control . negan

04; king

Winona's lips parted as she locked eyes with the lanky man. She figured if she had any chances of getting out, she would have to run it through the leader first. Tentatively crossing the threshold, she gently shut the door behind her and sucked in sharply, joining the blonde man on the walk through the damp, narrow corridors.

"Dwight, right?" She shifted her gaze to the burnt side of his face. It was a clean line down the center, one half smooth and the other rigid with ugly sores and scars. She wondered if it still hurt.

He sent a fleeting gaze. "Right." Winona swung her arms limp by her side, swallowing the painful lump in her throat. As she wiped at the damp parts of her cheeks, she wondered if he could tell she had been crying. She'd gotten rather talented at hiding it from her grandmother and Rick, the two who thought they could see right through her whenever they pleased. Sniffing lightly, she turned back to the uninterested man and perked up.

"Sorry about earlier." She hung her head and slid on her toes, trudging through the dirt and minuscule puddles of grimy water. Dwight tilted his head but only gave a slight taken aback look.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about." He tilted his chin and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his dirtied jeans.

"Yeah. I got that. He got the message across pretty clear." Winona creased her eyebrows, twisting the heels of her feet against the rough cement as they ambled along.

Dwight stifled a humorless laughter. "Probably woulda gotten away with it if it wasn't us."

Winona raised her brows and inhaled sharply. "Luck hasn't been on my side lately, to say the least."

Dwight nodded, twisting his jaw and keeping his eyes ahead. The hall was long and it seemed like forever until the two got to the end, standing still in front of a pair of large double doors with an ornate knob design. Winona cocked a brow and stared the over the top entrance down, almost missing what Dwight said next.

"You're strange." He shook his head, letting out a scoff from his nose in disbelief. Winona's eyes shot over him, arms crossed over her emaciated ribs.

"Why?" She asked, tone unintentionally delicate and soft.

"You're apologizing. Never come across a fuckin' thief in my life that apologizes. Especially to the one who got her caught." He puffed from his puckered lips and swiveled on his heel, facing the girl. Her tattered shoe tapped almost nervously against the cold floors in an arrhythmic manner.

"I was desperate. Still am. And I've never had rancor before. Life is too short." She clicked her tongue over the roof of her mouth and fleetingly raised a brow. "This is Negan's room, right? Unless you've got another obnoxious leader living in your premises that I'm unaware of."

Dwight's lips twitched upward. "Careful sweetheart, walls are thin here. Good luck." He spun on his heel and turned a sharp corner, leaving the feeble and shaken girl to fend for herself.

Twisting her jaw and shuffling on her feet, she warily raised a knuckle to the door and knocked. Rubbing her clammy hands together, she let out a nervous breath of air and shifted her gaze to the ground. Soon, the door opened up and there he stood: the man with the bat, a slick haircut and a wicked, unmistakable grin. She poked her lips out and rocked on the balls of her feet.

"C'mon in." Winona took no hesitation in crossing over to his room and shutting the door behind her. At sight of what was before she parted her lips, gawking at the complexity and sheer beauty of it all. With a black and white theme, leather couches and a king sized bed, it was far better than anything she would have rested in pre-apocalypse. She bit at her knuckle nervously and peered around the area, relishing in the elegance of it all.