𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -Negan x Reader

•9•

You wring your hands as you follow Negan down the hall to his room, the sun beginning to set. You can only imagine how bad this is going to be. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours and you've already caused so much shit for him. You know you're showing that you're more trouble than you're worth. You didn't mean for any of this to happen, but that still doesn't make it go away or excuse it.

These have been the longest three days of your life, today especially. The both of you make it to the room and he opens the door just as he did the last time. You slide past him in the narrow frame, eyes scanning the dimly lit room. Your bag is still at the couch where you left it before you decided to go day drinking. Hearing the door close, you don't hesitate to start rambling.

"Look, I can't apologize enough. I am so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I don't know what I was thinking.", you rattle off, running a hand through your hair.

He hasn't made two steps into the room yet. You feel your heart sink as you try to plead your case. He's got that look on his face that makes you even more nervous.

"So let me get this straight, three men tried to kill you and you're sorry?", a grin pulls at his lips.

This takes you aback. You wonder why he's not mad at you. You set this all into motion.

"I mean I drank your alcohol and left and put one of your men in harm's way. This would've never happened had I not been stupid.", you explain, almost wanting him to get mad so your assumptions can be validated.

He smirks as he walks past you, placing Lucille on top of the paper-riddled desk and sitting into the chair with a sigh. Your face contorts with confusion as you watch him pull the half-empty bottle of liquor out of the cabinet and set it in front of him. He motions for you to sit down in the chair across from him. You do so but slowly, completely out of your realm.

So I steal from him, snoop through his things, cause a man to get killed, and he's this calm?

"I'm sorry, aren't you like.. mad?", you question as he pulls out two glasses from the desk and fills each of them halfway.

His dark eyes flick up to you, causing you to almost audibly gulp.

"Do you want me to be mad?", he asks, sliding one of the glasses over to you, eyes never leaving yours.

You shake your head. Your eyes trail to the glass, more confused than you were to begin with. He sighs and leans back in the chair, kicking his boots up on the desk.

"Look, they were going to try something eventually. They made this easy on me. Now, no one is going to look at you the wrong way without remembering what the consequences are.", he explains, then taking a sip of the liquor.

Your brain is too scrambled to even form a coherent thought, let alone get drunk. You still haven't figured out why he cares so much, already knowing what he will say if you ask again, you stay quiet.

"Now, onto the brass tacks. You might wanna consider drinking a bit of that.", he grins, pointing to your drink, still untouched, in front of you.

"You seemed to have noticed the scorned-woman look Sherry was giving you earlier.", he hints.

"I told you, your wives won't like me being here. I think I already have enough people coming for my neck.", you tell him matter-of-factly.

Taking the glass into your hand, you begin to sip the stout, amber substance. You thought you needed a drink earlier but you really need one now. The liquid burns your throat all the way down, sending a tingling sensation through your body. Drinking again probably isn't a good idea but you can't help it. Especially when someone is shoving it in your face. You set the glass back down and find him watching you, waiting to drop the bomb.