No matter how many times I stated I didn't need a babysitter, Negan was adamant that I stay by his side at all times. That inevitably meant breakfast together, meetings together, lunch together, me sitting next to him while he did paperwork, coming with him on his trips and runs, then dinner together, inventory check together, dealing with people together, me watching him torture people for information, interrogating together and even me reading a book while he worked out and cleaning our guns together. At least it was educational for me, because I saw firsthand how and what he did as the leader of the Saviors and how a day of his went. Before I thought he didn't do much dirty work, but it turned out I was wrong. I also saw him in all sorts of ways - from a calm and compassionate leader, who consoled a mother, whose son died while on a run, to a hard and absolutely brutal leader, who punished a guy for stealing food straight out of the storage unit.
Negan didn't lie when he said I'm gonna like the new room. It was definitely bigger than the old one and not as simple and plain. It had a double bed with expensive sheets, a sofa and a coffee table, a big bookcase with all kinds of books and other stuff, a vanity with a mirror, a CD player. The bathroom was also nicer and the windows were bigger, which made the room sunny and I liked it. The wardrobe was way too spacious for the amount of clothes I had, but when I opened it, I saw that it was already stocked with new clothes that looked like they would fit me. Privileges, huh? Alright. Except for the regular ones like t-shirts, jeans, and sweatshirts, there were a couple of dresses that contrasted vastly from all the blacks and grays with their soft pastel colors. Negan really did a lot. I wondered if he did that for all of his lieutenants when he promoted them. It was closer to his room, like he said, just down the corridor. Maybe all of his closest men were accommodated in that hallway.
Two weeks and a half had passed and my head was completely fine, except for the occasional migraine, which Carson said was normal and to be expected. It wasn't new to me though, because I used to have hardcore headaches even before the whole apocalypse started. The problem was that the only medication that did help with the migraines was scarce and I didn't want to take much of it from the infirmary of the Sanctuary in case other people needed it.
With that, Negan insisted we go to Alexandria to see if they have enough Ibuprofen of exactly 500 mg with vitamin B for me. I was more than happy because I hadn't seen my family for quite some time with everything that had been happening and I missed them a lot. I was jittery with excitement during the ride there which earned me a raised eyebrow look from Negan, but he didn't say anything.
During the last few days, when we were together most of the time, he was acting very soft when we were alone and then completely unhinged when in front of other people. Of course, there was quite a bit of talk about us, people noticed we spent a lot of time together, there was talk about Dwight, about the whole wife thing, but nobody dared say anything in front of Negan. People still kneeled down when he passed and given his more violent behavior recently they were even more scared of him than usual.
I can't deny that his gentle demeanor around me was really starting to make the feelings in me sprout like wildflowers. I tried to suppress them, but whenever his hand was on my waist or gingerly rubbing my shoulder or when he made me laugh with some sort of a dumb joke, the fire in the pit of my stomach just burst into tall flames. I told myself repeatedly that I shouldn't even be thinking about him, let alone have whatever feelings for him. The denial was going to slowly eat me alive if I didn't do anything about it. I couldn't even tell how those feelings managed to break through my heart and what provoked them.
But there was something goddamn attractive in the way his hand gripped the steering wheel, his other one stroking his salt and pepper beard. His brows were a bit furrowed as he stared at the road ahead, his mind obviously elsewhere. I shuffled in my seat.
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The Only One | Negan
Fanfiction"If love manages to sprout from the soil that hatred has irrigated, then that means it must be true love." What are you capable of doing to protect the ones you love? What about the ones you hate? What makes you fall for someone who you just know yo...
