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The walk to Negan's room was a short one. They stumbled together, his arm wrapped around her waist lazily as they squinted to make their way up the dark steps. There was nobody but the two lurking around the halls. It was completely desolate, everybody congregating in the common room or their own beds, heads down for the night. For a moment she wished that's where she was.
When they made it to the last step, she placed her hands on her knees and huffed.
"That was two fucking flights of stairs and you look like you're about to reel the hell over."
"Screw off, I've had enough PE teachers telling me how unfit I was before the apocalypse."
The outbreak had helped shape her up, but she couldn't fix her innate lack of athletic skill. He held his hands up in defense and urged her forward, making her flounder in the direction of his room. He hummed deeply behind her, and if he didn't stagger every few steps, she probably would have assumed he was sober.
"You remember which one's mine?" He asked.
The door to his ostentatious room appeared around the corner at the end of the corridor. She nodded. "It's hard to miss." It was. Victorian era double doors wasn't a common commodity in the apocalypse. Even the handle was shining in the dark hallway. Before she could open it Negan reached in front of her, his chest pressed against her back, and jiggled the knob until it pushed forward.
She moved inside, quickly making her way to the couch and plopping down on it. She didn't take any time to observe her surroundings, she'd been in there once before. She swung her feet up on his glass table, figuring if he didn't like it he would say something. He shrugged off his leather jacket with an uncomfortable grunt, strewing it messily across a rack, and staggered forward, falling onto the couch. He slung his arm over the back of it, tilted his head back, and shut his eyes. She stared at him intently, his soft lids and rough beard traveling down the curve of his jaw, coming to a fade near his Adam's apple. He looked vulnerable and dangerous all at the same time.
"Well?" She broke the silence after a few moments. He opened his lids and side-eyed her.
"Well?" He repeated.
"You brought me up here to show me something."
"Right." He wiped his hand down his drawn face. He seemed tentative, but she couldn't be sure.
She narrowed her eyes when he didn't get up after a few moments. "I swear to God Negan, if it's your dick-"
The smile that stretched across his face and the sonorous laugh that erupted from his throat was enough to tell her that it wasn't. He got up and dragged himself over to a drawer, pulling out an old tattered book. She froze when she saw it.
