Lost ; Daryl Dixon

Chapter 27

'Hello Negan.'

The prisoner before you let out a raspy chuckle as he watched you move closer through the bars of his cell, his tongue snaking out over his bottom lip as he waited to see what you'd say next. But you couldn't speak. Hatred and anger were bubbling up within you and combining to render you completely mute, though your eyes sparked with rage. If it wasn't for the cool metal poles that kept him from your reach you were sure you'd be launching yourself at him, pounding every inch of him with your fists until he was battered and bleeding, and only then would you do him the service of putting a bullet through his skull. But he was protected by the very thing intended to punish him, so instead you began to pace, back and forth, letting your frustration out through your frantic movements.

'Say, doll, not that I'm not enjoying the entertainment of watching you pull your pretty hair out, but what exactly are you doing here?'

'I needed to see you,' you admitted, though you couldn't bring yourself to face him, couldn't stand still until you'd regained your composure, which seemed beyond the realms of possibility in that moment.

'And why's that? Having some regrets about turning me down back at the Sanctuary, huh, princess? Trust me, it happens.'

'Because I hate you,' you spat, and suddenly all of the energy drained from your body and you found yourself collapsing to the ground, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as though they could shield you from the monster that was watching you with rapt fascination. 'I hate everything about you, and I hate what you did to me.'

'What I did to you?' His handsome features contorted in a cruel sneer. 'I gave you a choice. You can't blame me because you made the wrong one.'

'The wrong one?' You shook your head in disbelief. 'There was no choice! Did you really think there was the slightest chance that I would actually sleep with you? You're disgusting!'

'I never asked you to fucking sleep with me, doll. I offered you a life of luxury for the simple act of saying yes to my proposal. Anything else, well, that was all in your head. Hey, I don't blame you! Too long with Daryl, any girl would be looking for a real man to help her scratch her itches, shall we say.'

'No, no, that's not true.' You forced your memory back to the day he'd come to you in your cell, the options he'd laid out. 'Wifely duties, you said. What does that mean if not-'

'It means fetching me my damn dinner and bringing my laundry up from the wash room.' The sneer hadn't left his face and you longed to slap it away. 'Shit, sweetheart, I'm an old-fashioned kinda guy.'

'You lying son of a bitch!'

Negan held his hands up in mock surrender, arching his eyebrow at you as he tutted loudly. 'Now, now. I'm not gonna be held responsible just cos your mind's in the gutter, princess.'

You were gaining nothing by continuing down this road, and so you levered yourself to your feet, and took a step towards him, noting the anticipation in his face as you drew closer.

'I didn't come here to talk about choices, or being your wife, or any of the shit that went down at the Sanctuary.'

'So, why did you come here? Was it really just to tell me that you hate me? Cos, shit, I honest to goodness coulda guessed that myself without the memo. Every person in this place fucking hates me, and I get it, I do. Nobody likes the boss-man, right? But all I ever did was try to help you people.'