The Only One | Negan

24. Carpe Diem

The house was not a far drive from where we were so after about half an hour we parked in front of its marble steps.

Dusk was falling on the forest and a soft wind ruffled the tree tops.
I took Cherry out of the backseat and Negan opened the front door, letting himself in first so he could check for any danger. Gladly, the house was just the way we left it, nothing changed and nothing was out of place as we walked in the living room. I let the puppy out of my hands and she started slowly sniffing around and cautiously walked the different rooms. She had never seen a house before, I realized, so it was all new to her as she tried to get up on the sofa and couldn't make it.

"Nah-uh, no dirty dogs on the couch." Negan waved a finger at the puppy and it wiggled its tail, completely unaware that this was supposed to be scolding. I watched them, giggling quietly. It was amusing - Negan, in his bloodied leather jacket and gun tucked in his jeans, trying to talk to the small white puppy, that looked even smaller compared to Negan's height.

"Let's give her a quick bath and then I'll make spaghetti for the three of us." I said, leaning against the headrest of the couch. I tilted my head in a haze, watching him pick the puppy up from the floor and snuggle it in his chest.

"No, sweet thing, tonight I'm gonna cook for you. And for the dog." Negan put the pup back on the floor and slowly came to stand in front of me, his hand snaking around my waist as he pulled our bodies together. He then leaned in and kissed me so goddamn good, that my mind went completely blank. His tongue slowly moved against mine and a shiver went down my spine. He pulled away with a cocky grin. "Go wash the dog and take a shower. I'll see what I can do about the dinner."

"Say no more, boss." I replied and he moved to the side so I could go. I picked up the puppy and made my way up the stairs and into the shower.

The pup was scared to death of the shower at first but quickly got used to it, as I started rubbing shampoo in its fur with a soft brush. When she was ready, I wrapped her in a towel and dried her up. Then I let her roam the house freely but she was captured by the scent of cooking food and went straight down the stairs, tumbling a little, and into the kitchen.

I looked at myself in the mirror - my hair was a mess, face dirty, the cut on my cheek was becoming a deep red color. Except for the two gashes on my thighs, there were bruises on my ribs and arms. I looked terrifying. So I tried to scrub off all of the dried-up blood, mine and not mine, I washed and detangled my hair and shaved every bit of my body to perfection. I scrubbed so hard that my skin turned pink. I found some iodine solution in the cupboard under the sink and cleaned all my wounds. I washed my teeth a couple of times, washed my face, and finally looked a bit less like a walker.

It was kind of funny - doing all these things in the middle of the apocalypse. But at the same time, I felt like if I didn't, then I wouldn't be myself. I couldn't stand myself dirty and bloodied and it made me feel better. Like I was washing away all the sins, all the negativity and anger off of me. All the death.

So when I was ready I called out to Negan and went to get dressed. I heard the bathroom door closing and laid down on the bed still in my towel for a couple of minutes, comprehending everything that happened. The whole thing made my stomach bubble with anticipation and nervousness. Everything was happening way too fast and I felt as if I couldn't catch up.

Then I got dressed in a loose T-shirt and some shorts I found and went downstairs. I took a big sip of the whiskey that we had left on the table to calm my nerves and sat on the couch next to Cherry, who was curled up in a snoring ball. Poor puppy. At least she wasn't as wild as I thought she was going to be, given she never knew human touch. But her appearing out of nowhere by the road seemed like a sign. Like an omen. Like an answer to my thoughts and daydreams back in the cell.