Running From You I Negan x Maggie (ENGLISH VERSION)

Chapter 25: I'm meaner than my demon

"I sat alone in bed till the morning
I'm crying, they're coming for me
And I tried to hold these secrets inside me
My mind's like a deadly disease"

The timid sunlight filtered through the patched curtains of Maggie's room, but it wasn't enough to chase away the morning chill. When she opened her eyes, the emptiness on the bed beside her was the first thing she noticed. Hershel should have been there. He always was.

It wasn't alarming, but that familiar tightness in her chest started creeping in. Maggie sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor.
— Hershel? — she called, her voice raspy and weak, almost swallowed by the silence.

No response.

A wave of unease washed over her. It was irrational—she knew that. He could be anywhere: playing outside, chatting with Elijah, maybe even napping on the couch. But something about the house's atmosphere felt off, and it bothered her deeply.

— Hershel? — she called again, louder this time, as she left the room.

The hallway was empty, but the sensation of being watched was almost suffocating. Passing the closed doors, her eyes scanned every corner as if danger might jump out of the shadows. She descended the stairs, the wooden boards creaking under her feet, and the tension in her shoulders began to mount, almost aching.

Laughter echoed from the kitchen. Maggie froze, her heart racing and her hands trembling for no apparent reason. It was a familiar laugh, but it also grated on her nerves. Negan. And mingling with his was Hershel's soft voice. The tightness in her chest started to ease, but not enough to make her feel entirely at peace.

Maggie stepped into the kitchen with determined strides. Negan was leaning against the counter, an open can of beans beside him, and Hershel was strumming his guitar on his lap. The scene was so unexpected that she froze for a second, relief mixing with an irritation she couldn't quite explain.

Negan noticed her first. His eyes met hers, filled with something that resembled... concern? He straightened immediately, walking toward her as if trying to gauge what was wrong.

— You okay? — he asked, his voice low as his hand lightly touched her arm. The gesture was so unexpected that Maggie didn't flinch. She just stood there, trying to understand why his touch made her feel so... present.

— I... — she started, but the words died in her throat. She shook her head and averted her eyes. — Yeah. I'm fine.

Negan raised an eyebrow but didn't press. He knew there was more but seemed wise enough not to push. He stepped back, gesturing toward Hershel with a subtle smile.
— He just wanted to practice a bit. I figured it'd be a good idea. Didn't want to wake you up—you seemed wiped out yesterday.

Maggie crossed her arms, discomfort taking over. She hated herself for that moment of vulnerability.

— Hershel, put the guitar away. We're leaving soon. — Her voice came out harsher than she intended, but Hershel didn't seem to notice.

— Okay, Mom, — he replied, carefully setting the guitar aside.

Negan watched the boy but couldn't resist tossing a snide comment Maggie's way.

— You're a real ray of sunshine in the morning, aren't you?

Maggie rolled her eyes, ignoring the jab as Hershel left the kitchen. But Negan wasn't one to give up so easily. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her.

— You should eat something before we head out, — he said in a tone that was almost paternal but still laced with his usual sarcasm.

— No time, — she replied, turning to leave, feeling his gaze burning into her back.