Risk ➸ Simon

Chapter 4: Retinue

You sat in Negan's bedroom that evening. Glued to the edge of your chair, you burned a distasteful scowl into his gawking eyes. Sitting across from you, the leader of the Saviors put zero effort into making you feel safe around his presence. His witty grin expanded and his head cocked to the side while observing your body. "I. Am. So glad to have you here." he shifted and careened his back slightly toward your direction.

"You said you would explain things?"

"Surely you've heard bits and pieces of how ya got here, yes?" his eyes narrowed.

"Only a gist."

"Well. I'm the one who saved you. I am the man who dragged that nasty fucking corpse off of your body. If it wasn't for me, your ass would be dead right about now."

Negan spilled much greater details on how you were found and rescued. Tears lingering, you start to remember small portions of that day. It was a hazy memory, but you're able to recall your father's knife severing into the Walkers skull and it dropping to the ground. How your fathers' precious life escaped this earth when another living corpse tore into his neck. The blood gushing everywhere like a busted dam.

You were trapped in a daze, thinking back to your father's death. "Y/N!" Negan spat. You looked at him as tears subsided down your rosy cheeks. "I'm not done yet! We still need to determine your future." You tried cleaning yourself up; thinking what possible future you had left. "I'm almost certain you've met a reasonable number of my people, enough to answer this question," Negan smirked wildly. "Who are you?"

Before a single word departs your mouth, you backtrack to when you were with Simon and commemorated what he whispered in your ear. Fully understanding what he meant from earlier; you spoke with confidence. "I am Negan."

"Good girl." he spieled in a proud manner. "You are part of us now. You cannot leave nor is there an escape. Which is why I am giving you the option of either: 1-becoming a gorgeous addition to my wives or 2-becoming a worker on the factory floor."

A second passes of you considering your choices, which didn't take much longer till it altered clear. "I would never marry you!" you retort.

"Shucks! I was really hoping you'd go with option one, because if you weren't crippled at the moment, I'd love to fuck your brains out, hard, against that wall right now." Negan licked the bottom of his lip in a seductive way.

Your stomach knotted in response, just the image of you two having sexual intercourse made you want to vomit. You grew impatient with Negan, not taking his comment very lightly. It caused a pit of fury to boil from inside, wishing you could just scream at him. Though he did save your life after all and hasn't done any authentic harm yet.

Enduring the same sitting position in the chair, you mustered the craving of running away and to never look back. You didn't belong at The Sanctuary nor wanted to condone any actions it associates with. "When do I begin working?" you change the subject, conceiving a devious plan which would partake later.

"Ya'know, I like you. So much, in fact, that if you prove worthy enough in the next few weeks, I'll bump you up to resource runs."

"What is that?"

"You'll be paired with a group to collect recourses 'like food' from other communities that we overrule. Just don't do anything stupid, darling, and you should be alright." You break Negan's stare. "Within the next day, I'll have someone teach you everything ya need to know about the factory floor," he added. "I understand you've had a day from hell so far. Go back to your room and I'll get Simon to look after you."

***

With that, you rose from the cushioned chair and exited Negan's, not wanting to start an argument about obtaining a caretaker. You trailed off to your room where you came across a pile of fresh clean clothes on your bed. A note laid above the cloth which read: Sorry if these don't fit. Hopefully, they'll be good enough to last a while. —Laura.

You set the card to the side and held the clothes to your body. They seemed to fit by the looks of it, but before you actually tried them on, you decide to bathe. Near the right of your residence, there was a tiny bathroom with a single-shower. You hop in and let the running hot water trickle down your figure. After so many months, you finally have the chance to experience clean, warm, water.

Time goes by of scrubbing your hair and skin until the knobs shift off and you wrap a white towel around yourself. When leaving the restroom, you hear a knock at the entrance. Your heart skips a beat as you frantically scour the bed for the clothes and tell whoever it is to wait. Once you're dressed, you unlock the door and meet Simon, who carried a plate lavished with goodies. "Is this a bad time?" he asks, noticing your soaked hair.

"Oh, nope. Just got out." your cheeks flash a hint of red.

"May I come in?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Simon smirked when passing you and placed the tray on the side table. "How was that talk with Negan?"

"It was okay. I'll be working on the factory floor once I feel better."

"I'm a little surprised you ain't a new wife." he chuckled.

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?!" you raise your tone.

"Don't get your panties in a wad. I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what?"

"Nothing. Here, we have some ice cream." the second-in-command changed subjects, handing you a small bowl and spoon from the tray.

"Ice cream?" you question, not really caring about what was last mentioned.

You curled in bed while Simon rested in a chair beside you. The two of you shared conversations and ate ice cream throughout the night until you both passed out. Simon migrated to the couch as you remained in bed. You were still inconclusive about him—he did express good qualities about his well being every-now-and-then, but still felt divided. Mixed feelings of friend and foe lingered in your head about Simon; skeptical of his demeanor.