I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

Gotcha

Negan looked shell-shocked at the words that spilled from Blake's mouth, his bearded jaw clenched together tensely and his already brown eyes becoming black.

"What?" Negan managed to breathe out in a low, deadly, growl of a voice.

This couldn't be fucking happening.

Every fucking moment they had spent together....her coming her to the Sanctuary....their time spent taunting each other...flirting...having fun...sharing showers...having dinner....

....even last just a few hours ago when they had been back on that bed together....

...all of that couldn't be gone. It just fucking couldn't.

This kind of thing didn't happen in real life. This was he kind of shit- trope you usually came across on crappy daytime tv. But this wasn't something that happened here....

The dark-haired Saviour stared down at Blake now, his orbs locking onto those familiar green eyes of hers.

Those eyes he knew so well.

This couldn't be happening. It really fucking couldn't.

"D-David..." she muttered again, answering his question with wide eyes, shaking her head. "My fiancé...."

Fuck.

Just fuck.

Blake tilted her head, shifting under the white sheet before her slightly.

"Yeah....m-my fiancé," she said again, biting on her lip for a small moment, her eyes never leaving Negan's. "...y'know....the asshole who pushed me down a set of stairs and tortured me for months on end....?"

A frown darkened Negan's face slowly, as he gazed back at her...wholly confused right now...

But as he glared, he noticed Blake's expression change from one of seriousness....to now, see a small smirk dance easily across her lips....

There was a lengthy pause...Negan holding his breath, not knowing what the fuck was going on.

Before eventually, after what felt like an age...Blake's mouth curved up into a knowing grin.

"Gotcha," she suddenly uttered, raising her eyebrows fiendishly and poking her tongue out through her line of white teeth.

But Negan, his chocolate eyes twitching back and forth searching her face, didn't move or speak or fact react at all. And despite how quick the bearded Saviour usually was, he was still utterly bewildered right at this very moment.

And he was barely any more enlightened, even when Blake gave an enormous sigh and nodded encouragingly.

"I was fucking with you, Negan," she murmured goadingly, her face bright and her eyes twinkling wickedly. "And you should see your face right now..."

She gave a laugh, the noise lighting up the room, and causing both Simon, still stood silently in the doorway, and Carson, stood just a little way over Negan's shoulder, to both glance back and forth between each other, a little lost for words. Mimicking, of course, how Negan felt right at this moment.

But Blake, shifting once again on the bed and positioning herself more comfortably against the pillows behind her, sighed softly, amused, as the last of her laugh dissipated.

But Negan felt a tick working its way against his stubbly jaw right now, his eyes cross and challenging as he stared down at her.

He shook his long, tanned head in disbelief.