BItter hearts

Chapter 10

Y/N’s POV

Your hands shook as you unlocked the door to your bedroom, pushing it open and stepping aside to let Negan pass. Now fully clothed, it still sent a shiver of pleasure through you as his arm brushed yours, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering their wings at the sense memory of his touch and what it had done to you less than an hour ago. It was stupid, you knew, bringing him back here. You should have pulled on your clothes and walked away as soon as the act was finished, but the affection in his eyes wouldn’t let you. As if, by letting him in, you’d opened up an old wound, and you had to find a way to ensure it healed properly this time, instead of leaving behind a ragged scar. And so, unable to stay there on the canteen floor where anybody might walk in and discover you, you’d beckoned for him to follow you.

And now, here you were.

It had never felt small with you as the only occupant, but with Negan dominating the space, it suddenly felt cramped. He was so tall, so broad-shouldered, so real and solid and there. As he sank down onto your bed, groaning a little at the comfort that he’d grown so unaccustomed to, you found that you were looking around for somewhere to put yourself, feeling out of place all of a sudden, unsure of yourself, until he patted the covers beside him.

‘You not gonna join me, doll? Only seems fair. It is your bed after all.’

It was tempting. So damn tempting. You could still taste him on your tongue, feel the delicious ache deep within you from the space he’d carved out for himself, and it would be so easy to do as he said, curl up at his side and let him hold you, maybe lose yourself in him all over again. Except that it was a fine line to walk, both because of your history and because of who you were and the responsibilities that rested on your shoulders, so, instead, you hoisted yourself up onto the window sill, feet resting on the now defunct radiator beneath.

‘Suit yourself,’ he huffed, rolling on to his side to fix you with a questioning look. ‘Guess you wanna talk about this then, huh, sweetheart?’

‘I don’t know. I think I need to figure out how I feel about it before I can talk about it,’ you admitted. ‘This isn’t… It’s not why I was looking for you tonight.’

‘Didn’t think for a second it was. These things, when they’re right, they have a way of becoming inevitable though, don’t you think?’

‘I think I had a momentary slip after spending too long having to maintain control, of myself, of everything. I’m not sure that makes this right.’

‘Doesn’t make it wrong either,’ he observed.

You sighed. Was he right? Was it inevitable? Maybe… After all, you’d found him again, even after the world as you knew it had fallen apart. Was there such a thing as destiny? Surely not. ‘What do you want from me, Negan?’

‘A second chance.’ His answer was swift, tripping from his tongue without hesitation, his gaze sincere as he watched for your reaction. ‘You mind if I speak freely here, doll? Since it’s just you and me here ‘n’ all.’ He waited for your nod before he went on. ‘See, I think I know you pretty well, Y/N, the girl you were and the woman you’ve become. I see this mask you put on for the people around you and I hear the speeches, the performance that you’ve honed to perfection. And you know what I’ve realised?’

‘That I’m kind of a bitch?’ You were aiming for humour, but it fell short, raising only the smallest of smiles.

‘That you’re scared. You’re fucking terrified of what might happen if you let somebody, anybody, in. Because what if they turn on you, what if they come after what you’ve got, or what if they do the absolute worst thing they could do and hurt you like I did? Am I right?’