Running From You I Negan x Maggie (ENGLISH VERSION)

Chapter 10: How would you love somebody like me?

"I know you try, you could never fix me

I know you wanna believe

I couldn't hurt somebody so sweet

But baby, won't you rot with me?

I wanna feel good when I'm makin' you scream

Don't wanna be dramatic, but I swear if you leave

I'll be broken"

Negan stood outside Maggie's house, the muffled sounds of the party echoing through the ajar door. Hershel's laughter stood out among the voices, and for a moment, Negan closed his eyes, allowing himself to imagine what it would be like if he were inside. He could almost hear Hershel's voice calling him, asking about a new chord or how to tune his latest gift. They would spend time together, laughing and testing the strings, maybe even playing something simple, just for the joy of seeing the boy improve every day.

He wanted to be there. He wanted to be with Hershel, with Maggie. More than anything, he wanted the kind of life that seemed completely out of reach. A family dinner, a casual conversation at the end of the day about normal things, sitting on the couch with Maggie and discussing the little trivialities of life, while Hershel ran around the room with the boundless energy of a child. And later, when the night came to an end, they would tuck the boy in, making sure he was safe and comfortable, before... Negan sighed deeply, feeling a tightness in his chest, a void that seemed unbearable.

He wanted that. A family. And he knew it was something he could never have. Not after everything he'd done. Not with Maggie.

Negan looked at the door again, seeing the shadows of people moving inside, the laughter and the sounds of presents being opened. When Hershel shouted with joy at opening the guitar, Negan's chest ached almost physically. He wanted so badly to be in there with him, to see the boy's happiness up close, to see the proud smile of his mother, to share that moment.

But that wasn't for him.

The man turned away from Maggie's porch, the night cold, with a chilling wind that signaled bad weather approaching. Negan shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he walked home.

— Negan! — The all-too-familiar voice of Maggie made him freeze in place. He turned to see the woman from his thoughts approaching.

Negan felt the weight of the light raindrops slowly falling on him, but the real storm was around him, in Maggie's voice, in the tension etched in her eyes. He had left the party quietly, trying to avoid another scene, but Maggie hadn't let it go. There she was, furious, ready to unload all her frustration and confusion. And he knew what was coming, he could predict every word that would come out of her mouth, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.

— What were you doing there? — Maggie began, her voice sharp, her eyes flashing with anger. She stopped a few steps from Negan, who kept his head down for a moment, feeling his stomach churn. — You knew you shouldn't have shown up, Negan. So why did you come? What do you really want with Hershel? With me?

What do I want with you? It was a question Negan would never dare answer, at least not out loud. He was torn between the desire for something he knew was impossible and the need to do the right thing, to be useful, to try, at least for Hershel, to be better than he had been for Maggie. But Maggie... Maggie didn't want to hear that. She wanted someone to blame, and he had always been the perfect scapegoat.