Irresistible Danger

Be Honest With Me

You marched to Negan's room, your mind racing and so focused on the questions swirling around in it, that you hardly even remembered going up the stairs and walking down the hall. In fact, it almost seemed as if you had just suddenly appeared in front of his door, and before you knew it, your hand was raising to knock on the solid wood. After hearing his muffled, 'come in,' you turned the knob and opened the door, stepping inside.

He was sitting at his desk, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and papers spread out all across the gleaming surface of the desk, most likely full of inventory lists and numbers from the recent run. He glanced up sternly, for just a moment, before refocusing on the papers in front of him. He had obviously been expecting someone else, because his eyes widened in surprise and jerked back up to latch onto your own, before his lips stretched into a genuine smile of greeting. You couldn't help but smile back, a warm, fuzzy feeling starting up in your chest that only added to the confusing plethora of feelings bouncing around inside you.

Hesitantly closing the door, you stepped further into the room. Negan pulled the glasses off and set them on the desk, before pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. The chair squeaked across the floor, as he pushed it back with his legs and stood up.

He wasn't wearing his gloves or scarf, and the leather jacket was draped across the back of the chair, leaving his upper body clad in only a grey t-shirt. It took a great deal of willpower not to openly stare at the way the shirt clung to his torso and arms, a teasing reminder of all the tan flesh and tattooed muscles you now knew were hiding under there, thanks to the front row show you had gotten in his room, the other day. Instead, you let your eyes drift for just a moment, before locking them back up on his face. You could think about his body, later. Right now, you needed to know what was going on in his mind.

His gaze flickered down to the book in your hands, and his grin widened, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at you expectantly, eyes twinkling in amusement. He knew how excited you'd be about the book, how you had never expected to own a copy of it, again. The knot in your chest tightened, and you weren't sure if you wanted to laugh, cry, or curse him for being so incredibly thoughtful.

The realization hit that neither one of you had said a word to the other, since you walked in the door. And, despite Negan's usual love of hearing his own voice, the two of you had been communicating strictly with nonverbals...and had understood each other, perfectly.

All of a sudden, you felt shy and uncertain, almost out of your depth, being here. Flustered by the clusterfuck of thoughts racing through your head, you held up the book, and asked, "Where the heck did you find a copy of this?"

His grin stayed in place, as he strolled slowly around the side of the desk, before leaning back against the front of it, a few feet away from you. "Turns out Gregory has a pretty extensive library. I was perusing the shelves while he stammered around, trying to kiss my ass, when they caught my eye."

"They?" Your eyes widened in excitement, all other important questions being temporarily pushed to the side, as you hopefully asked, "Did he have the entire series?"

Negan ran his tongue across his lower lip, then tucked it into his cheek and showcased his pearly whites. "Maybe," he teased. "Let's say he did have them all...what would you be willing to wager for them?"

You felt the first embers of desire start to burn in your stomach, at his words. This was not the path you had wanted the conversation to go, but damn, it was tempting to just ease into flirty banter with him and forget all the questions you had been bottling up. No, this is what always happens. You get distracted by his charm, and don't get any of the answers you're hoping for, your brain chimed in, tapping its foot impatiently.