40; lucille

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I WANT IT TO ALL GO AWAY

❝ I WANT IT TO ALL GO AWAY ❞

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Through the slight tint of the dust covered window Vada watched the mellow sunset fill the sky with pink hues. She leaned back in the leather car seat, kicked her feet up and squinted her eyes. Negan had been silent the whole way and tacitly let Vada play the music he hated so much. It was mostly pop music from the eighties which she wasn't too keen on either, but she preferred it over the silence and dreadful buzzing of the truck.

She thanked him silently for heated seats. For the first ten minutes she'd pulled her sweater tightly over her in attempts to keep warm, but near the end of the ride she'd had it thrown in the back seat and was relishing in the warmth emanating from the vehicle itself. The mirror was layered with dust from Negan's rough turns on the dirt roads.

She'd figured they were headed to Alexandria, possible for another family visit, but he made one arbitrary sharp turn that made Vada pick her head up from the seat. She furrowed her brow and glanced back and forth. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he mumbled, turning down the warmth. It was getting overly humid and she was actually starting to sweat. Negan made another sharp turn that sent Vada flying back in her seat, causing her to roughly hit the weather. Groaning, she picked herself up and scowled.

"Your driving is still substandard," she complained, rubbing up and down her arm. He shot her a quick look and gave a lopsided grin. Just as she got comfortable, he jerked the wheel and sent the right side of her body flying into the car door. Shocked, she picked herself back up and whacked his arm. "You asshole."

"Can't help it." He licked his lip and made a smoother turn. Vada rolled her eyes and kicked open the compartment by her knees that held a myriad of CDs from the eighties. There were the odd few from the seventies and sixties, but nothing after that. She pinched her brows while rummaging through the collection but couldn't find much that she liked.

"Poor music taste," she muttered. "No offense."

"None taken. They're not mine."

Vada lifted her head with a confused look and pulled out a Phil Collins CD. "If they're not yours, whose are they?"

"Lucille's."

She gripped the CD tighter in her hand and parted her lips. Suddenly her palms were clammy and she was rummaging through the stack again. "Oh, I mean they're not all bad. There's some Bowie and Queen and I like-"

"I know she had crappy music taste. I hated listening to most of the shit she had in there, but she'd sing along and seemed happy enough, so I went along with it. Kind of a small price to pay."

She tilted her head up and gave him a half smile. "You must have been a good husband."

"I wouldn't say that." He leaned back uncomfortably in his seat and sped up the car a bit. Vada pulled her brows together but decided not to dig any deeper, cause it all seemed like too much of a sensitive topic. She slipped the CD in its slot and waited for the first song to start playing. It was a scratchy, low quality Against All Odds and she recognized it the moment it rang through the truck.

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