, as much as I wanted to be strong and cold and distant, I couldn't stop the ache in my chest, the part of me that still longed for him, even now.

And then there was the guilt, the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me I had no right to feel this way. I had made my choices. I had left. I had found my brother, and that was supposed to be enough. But it wasn't. Not when every step I took felt like I was walking on broken glass, every breath a reminder of what I'd lost.

The prison, the people here—they were all trying to rebuild, to create some semblance of a life after everything had been torn apart. But what did that mean for me? I didn't know where I fit in anymore. I didn't know if I could ever truly belong here, or anywhere. The thought was suffocating, the fear of being forever lost in this new world, never finding my way back to who I was, or to anything that felt like home.

Then, amidst the silence, I heard the unmistakable sound of someone climbing the steps to the tower. The faint creak of each step sent a shiver down my spine. Peering out the window, I caught sight of the figure making his way up, and my breath hitched in my throat as I realized who it was—Glenn.

Of all the people it could have been, it had to be him.

My heart dropped at the idea of being confined in this small space with him, the very man who had been haunting my thoughts, the one person I wasn't ready to face again so soon. The walls of the tower suddenly felt like they were closing in, the air thick with the tension that had been simmering between us since our paths had crossed again.

I had no idea what he wanted, what he could possibly say that would make any of this better. And the truth was, I didn't know if I could handle hearing anything from him right now. Not when every emotion was so raw, so close to the surface. The part of me that missed him, that still cared for him, was at war with the part that felt betrayed, abandoned.

As the door to the tower creaked open, I steeled myself, trying to lock away everything I was feeling, to put up the walls I knew I would need to get through this. But the second he stepped into the room, all of that resolve started to crumble, and I wasn't sure I was strong enough to keep it together.

We locked eyes the moment he opened the door. Glenn stood there, his posture awkward and uncertain, a sorrowful look on his still injured face. The sight of him, so close and so familiar, made my chest tighten.

"I saw you leave," he said quietly, his voice almost hesitant. "I was following, but then you started talking to Rick, and... well, you came up here."

"That's what happened," I replied, my tone laced with sarcasm, unable to hide the bitterness that had taken root inside me.

Glenn fully entered the room, closing the door behind him, the small space between us feeling even smaller. He came to stand beside me, his presence overwhelming, and I found myself at a loss for words. My mind raced with thoughts of what I could say, what I should say, but nothing felt right.

For so long, I had imagined this moment, playing out a hundred different scenarios in my head. But now that it was here, now that he was standing right next to me, it almost felt like there was nothing left to say. The weight of everything that had happened hung between us, too heavy, too complicated to untangle with words alone.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, the silence between us thick with unresolved emotions. Part of me wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I'd been carrying. But another part of me just wanted to crumble into his arms, to pretend that things could go back to the way they were.

Glenn reached out, his hand brushing through the lengths of my hair. "Your hair this long is really pretty," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

I flinched at his touch, a mix of surprise and tension coursing through me, but I didn't move out of his reach. "Didn't care to cut it anymore," I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady, as if his touch wasn't unraveling something inside me.

His hand moved from my hair to my arm, his fingers tracing down my skin with a gentleness that sent goosebumps across my body. When his hand found mine, he held it, taking a step closer, the distance between us narrowing until it felt like there was none at all.

"I'm still trying to convince myself you're real," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really here in front of me."

I turned to fully face him, taking in the details of his features under the pale moonlight. The cuts and bruises on his face, the way his eyes searched mine, the quiet desperation in his expression—it was all so painfully familiar, yet so different. "I know the feeling," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

And then, without warning, Glenn pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me with a kind of desperation. My body froze beneath him, caught between the instinct to pull away and the deep, buried longing to melt into his embrace, to find solace in the familiarity of his touch.

I couldn't help but hug him back, melting into his embrace as it became tighter, him squeezing me like he was scared I was going to disappear out of his arms at any moment. The warmth of his hold, the way he clung to me like I was his lifeline, broke through the walls I had tried so hard to keep up.

"You have every right to be pissed with me," he whispered into my ear, his voice thick with emotion, still not letting me go.

The reminder made me squirm under him, the reality of our situation crashing back down on me. But Glenn wasn't letting up. His arms tightened around me, refusing to let go, as if he could somehow keep us both together just by holding on.

"It's impossible for me to fix this right away," he said, his voice trembling with desperation.

"Yeah?" I managed to say, my voice quivering as I tried to keep myself together, but it was a losing battle.

"Please don't be like this with me—it's been too long, and you're here, and of course I still love you—I love you," he rambled, his words tumbling out in a rush as he finally pulled away just enough to cup the sides of my face, his eyes searching mine with a mix of hope and fear.

The raw sincerity in his voice, the way he said he still loved me, broke something inside of me. I couldn't hold it in anymore—the tears I had been fighting back forced their way out, spilling down my cheeks as I tried to make sense of everything. I wanted to be strong, to push him away, but the truth was, I had missed him so much it hurt. And hearing him say those words, words I had longed to hear for so long, shattered the fragile control I had been clinging to.

Glenn gently wiped at my tears, his touch tender and desperate. "Please don't cry, baby," he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt. "I'm so sorry for all of this. Everything. I should've found you—this is my fault."

I looked into his sorrowful eyes, trying to find the words, but all I could do was cry harder, the emotions I'd buried for so long finally breaking free. Small sobs erupted from my throat, the pain of everything we'd lost, everything that had changed, overwhelming me. The idea of telling him about the baby, of what we could have had, played on the edge of my tongue, but I couldn't force the words out. It was too much, too painful.

Glenn pulled me back into his arms, holding me tightly as I cried into his chest. He rubbed my back soothingly, the familiar gesture grounding me, even as my world felt like it was spinning out of control. As I held onto him, I couldn't help but notice how much he had changed—how much bigger and more muscular he'd become. He wasn't the same Glenn I had known before, just as I wasn't the same person either. We had both been through so much, changed in ways that were hard to even put into words.

It felt surreal, standing there in each other's arms after everything, knowing how much we had gone through apart as people who were once inseparable. The weight of all that time and distance hung between us, a silent reminder of the lives we had led without each other, the pain and growth that had happened in our absence.

I took a step back, finally feeling like my emotions were under control. Glenn let me, his eyes still watching my every move with a mixture of concern and longing. He then placed a lingering kiss on my forehead, his lips warm against my skin, and kept his body close to mine.

My hands fell to his abdomen, tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt, a reminder of how much he had changed. When he finished kissing my forehead, he brought his to mine, our eyes dangerously close, the space between us charged with an intensity that neither of us could ignore.

As we stared at each other, something in the air shifted. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface suddenly flared, turning into something raw, something that went beyond the words we'd exchanged. My body called to him in ways my mind hated, a desperate need surging through me that I couldn't suppress. I wanted his lips on mine, his hands on my skin.

Everything else—every hurt, every betrayal—was thrown out the window as I was faced with just him, just this moment, and the overwhelming need I felt to have him close, to have him on top of me, to forget everything that had come between us, if only for a little while.

Glenn's thumbs traced the contours of my face, gently brushing over my lips as he stared at me, his eyes filled with that same hunger I felt. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed hard, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

Unable to resist any longer, I inched forward, closing whatever gap remained between us, pressing my entire body against his. The warmth of his body felt like a lifeline, something solid to hold onto in the midst of all the chaos.

He bent down, placing a soft, almost tentative kiss on my lips, as if testing the waters, before wrapping his arms around my back and pressing his lips onto mine with a passion that left no room for doubt. My resolve crumbled in an instant, and I found myself deepening the kiss, pulling his face closer to mine, needing him in a way that made everything else fade away.

He swept his tongue over my lips, a familiar yet distant gesture, and I opened my mouth slightly, letting him in. It was both new and familiar, the taste of him, the feel of his mouth on mine, rekindling memories that had been buried under the weight of time and distance.

Glenn pushed me gently against the railing in the tower, his hands moving to my waist as he slid my shirt up just a bit, his fingers grazing over the smooth skin of my stomach. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, my breath hitching as the intensity of the moment grew.

Without much of a second thought, I began working at his belt, my hands moving with a practiced ease that suddenly felt like second nature. The familiarity of it all, the way we used to be, surged back, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

But then Glenn stepped back, his eyes scanning over me with a look of hesitation. It was as if he wasn't sure anymore, and for a split second, doubt crept into his expression. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice soft, filled with concern.

The question echoed in my mind, the weight of it pulling me back to reality. The truth was, I wasn't really sure. I had been caught up in the moment, in the flood of emotions, in the overwhelming need to feel something other than the pain. But now, faced with the reality of what we were about to do, uncertainty crept in.

It wasn't just about the physical connection—it was about everything that had happened, everything that had changed between us. The scars we both carried, the distance that had grown, the pain that had festered. I wasn't sure if this was the way to heal, or if it would only deepen the wounds.

But as I looked into his eyes, searching for answers, all I saw was the same longing, the same desperation to make things right, even if just for a moment.

I only nodded, too afraid that if I spoke, I might actually say no. But deep down, I knew that despite everything, I wanted him. Needed him. I wanted to feel like Glenn was still mine, even if just for this moment.

At my silent affirmation, Glenn wasted no time. He moved in closer, his lips trailing soft, tender kisses along my neck, then down to my chest, shoulder, and arm. Every touch sent a shiver through me, my skin tingling with anticipation. When his lips reached my stomach, I felt a fluttering sensation, a mix of nerves and excitement that I hadn't felt in so long.

As he reached my waistline, he stood back up, locking eyes with me as his fingers deftly unbuttoned my jeans. My face flushed with nerves, the sensation almost like I was losing my virginity all over again. It had been so long since anyone had touched me like this, and the fact that it was Glenn, the person who had once known every inch of me, made it all the more intense.

I helped him, kicking off my pants as he began to kiss me again, his fingers moving down to rub at the wetness growing beneath my panties. The sensation sent a wave of pleasure through me, my body reacting to his touch with an urgency that surprised me. It was like every nerve was on fire, every part of me alive and desperate for him.

We both moaned against each other's mouths, deeply enthralled in the moment, lost in the intensity of our situation. The heat between us was undeniable, a force that neither of us could resist. I lifted myself onto the console, briefly breaking the hungry kisses to spread my legs wider for him, giving him the access I craved.

Glenn didn't hesitate. He slid my panties to the side, his fingers slipping inside of me with a practiced ease that sent a jolt of pleasure through my body. I groaned low and deep, my head tilting back as I relished the feeling of him pushing in and out of me, the pressure building inside me like a tidal wave waiting to crash.

The sensation was overwhelming, every touch, every movement fanning the flames that had been simmering between us. As the tension inside me grew, I found myself backing away slightly from his kisses, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. I was desperate, aching for more, and I couldn't hold back the word that escaped my lips, a breathless whisper filled with need.

"Please," I begged, my voice trembling as I looked into his eyes, letting him see just how much I wanted him, needed him in that moment.

Glenn understood, and without a word, he undid his pants further, his erection slipping out like a prize meant for me. The sight of him made my pulse quicken, the anticipation almost too much to bear. I held my panties aside for him, bracing myself for the feeling of him inside me again after so long, a mixture of nerves and desire coursing through me.

I shivered as he rubbed the head of his cock against my wetness, teasing me briefly before finally pushing inside. The sensation was overwhelming, my throat erupting in a loud moan as he filled me, stretching me in a way that felt both familiar and brand new. The fullness, the pressure—it was everything I had been missing, everything I had been craving.

Glenn paused, his body trembling against mine, and I could hear the low, guttural groan that escaped his lips, reverberating in my ear. The sound sent a rippling wave of satisfaction through me, a reminder of how deeply connected we once were, and how, even now, my body could still make him react like this. The thought fueled the fire between us, making every movement, every touch, feel that much more intense.

He began to move, first slow and gentle, adjusting to the feeling of being inside me again. But soon, the pace quickened, turning into a steady, hard rhythm that made my whole body come alive. The small space around us was filled with nothing but our moans and the sound of our bodies moving together, lost in the intensity of the moment.

"Fuck," Glenn moaned out, his voice thick with pleasure as he looked into my eyes, his gaze burning with a desire that mirrored my own. He pressed his sweaty forehead against mine, his breath hot against my skin as he continued to thrust into me, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

"I missed you so much," I cried out, my voice trembling as I pushed myself closer to him, feeling his dick hit the perfect spot inside me, pressing against the bundle of nerves that made my entire body shudder with pleasure.

"I missed you so much more," he breathed out, his voice strained as he gripped my waist, holding me steady as he moved, his rhythm growing more urgent, more desperate. The connection between us, the raw need that drove us, felt almost overwhelming, like we were trying to make up for all the lost time in this one moment.

I felt myself getting closer and closer to my orgasm, the pressure building inside me with every thrust, every gasp. The intensity of it all was almost too much to bear, and I couldn't hold back the loud cry that escaped my lips, my body trembling as I reached for him, clinging to him like he was the only thing grounding me in this moment.

"Glenn," I moaned, my voice filled with desperation and need, as the pleasure surged through me, my body arching against his. The feeling was overwhelming, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge, the tension inside me winding tighter and tighter until I felt like I was going to explode.

His movements became more frantic, matching my desperation, and I could see the strain in his face, the way he was holding back, trying to prolong the moment. But I was right there with him, on the brink, and I knew I couldn't last much longer.

Finally, the pressure reached its peak, and I cried out loudly for him, my body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through me, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I held onto him, every sensation heightened by the intensity of our connection

Glenn kept fucking me as I held onto him, his movements becoming more frantic and desperate as he neared his own orgasm. The pleasure was overwhelming, but as it built, a sudden, stark clarity began to creep in, a deep fear settling in my stomach, twisting the sensations into something dark and terrifying.

As Glenn groaned, his hot seed beginning to fill me, the fear took hold, overpowering everything else. The thought of getting pregnant again, of going through that pain all over, hit me like a wave. I yelped, pushing him away instinctively, panic surging through my veins.

Glenn stumbled back, confusion and concern etched on his face as he looked at me, his cum dripping onto my leg. "I'm sorry," I blurted out, my voice trembling with the weight of what I couldn't quite say.

"It's okay," he breathed out, his expression softening, clearly unaware of the real issue that had gripped me so suddenly.

But I couldn't shake the fear, the panic that had surged through me. The thought of getting pregnant again, of carrying that burden, was too much. It was as if the pleasure from moments ago had been replaced by a cold, suffocating dread.

I quickly pulled on my pants, my hands trembling as I avoided looking at him. The shame and embarrassment of losing control, of letting this happen, washed over me, making it hard to even face him.

"You should get back," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "We don't need the drama right now."

"Oh—okay," Glenn stuttered, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift. He leaned in to kiss me again, but I turned my head, letting his kiss fall onto my cheek instead. The gesture felt like a hollow echo of what we had just shared, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

I watched him leave, the door closing behind him with a finality that felt almost suffocating. I was left alone in the small tower room, my mind reeling from the whirlwind of emotions and the weight of what had just unfolded between us. The confusion, the fear, the guilt—it all swirled inside me, making it impossible to process the moment.

All I could do was stand there, staring at the spot where he had been, trying to make sense of the tangled mess of feelings that had taken hold of me.

Be REAL- I was like, what would I do in this situation and I have fallen to the entrapments of break up n make up sex tooo many times for me to feel like it's unrealistic XDDD