control . negan

08; safe

"That wasn't exactly the hi I was expecting, but I'll take it." His eyes dropped down her body and trailed back to her eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She wasn't sorry, but she wanted the conversation to go by as quickly as possible.

The men Negan stood chatting with drifted to the side and sparked a conversation of their own. She rubbed her forehead, feeling dizzy and tired, but wanting nothing more than to tag along on this night run.

"Now where are you off to in such a hurry?" He asked, stroking his graying beard.

"The night run. Noah told me there was one tonight." She crossed her arms and squinted at the front entrance. She wondered if Negan would stop her if she walked away.

"Who the fuck is Noah?"

"Your worker?" She raised a brow. "You don't know your workers?"

"Only the ones that matter, sweetheart." He twitched the corner of his shaggy lip. She scoffed and shook her head, bumping his shoulder with her own.

"Screw you, I'm going to shower."

"Well don't let me stop you." He stepped to the side and lowered his gaze down her body.

"Wasn't going to," she called over her shoulder.

The shower was steaming hot. She made it quick and was dried off, clothed, and ready to go with five minutes to spare. Her outfit consisted of her jean jacket, a tank top, and some spandex that ended just below the knee. She never left the house without her denim jacket; it was her mother's before she passed away. The right side pocket had Caverly printed in a small font. It came in handy because it was harder material for walkers to bite through if one happened to sneak up from behind.

The gates were crowded with young and middle aged men, along with a few women. She hurried over to Noah, hands stuffed in pockets, keeping a cool look on her face. Noah linked his fingers in the chain and nodded when he saw her.

"Ready?" He asked.

"I think so. I'm not sure how you guys organize your runs." She fiddled her fingers and darted her eyes around the premises. Men were stacking duffle bags in the back of a pickup truck and arming themselves with various weapons. Handguns, blades, she even saw one man shove an explosive in his truck. Nothing was as crazy, however, as the barbed wire bat Negan wielded as he sauntered into the crowd.

"It's simple, really," Noah started, but Winona was only half listening. "We get whatever we can find for a few hours and store them in the duffle bags, those ones there. We're supposed to stay in groups, Negan doesn't really care but they should be small because he doesn't want anybody getting lost or hurt, and he wants to branch out as much as possible. At ten we'll choose a place to sleep for the night, a lot of the times it's our cars because we can't find somewhere secure enough, and we'll wake up at six AM to head home. Sometimes we do a little more scavenging in the mornings but that's only if we find somewhere with enough things. Kind of a rarity nowadays."

"Sounds like a blast." She raised her eyebrows and swept a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, it's real fun."

The air seemed to be getting hotter, so she wrapped the jean jacket around her waist and secured it tight.

Noah lowered his brows and squinted. "Negan doesn't usually come on night runs. He has once or twice but that was a long time ago."

Winona shuffled uncomfortably and pulled her hair into a ponytail. "That's strange."

"Well, he does what he wants."