𝑨 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒚. (𝒏𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏)

{47} Déjà Vu

"you're my best friend, and I'll always love you for that"

•••

Sleeping on a preoccupied mind was proving harder than Brooklyn thought.

Thoughts of tomorrow night were to busy clouding her head space. After all, it was the day that the action began and preparations for Negan's unannounced departure were finally being put in place.

More so, Brooklyn was excited. Two days from now, she'd be able to leap in to her boyfriend's arms and ramble on about how much she missed his pain in the ass. It sounded cheesy, even she would admit that, but in the time they'd spent apart like this, she couldn't wait to see him. There was obviously that one piece of her that was anxious- for a number of reasons in fact. Like, what if he didn't want to see her? Or, what if he saw what she'd done as betrayal? Most importantly was, what if she got caught?

There were a number of things to consider, but Brooklyn was not going to let that stop her. She was going to try her all to get her man back, not bothering to consider the consequences.

So now, she lay across the bed, her eyes wide open and her lax breathing the only sound that could be heard. The room was engulfed by darkness, a serene breeze pouring itself in through the slightly unlatched window. Brooklyn groaned, she couldn't be feeling more awake than she did now.

Getting to sleep right now was hopeless. No matter how hard she tried, Brooklyn Scotts could not sleep. She guessed that it was a while after midnight, she'd been staring up at the bland ceiling for at least a few hours now, daydreaming about Negan's escape.

She flattened both palms against the mattress and comfortably propped herself up so that her back was leant on the two pillows behind her. Yawning, she then extended one arm, desperately trying to make out the corner of her bedside table with the ends of her bony fingers.

"Bingo," her hand clasped the corner of the blemished wood, giving her the guidance to carefully pull herself up and off the bed. Brooklyn shuffled delicately across the cold floorboards, trying so hard not to; a- fall flat on her face, and b- wake up the brothers due to falling flat on her face.

Her arms shakily loitered around the dark space that seemed to have surrounded her and swallowed her whole- she really needed a lamp or at least a torch. Brooklyn took another step towards the right, nearly toppling over her guitar that was placed beside her closet. She muttered a bunch of obscenities, lightly smacking her palm on what she had hoped to be the door.

Finally, her calloused hands brushed over something cold and metal, and she soon realised that it was the scratchy edge of the unhinged door handle. The girl beamed a productive grin and proudly pulled it open, her toes curling and nose twitching at the very obviously loud creak that came with it.

Brooklyn winced, hoping that it hadn't woken Hunter and Austin. By now, her beady eyes had adjusted as best they could to the darkness and she was able to navigate, just, towards the top of the steps. At a slow pace, she tumbled downstairs and from memory, found the light switch at the bottom to the right.

Blinding lamplight flooded the entirety of the bottom half of the house, nearly making Brooklyn's eyes water at the absurd shock to such brightness so quickly. Her bawled fists groggily rubbed her bloodshot orbs, dropping down to her sides once she'd done.

The funny thing was, Brooklyn would admit to feeling sleepy, but she couldn't grasp the fact as to why her body physically wouldn't allow her to rest. It was probably stress, which was something Brooklyn wouldn't accept and own up too. She wasn't sure if feeling so stressed and paranoid was part of her crazed hormones due to the pregnancy or not. But then again, she didn't know whether those symptoms were too early to be linked to that- plus she knew hardly anything about pregnancies in the first place.