ELEANOR . NEGAN

111.

The aftermath of mind-blowing sex should be euphoric, ecstatic, lovely and amazing. But it fucking wasn't, not for Eleanor at least.

As soon as she stepped out the shower with a colourful towel around her body, she had to stop and stare at the mirror. It got to the point where it was hard to decipher her tattoos from bruised skin. It all blended in.

There were two harsh coloured hand prints around her neck towards the base of her collarbones, sickening red and purple as it melted towards her tattoos. Her jaw was off-coloured from the cheap shot jaw punch she got and her back was all scratched and bruised from being slammed into the wooden cabin walls.

When she looked down at her hands, she had to let out a staggering breath because her knuckles were fucked. She knew they were or partially knew (because Leah's blood tainted every slither of skin she had) but to see her skin split and awkwardly bruised around her fingers said enough.

Negan watched from afar though, watching as she took in her tainted beauty of scars and bruises. It's weird because she looked at them like they were disgusting, like it changed who she was on the outside. But Negan looked at her like she was beauty beyond any words he could say.

The man was never a poet but he's sure he could write a million words about her and still never live up to her beauty.

"I'll grab you some clothes, sunshine." He pressed a tender kiss to her cheek and grazed the small of her back before he went to grab the clothes Carol left out for her.

Eleanor smiled meekly but her eyes stayed stuck on the mirror. There were scars everywhere, stab wounds in the flesh of her arms and grazes by her legs. She could see the faded bullet wound by her leg and the scars on her knees whenever she grazed them.

But her arms was the most unsettling part for her. The jagged scars from Carver and Leah back in Meridian juxtaposed against her skin and it made her feel just gross.

"Get a grip," she scolded before turning her back on the mirror.

A couple of seconds later, Negan walked in with folded clothes in a pile. He placed them on the counter and stepped back, waiting for her next move.

"I don't know how I feel anymore." She admitted, rubbing her nose. "But... I think I'll be alright."

"Ellie," he stepped forward. "You're the strongest goddamn person I know. You'll fucking smash this, don't you worry."

She laughed, and then he did, before she slotted herself between his arms and listened to his heart through his cotton top. "I don't think I can do this without you."

"Good thing I ain't going."

With a lasting kiss to her forehead, Negan grabbed the long sleeve cotton top and carefully snugged it over her head. She smiled gratefully and finished getting ready.

After they were both done, they sat quietly yet comfortably in the living room as they waited for Carol to come back. They were only waiting for five minutes until the front door opened, a careful Carol walking through with a know-it look.

She didn't say much but she cast her eyes to Eleanor and smiled a sympathetic one before looking at Negan. "You ready?"

He nodded and looked at Eleanor. "You're gonna be alright, doll." He cupped her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. "Eat up, rest — we won't be long."

"Mhm." She smirked. "Don't get your ass handed to you."

He scoffed and stood up, "Watch it."

Eleanor rolled her eyes, all bark, no bite, and pulled him down by the cusp of his top to kiss him. He hummed gratefully into the kiss and a bit relieved that they've got to a point where she was no longer afraid to show her feelings in front of other people.