Running From You I Negan x Maggie (ENGLISH VERSION)

Chapter 18: Crawling Back to You 🚫+16

"So, do you have the guts?
I've been wondering if your heart's still open,
And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts."

Negan felt Maggie shift beside him in bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Morning had arrived—he could tell from the light streaming faintly through the window's cracks—but the overcast sky gave the room a muted, cozy gray hue.

With his eyes still heavy with sleep, Negan reached out and wrapped an arm around Maggie's waist, pulling her closer. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent that seemed to linger permanently on her skin. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to etch the memory in his mind—the texture of her hair, the warmth of her body against his, the sense that the world could crumble away and he wouldn't care, as long as he had this.

"Don't even think about leaving this bed, Rhee," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, the gravelly tone vibrating between them.

Maggie exhaled softly but didn't pull away. She stayed there for a moment, granting herself that brief slice of heaven before reality beckoned. Negan felt the familiar ache in his chest, a yearning for a life like this with her. He knew he didn't deserve it, but God, how he wanted it. Wanted to wake up every day like this—with Maggie nestled in his arms, her scent filling every corner of the room, her tousled hair sprawling across the pillow beside his.

Finally, Maggie broke the silence, her voice gentle but resolute, reflecting the feelings he stirred in her.
"Negan, we've got things to do," she said, moving slightly but not fully pulling away.

He lifted his head, his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a lazy, mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"The world's still standing, isn't it?" He settled back, pulling her closer and nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck. "So it doesn't need saving before eight a.m."

Maggie tried to stifle a smile but failed. There was something so disarming about the way Negan could be so carefree in moments like this, as if the weight of the world couldn't touch them as long as they were together.

"Besides," she said softly, ignoring his plea and lightly brushing her fingers against his arm, "we need to talk."

Negan groaned, a flicker of frustration surfacing as he reluctantly released her. He flopped back onto the pillow, draping an arm over his eyes as though trying to block out not just the light but the inevitable.

"Please, don't ruin a perfect morning before coffee," he said, half-joking, half-serious.

Maggie raised an eyebrow, her tone firm but not harsh. "Negan..."

He sighed, lowering his arm and turning his head to face her.
"Alright, alright." Now, his full attention was on her.

Both still lay under the blanket, bare and vulnerable, but the bubble they had created overnight still enveloped them—a fragile shield against the outside world. Negan turned on his side, propping his head up on one hand to steady himself as he watched her. Maggie mirrored his position, their faces mere inches apart, their eyes holding a mix of unspoken emotions. Their legs remained intertwined, as if neither wanted to fully leave the sanctuary they had built.

Negan held her gaze, a soft, lazy smile tugging at his lips as he traced a finger absentmindedly along her arm.
"So, what's on your mind?" he asked, attempting to keep his tone light, though something inside him tightened. "Having second thoughts already?"

The question came out more serious than he intended. Deep down, he desperately hoped the answer was no.

"No," Maggie replied without hesitation. "I don't regret it."