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

The Argument

Blake marched up the stairs, first clenched blood, boiling inside her veins...

She was furious now.

So mad that Negan would have the gall to be watching her from a window...checking up on her like she was some sort of kid.

Well she had had enough now...so done with Negan's games.

Even as accustomed to the winding hallways as Blake had become, it still took her a few minutes to get her bearings and work out exactly where Negan had been watching her from.

But it was less than five minutes before Blake found herself up on the fourth floor on the West side of the large looming factory, climbing up the last few steps that led onto a long corridor Blake had never been down before.

It was gloomy and dingy up on this floor, with no windows and just a flickering sterile light from the lamps hanging above her head. But down the far end of the hallway, Blake could see a tell-tale shaft of bright sunlight shining out of an open door.

She gritted her teeth together....strands of her loosely tied up hair hanging down past her face now...but she didn't care what she looked like, her cheek still smeared with dirt and her knees grubby from the garden.

And with fists clenched at her sides, it only took the caramel-haired woman a second or two to reach said-room, bursting in through the door, before anyone could do a anything to stop her.

Blake's heart was pounding in her chest now...as her stomach did backflips...

And it wasn't a moment before her eyes fell on a familiar figure slouched down in a chair in front of the window, his boots propped up on the scrubbed wooden desk in front of him.

Negan.

Looking as arrogant now as he had been the day she had first met him. But there was no hint of a cocky smile upon his features today...

Instead he merely stared up at her now, his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes black.

He had obviously been expecting her.

But regardless, Blake wasn't going to let him get the first word in, anger bubbling inside of her.

"What the fuck is your problem?" she said in a sudden raised voice, pointing at him, a frown plastering itself across her brow, as she came to stop just a foot or two from the desk, eyeing him darkly. "You're spying on me now? Really?!"

But Negan merely wrinkled his nose, giving her an incredulously scornful look in return.

"Jeez, darling, you conceited much?" he scoffed. " I was merely fuckin' checkin' on how much work you lot were getting' on with down in that fuckin' garden of yours....or had I interrupted something' important between you and pretty-boy down there? That why you've come up here screaming the fuckin' odds?"

Blake gave a growl at his words, lowering her chin furiously. He was trying to get a rise out of her, she could tell. But it was indeed working...

"What the fuck are you talking about, Negan?" she yelled, lifting her hands aloft in sheer exasperation. "Are you jealous? Is that it?"

Negan grimaced up at her now, scowling.

Luckily for Blake, Lucille today was nowhere to be seen, but he still had a knife visible at his belt, peeking over the top of his grey jeans and black t-shirt and under his leather jacket.

"Jealous?" he snarled, raising an eyebrow. "Of that stupid fuckin' son of a bitch? Give me a fucking break, Sweetheart.."

But Blake took a step forwards.