burning bridges /negan.

XXIV.

XXIV.
- heavenly : cigarettes after sex -
"this is where i want to be, where it's so sweet and heavenly"

the drive back to the sanctuary feels longer than on the way out. i attempt to stifle a yawn, but he catches it.

"shut your eyes" he tells me. but i shake my head sleepily.

"i was promised a good time upon arrival back at the sanctuary" i tease, "if i fall asleep now i know you'll just put me to bed".

he laughs. his eyes light up the way they often do when we're together.

"shit. you sure it was a promise?"

i nod, grinning. he squeezes my inner thigh in his hand and i let out a small, involuntary moan.

i look up at him desperately. his perfect teeth, smiling that perfectly smug smile. his slightly unkempt stubble; the stubble that drives me wild when it scratches between my legs. hair slicked back like he's the star of an old glamour movie.

"well, i never break my promises."

i tense up as he moves his hand slowly to the zipper of my jeans. i find myself breathing deep and desperately, as if fresh air were running out.

his fingers linger above the fabric. when they make contact, he brushes over the spot that always feels best. he palms me and strokes in circles, my clothes creating unbearable friction.

i need his hands on my skin. i buck my hips towards him, attempting a silent signal.

he tuts in response.

"what's wrong doll?" he taunts me.

"negan don't. please." i beg.

he pulls his hand away. "oh. you want me to stop?"

i feel frustration building inside me. it's almost unbearable.

i shoot out my hands and grab his, pulling it back to where i need him.

eyes still fixed firmly on the road, he traces my zipline upwards and then slowly pulls it down. working his fingers beneath the fabric and between me.

i swear under my breath. his fingers feel so good. calloused and rough, but he touches so gently. each stroke calculated, as if he has planned my pleasure.

my neck rolls back as i whimper, and moan, and melt into his hands.

but we hit something. i jump to attention abruptly. the truck jolts suddenly, and guts splatter across the windscreen.

"hot diggity dog" he laughs. the windscreen wipes smear dark blood across the glass. he grips both hands back on the steering wheel to steady us. i relax back into my seat and laugh with him.

i rest my head on the door beside me and tuck my legs onto the seat. starting to rest to the hum of ground passing under the truck, negan speaks up.

"you made me proud today bill".

a small smile creeps across my face. bill. i like that.

his voice reminds me of a man i used to know, a neighbour on my street. mr walsh he was called, shane. i've been reminiscing about life before more often these days; i keep finding pieces of my past in the people of my present. shane worked for the sheriff's department i think. he probably stood a fair chance of survival.

"hold on kid, shit's about to get bumpy!"

i haul myself to sit up. negan's got the headlights on. i can see what he sees now. there's a walker stumbling in the road far ahead. he starts to speed. as we get closer to the thing, i watch it lift an arm to shield it's eyes from our lights.

"negan stop! they're alive!" i shout frantically.

he slams down on the breaks and we roll to a halt at the feet of the stranger. i climb onto the dashboard to try and get a better look. the person cranes their neck to look up at me. our eyes connect and fear flashes across hers.

it's a girl.

"pass me lucille" negan orders. i pick the bloodied bat up tentatively and hand it to the man, "and stay put. do you hear me?"

not likely. i open my side door and move to jump out. he grabs my arm, with no attempt at gentleness, but i shrug him off.

"no, i could help!"

he sighs and steps out of his side. i do the same. once i'm stood i stay hidden behind the truck door.

"well what do we have here?" negan's voice booms and breaks the stale silence.

fellow saviours start to crowd around, i look to my left and catch simon's eyes. he lifts his head at me, as if warning me to stay put too.

"i'm negan. and you, were almost roadkill."

arrogance drips from every word he speaks. there is silence still. it's as if even nature fears him. the cicadas have stopped twitching and humming.

"that would not have been cool." he continues.

i lean around the door and sneak a glimpse at the girl on her knees before negan. she looks young too. but maybe older than me. tanned skin and a fresh scar across her chest. muddy brown hair pulled back into two braids.

"dulcie." the girl speaks. "my name is dulcie."
her accent is thick.

"well hello dulcie" he sing songs, swinging lucille intimidatingly.
"don't be rude, introduce yourselves." negan addresses the men surrounding us.

"i'm negan" simon states, "i'm negan" dwight repeats, then arat and gary too. the whole group declares it like an echo.

"just do it already, negan. if you're going to kill me; get on with it" the girl stabs back at him.

i know that's not what he's planning. but i sense her fear, and it's justified.

he scoffs, leaning in close to her "not gonna happen sweetheart," he speaks calmly, before lifting her chin with the tip of lucille.
"in fact. i'm offended you'd think so low of me."

"let's wrap this up people" he removes the bat from the girl's chin and walks away.

two men rush to her sides and grab her arms, forcing her to stand. she grunts and struggles to escape their grip but fails. don't fight it, i think. as if she can hear my thoughts.

i shuffle my feet and snap a twig beneath them. fuck. her eyes snap to where i'm stood. i gasp and shoot back behind my cover.

"get your ass back in that seat. now." negan appears behind me. i do as he says, and he slams the door behind me.