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chapter one: god made a mistake.
RACHEL'S EYESIGHT WAS blinded for a long second after staring at the sun too long. It's easy to forget how blinding it can be after so much time in the shadows.
She narrowed her eyes and brought her fingertips to her temple, rubbing her eyes to try to soothe the sudden headache. She then, felt the compulsion of piercing the skin of her fingernails with her teeth, an habit she had recently picked up as a small, yet tangible distraction.
As the dawn broke, the cold breeze of early morning caressed her skin allowing Rachel to be swayed by the wind. She blinked and proceeded to stare at the building she called home.
The sanctuary stood tall with grey concrete walls, dull and vacant of life. Most of the times, she avoided looking too much into the old industry, she preferred much more the sight of towering trees and wild grass that persisted throughout the decay of the world.
To avoid the temptation of picking at her fingernails, Rachel fetched a cigarette from its pack and placed it between her lips, her hands searching her pockets for a lighter. She mentally scolded herself upon remembering Dwight had borrowed it the night before. It wasn't really an issue; she could easily retrieve another from her room or claim one from anyone she encountered. However, the thought of leaving the mesmerizing view for such a frivolous reason felt almost sacrilegious.
Negan tread quietly towards her, stopping just behind her waiting for a sign of acknowledgement. Rachel had heard the dry leafs crunching and harbored no doubt that Negan had approached her, it could only be him. He had the kindness of lighting her cigarette and then, taking one for himself. She rolled her eyes, bothered by his presence that clashed with her previous solitude that she was enjoying.
Negan and Rachel were no longer strangers, their versatile relationship had evolved into a somewhat friendship; they had found an odd sense of stability in each other, even if it was sometimes masked by annoyance or conflict. But neither of them had the pleasure of enjoying the friendship of others, they were both too complicated for anyone else to handle. So perhaps it was just merely the circumstances that tied them.
They fell into a safety routine, one where both of them pretended everything they did was normal. Thanks to this unspoken understanding, the eccentricities of their coping mechanisms were deemed normal, even the weird visions Rachel had of her former best friend and the attachment Negan had to Lucille, the wired bat he treated as if it were alive.
They weren't rare the days Negan found Rachel speaking to herself, so much he would say he knew Crystal as much as he knew Rachel. In the many conversations they had, she'd tease him, "I've never met a killer with that much style." Running up Negan's figure, noting his slicked raven hair and his black leather jacket. "You like it?" He'd make a quick turn with a sly smirk. It's then when Crystal's whispering would participate, and in her ear she'd say, "He needs a pop of color." Rachel would nod, agreeing. "I'd be better with a red bandana to top it all."
