Running From You I Negan x Maggie (ENGLISH VERSION)

Chapter 11: My body is a cage

"My body is a cage
We take what we're given
Just because you've forgotten
That don't mean you're forgiven"

Maggie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were still red and swollen, her skin bearing traces of recent tears. Her face, marked and damp, was more than just tired; it was a mirror of something she didn't want to confront. Every time she blinked, she felt the echo of that kiss coming back—a vivid, cruel memory, full of a desire she'd rather deny.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, to calm herself. But the memory was relentless, dragging her back to the feel of Negan's hands on her skin, the urgency, the taste of challenge on his lips. The struggle turned to surrender, the thin line between anger and desire—this emotional chaos that still burned inside her. She took a deep breath, the cold bathroom air filling her chest, as if she could cool the storm raging within.

The kiss replayed in her mind with cruel intensity, a sequence of memories she couldn't control. She felt the heat of his hands and a suppressed fury, something she only understood when she felt his mouth—desperate and rough—against hers, bitter and intense, like he wanted to pull something out of her—or break something inside her.

Out of instinct, Maggie resisted, pushing him back and trying to put space between them. But he didn't stop. His lips kept pressing against hers, almost as a challenge, a demand, until her body gave in. Against her will, she realized she was kissing him back, tasting him and feeling the cold rain running down between them.

The fight turned into a bitter surrender. She felt her hands pulling him with the same urgency, as if she was waging her own battle between rage and a desire she would never admit. Her hands, trembling, grabbed the soaked fabric of Negan's shirt, pulling him closer, as if she wanted to feel both the pain and the heat. She didn't know what she wanted to prove—maybe that he had no power over her, or maybe the opposite.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, he stopped. Negan broke the kiss, their faces still close, their breaths mingling in the heavy air of the room, and for a moment, she saw the quiet arrogance in his smile, a bitter satisfaction, like someone who had won a battle. He seemed to know exactly what she was feeling, what she would never admit.

"See? I knew... I knew you wanted me." His voice still echoed in her mind, that arrogance making her anger and desire blend even more.

Maggie gripped the edge of the sink, her face still damp with tears and her breath unsteady. Her chest felt tight, a fury simmering beneath her skin. The memories of Negan, his touch—a recurring nightmare she couldn't shake.

In the middle of her confusion, like an unexpected light, came the memory of Glenn. She blinked, and suddenly, it was like he was right there, beside her, with that calm, reassuring smile. With Glenn, the world always seemed to make sense; worries faded, and fear had no place. Closing her eyes, the memory of his touch was gentle, careful, and his kiss, full of love, warmed her in a way that made her feel whole, connected to something greater than any fear.

Every kiss with Glenn was like a silent promise that everything would be okay. He had a way of holding her face with a tenderness only he had, his thumbs lightly caressing her cheeks, the warmth of his hands bringing a peace she'd never found in anyone else. His lips were firm but soft, always waiting, respecting, making her feel safe and protected.

But now... now she felt devastated. Negan's touch was the opposite of all that. With him, the kiss was a battle, a clash of wills that left a bitter taste and a suffocating weight in her chest. Maggie felt as if she had betrayed every precious memory of Glenn, every promise of eternal love she'd made to her husband. It was like Negan's presence in her life was a poison, corrupting every memory she still held of the man she had lost.