burning bridges /negan.

VII.

VII.
- dark times : the weeknd & ed sheeran -
"it ain't his fault, it's the life i chose"

breakfast at the sanctuary isn't glamorous; porridge oats, an apple from the trees out back, and a glass of water. i've only had one mug of tea since my arrival.
of course, negan and his higher ups receive better treatment. i've seen leftovers on trays in their rooms. assortments of fruit, jugs of coffee, and freshly made buttered bread.
if i were only in negan's good books, maybe i'd get the breakfast of kings too. i'd do anything for a damn fresh strawberry.

breakfast at the sanctuary is also lonely. i haven't made any 'friends' as of yet. teenage girls are rarely found in the canteen, and although i've tried, the older saviours lack the desire to converse with me.
the little conversation i am gifted comes from negan. he's becoming less frightening to me now, less of a mystery. although, i'd never go as far as claiming to know the man beneath lucille.

i finish my bowl of gruel and slam my spoon down beside it. i have a busy day ahead. i'm to clean simon's room first, then dwight's (this will be my first time meeting the infamous 'dwighty boy') and finally, i've been requested to meet negan in the courtyard at five.

i find myself praying that five comes quickly.

-

"so kid, what's the deal with you an negan?" simon queries whilst packing a bag. i come to the conclusion that he must be going on a supplies run later.

"what deal?" i shoot the question back.

"the deal. he don't just let anyone in that room you know?"

i take in what simon says. i'd love for there to be a 'deal'. negan is a handsome man. i've come to find myself more and more attracted to him.

"i clean his room. that's it. why, has he said anything?" i question.

"no." he cuts my wandering mind off.

"oh. okay."

i shuffle my feet. cringing at the silence as i dust simon's shelves.

"uh, so anyway. what do you like doin? i mean, apart from your job. what was fun before all this for you?"

i think for a moment.

i loved watching films, i ran track, i wrote songs, i had dogs. i had a brother.

"i rode my bike." an easy answer. what i would do for a bike in this new world. the feeling of wind lapping against my face and the moment of fear as i let go of both handles and put my trust in the wheels beneath me. those things i miss. so much.

"cute." he fiddles around with a zip on his bag. "my anna always loved her bike."

"i'm sorry."

"don't be."

-

simon lets me off shortly after that. i touched a nerve with him obviously. everyone had a life before this one, and everyone misses it. i know i long for mine.

i vow to keep my mouth shut whilst attending to dwight's room. the last thing i want to do is upset anyone else today.

i enter the small room with my head hanging low. avoiding eye contact will make it easier to get the jobs done and leave quicker and without awkward confrontation.
my plan is instantly shut down as dwight welcomes me into his space, asking me how my day is going.

"yeah, good thank you. and you?"

"fine thank you. listen: billie, you need to stay away from negan."

i'm taken aback by the sudden change in subject from dwight. what does he mean?

"sorry, i realise that was a shock but i've been waiting to warn you." he says, with just as serious an expression as before.

"and why's this?" i question.

"he's a bad man billie,"

i stare it him in pure confusion, i know this about negan, but from what i've seen he only takes on that persona when he needs to appear dangerous.

"please steer clear of him. i can't tell you much more, you have to trust me."

"i don't know if i do." i state before exiting the room. i'll clean it when he's on the run tonight.