Haunted | Daryl Dixon

50. Threats That Bind

"I've got something for you that I would bet ten big ol' bucks you haven't seen since before the dead started chomping on live flesh." Negan was quick to leave behind his initial bewilderment and mask it with what appeared to be his usual obnoxious attitude.

From her spot still on the ground, Evelyn lolled her head to the side to face him, still so high on her own hysterics that she didn't even bother acting as though she were planning on attacking him.

Without waiting for her to respond, the man split his face into a wide grin and revealed something she hadn't even realized he was hiding behind his back.

"Yes, Eva, your eyes do not deceive you." Smith laughed loud enough for the sound to echo off of the walls, "This is a real, genuine, homemade pizza. Had one of my men whip it up. Fresh outta the oven."

Evelyn eyed what had come to be a delicacy in the world they lived in on the platter held before her eyes, but her mind traveled to his words beyond the food, "Your men," She mused, shaking her head in such a manner that part of her knotted and matted down hair fell onto her forehead.

His men. The saviors. The terrible, torturous people that she and her group had encountered on multiple occasions.

A frown tugged at Negan's lips upon her tone of voice and his back straightened, leather jacket suddenly glistening in the dim light of the room in such a way that made him glow slightly, "Yes, my men." He cleared his throat, "Look, I know it's a lot to wrap your mind around-"

Wright rolled her eyes with a scoff, "Oh, do you, now?"

There was a muscle in the man's jaw that clenched at her words, but he was quick to smooth it away with another charming smile that- under any other circumstance- would have brought Evelyn back to her college years and beyond whenever the man would try to deflect his emotions. It seemed that not everything had changed.

It appeared as though he had been waiting for her to spring up and attempt to fight and flee once more, but was pleasantly surprised when she didn't. All the fight had left her body, afterall.

"Come on, Eva," He inclined his head towards a small table with two chairs pushed against one of the walls, striding over before setting the pizza on it, "Let's eat."

She just stared at him, blinking once. Twice. Almost as if she were trying to understand the audacity that he had. To stroll back into the room, food in hand and expect them to have a civil meal together.

Let alone the fact that she hadn't actually been able to even fully process that Negan Smith was standing before her- and all of the horrific events that had occurred at his hand.

He sighed and turned to her when she just stared blankly at him and didn't lift a muscle to move, "Listen, I know we have a lot to talk about. But let's do it at the table, not with you sitting on the ground like I just kicked you down there."

Might as well have.

Evelyn's eyes swept over his features. Over the beard that adorned the lower half of his face. Over the hard, coldness that had once not been there that now rested in his eyes. Over his stance that demanded attention the reeked of authority.

The man that stood before her was not one that she had been familiar with before the world came to an end.

"Who are you?" She whispered suddenly, pure confusion and sorrow seeping into her tone.

A flash of hurt crossed Negan's features, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared when he seemingly forced a glare to narrow in on her, "I could ask you the same question. The Evelyn I knew would not be caught dead within a hundred mile radius of Daryl Dixon." He spat the name out as if it were venom, "And now I see you for the first time in years, defending him." He dropped to a squat so that he was eye level with her, despite being across the room, "Have you forgotten everything he did to you?"