CONQUEST • Negan

Guts

"What d'ya think?"

I lifted my chin, which had been resting on Judith's head as I rocked her to sleep on the kitchen chair whilst chatting softly with Carl who was filling me in on everything I had missed while gone. Beyond the steadily depleting food supply and growing hunger and aggravation, there wasn't much for him to report on.

Squinting up at Negan, my eyes roamed over his face, instantly latching onto his freshly shaven chin and upper lip. This guy was really marking his territory by shaving his face in another man's home. I wouldn't be shocked if he chose to piss in the corner next.

Negan lifted his brows in question and shrugged, wide grin beaming. "Felt like I was due a shave," he said.

Staring at him for a long moment, I gnawed on my bottom lip as my face creased in a contemplative frown.

He must've read the disapproval in my eyes because that hopeful grin dimmed a little and his shoulders slumped. "You don't like it, huh?"

Clamping down on the apologetic smile that fought to soften the blow to his ego, I instead maintained my stoicism, allowing the wound to settle and fester his arrogance. A little humble reminder that Negan wasn't, in fact, God's gift to mankind as he so proudly believed himself to be, was well overdue, and I was more than happy to deliver that reminder.

Clearing my throat, careful not to jostle the baby in my arms as she huffed out gentle snores, I said, "Honestly? I preferred the beard."

I inwardly slapped myself. So much for knocking him down a peg. I only managed to boost that damn ego by serving him compliment on top of my displeasure with his new look, even if it was still sort of backhanded. I knew by the smug spark in his eye that I wasn't gonna live this one down.

But I had spoken the truth. I did prefer the beard. I was a damn sucker for a rugged face.

"Yeah?" Negan smirked. "I'm plenty capable of growing it back. And I'm more than happy to do so just for you, since... well y'know, we've actively made some major progress in our relationship just now. Communication is very important for a happy love life, so... in honour of maintaining said communication, if you say you like the beard, then Dice, baby, I will grow the beard."

I scoffed, just as I overheard Negan murmuring to himself, "I knew you were attracted to me." A blindingly giddy smile smeared across his face. The smile was almost boyish, almost cutely so, reminding me of a smitten kid finding out their crush liked them back.

Only I didn't like him back.

I mean, he was hot. Arguably, the most attractive man I had ever met. And that was saying something considering the many A-list actors I had met through my dad.

But that's all. I didn't like him. There had to be something redeeming about him for me to like him, and frankly, I had yet to find any such redeeming qualities.

Other than how he was kind of protective over me, even if he always went a little overboard with it. I couldn't help but feel warmed by how he cared about my well-being, especially after years of no one really giving a damn about what happened to me. I was forced to notice that caring spark in Negan the morning he tried to talk me out of a bad spot, when all my brain was screaming out for was something to numb it, he found a way to distract me. And even if his methods were a little non-conventional — by flirting and trying to seduce me — it worked. My mind has been so wrapped up in him, that I haven't been given the chance to fall back into that trap again, and I think that was by his own design, forcing me to keep busy.

And he'd never expressed any judgement about my old addiction habits or violent temperament, which was weirdly refreshing, since I never felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him in fear of scaring him off.