ELEANOR . NEGAN

041.

The house was empty when she came back, eerily quiet and dreadful. Negan was outside in the gardens, being followed by a twenty-odd year old guard who scolded him if he picked the wrong vegetable.

His brown eyes followed Elle when she walked to her house, but he felt confused and a bit butt hurt when she didn't spare him a glance. He soon pulled away when the guard nudged him in the side with a stick, but his worry for the woman didn't leave his gut.

Arriving at her home, the first thing she did was strip herself from clothes and tug on a short nightie. She only wore it because she liked to sleep naked, but she couldn't do that in case something happened in the night. At least this way she wouldn't be exposed but could also "sleep" comfortably.

Before she went back downstairs and crack open a bottle of whiskey, she pulled on her dressing gown and stopped outside of Maya's bedroom. She still had the delicate paint and drawn on flowers around the wood and cold, rainbow-coloured 'MAYA' on the middle piece. Except now, she had a tiny phrase underneath her name: fuck off.

Elle never listened. She opened up her door, only the slightest, and smiled at her sleeping frame. Sixteen years of age and still clutched onto her blanket like it was a person. Eleanor wouldn't judge her though — she did the same thing.

Knowing she was okay, and safe, she walked downstairs and lit her fireplace and waltzed to a certain cabinet in her kitchen. It was her alcohol collection that was running out by the second, but nonetheless she picked up a bottle of whiskey and sat down on her settee.

The more she thought, the more she drunk.

Having a real conversation with Carol about her gnarly past that she loved to bury away and forget, only brought it back tenfold. Except this time, it wasn't met with tears but only relief. The fact that Asadi now rested in peace without the worry of blood on his hands, brought a small smile onto her features.

Then she thought about all the others she's lost, and how they were safer away from this shithole. And she only felt relief. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel angry or upset, just relieved.

And then she started to think she had too much alcohol. Eleanor Stark was used to the pain because it was all she felt from the day she could speak. And now suddenly? Suddenly she was filled head to toe with relief.

Strange.

Knocking herself out from her forest of thoughts was the echo of her front door closing and the clashing of heavy boot falling to the floor. For a second, she forgot Negan's residency was with her. I need to speak to Gabe.

Not really thinking about it, she tugged her dressing gown closer around her and dragged her green eyes to his presence. Instantly, she was met with the same glance. "Alright, doll?" He asked with that stupid, teasing grin. "Looking cozy."

"Eat shit-"

"Holy fucking shit, sunshine." Negan placed his blue button-up that he used as a jacket on the back of a kitchen stool and walked over, his socked feet padding against the floor. Finally the void of silence was filled. "Someone's panties are in a twist." He winked, "Need help untwisting them?"

Elle stared at him, her lips agape. "Yes."

"What?"

She smirked, "Piss off."

Negan huffed with that same ghost of a smirk while he placed his large hand against his heart. "You hurt me, Ellie."

"You hurt me too."

He could sense in the tone of her voice that it was so far from the truth, but also so close. And he knew why from his and Maya's conversation earlier. Without saying anything, he sat himself besides Elle and she didn't even protest.