Irresistible Danger

Variety is the Spice of Life

           

You woke up on your own, before your alarm, the next morning. Eyes squinted over at the side table, where your watch sat, the digital letters telling you that it was a little after 6:30am. In fact, you could easily get ready and make it down to the kitchens for breakfast, rather than lay in bed all morning and be forced to eat a granola bar alone.

Mind made up, you swung your legs off the edge of the bed and stretched stiff arms over your head with a groan.  Walking over to the crate that held your clothes, you pulled out clean underwear and a grey t-shirt. You also grabbed the jeans that Negan had returned to you, which had been freshly washed and showed no signs of your fall out in the woods.

Pulling on socks and sneakers, and twisting your hair up into its signature bun, you grabbed the watch off the nightstand and buckled it around your wrist while walking out the door. You passed by a few compound members, some rubbing sleepy eyes in an effort to wake up, while others hurried towards the locker rooms with towels and bars of soap, so that they could shower before heading off to work.

In the past, it had been rare for you to get up this early on your own, so you usually missed the hustle and bustle of breakfast and people getting ready for jobs that required them to be at their posts bright and early. However, you hadn't been able to sleep as well last night, and you were willing to admit that it was because of the supply run.

Every time Negan left for a run, you became more and more nervous. Instead of relief at the absence of your gruff leader, like a lot of compound members probably felt, you were on edge and trying not to think of every possible way in which the run could go south, and put Negan in danger. You didn't know much about Hilltop, or the Gregory individual that Negan had mentioned last night, and lack of information caused your brain to swirl with all the worst-case scenarios.

Trying to clear your mind from visions of Negan getting shot or bit or taken hostage, you made your way down the stairwell towards the first floor. Entering the first floor hallway, you saw various people moving to and fro, most of them heading in the same direction that you were, towards the cafeteria. When you walked past the tables of diners and pushed open the door to the kitchen, you saw Ben scooping oatmeal into bowls, while two servers hurried back and forth with trays. Holding the door open for an approaching server, so that they could exit into the cafeteria, you received a hasty greeting, in passing, before they started handing out bowls to a nearby table.

Ben was so preoccupied that he didn't even notice your arrival, until you walked over to where he was standing and plucked one of the ready-to-go bowls of oatmeal off the tray. He stopped mid-scoop to turn and look over in surprise, before giving a smile and exclaiming, "Hiya, boss! What brings you down here this early?"

Grabbing a spoon out of a nearby drawer, you cocked a hip against the counter and gave a shrug. "I woke up early, and figured I might as well come down here and join the land of the living for breakfast."

Ben nodded at that, before going back to scooping the breakfast into bowls. Chewing on a spoonful of oatmeal, you wondered what time Negan and his men had left the Sanctuary. Even with how early it was, you knew that they had already left and, chances were, they had beat the sun in getting up this morning.

After finishing the bowl of oatmeal, you grabbed a tray that Ben had just finished filling with bowls, and took it out to the cafeteria. You doubted the servers would mind you helping them out, since it would make breakfast a little less hectic for them. Plus, you wanted to keep busy, keep your brain occupied, while Negan was gone. The more idle time you possessed, the more you would worry about him. God, actually caring about him is so stressful. What happened to the days when I didn't give a fuck how the runs went?