Chapter 48

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When they came back into the Sanctuary, there was a crowd of people worrying over Negan, started yelling at him what happened to them, hearing gunshots over the city but Negan just said this to them and it made them shut up. "I am guessing that a lot of you fine folks thought I was dead, chewed up, never be crapped out again. Well, here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have Ellie and my nut sack is made of steel. So back to work." He soon also let Mal go back to her room and clean up.

She got rid of her bloody clothes in the laundry, took a long shower just to calm her stifling bruises and sores on her body. After getting a new pair of jeans, a long tight black shirt, Mal caught sight of her face in the mirror for the first time since the fight and sucked in a harsh breath. Bruises bloomed along the line of her jaw. Even darker bruises formed a purple circle around her stomach, and she brushed a finger across them. There was an array of cuts across her face- on her cheeks, her forehead, one under her eye. Her lower lip was still split and swollen, thought it didn't hurt much when she prodded it with her tongue. Then there was a knock on her door and she opens to greet a less bruised Negan, wearing a white T-shirt, his hair slicked back wet from his shower. She notices a few tattoos on both arms, and wonders if he has more.

"You alright?" Negan asked, turning to her. He looks her face over, eyes haggard with worry. "Your pretty face is beat to hell. Sorry if I fucking hurt you that bad. God, seeing you like this makes me a fuckin' dick."

"I'm okay. Had worse," Mal breathed, chest tight. Negan's words were so fiercely sincere, it was nearly startling. "Just... didn't realize how bad I looked."

Frown lines cut deep into Negan's face. "You don't look bad."

Mal snorted. "I look like hell, you said it yourself," she teased, padding out of the door and taking a seat on the edge of the bed, watching as Negan followed her. He sank down on the bed beside Mal, being cautious if he was being too personal in her space. "I said you're beat to hell. Never said you look like hell. In fact, I think I may have said something about your face being pretty."

Mal snorted and pulled away, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

Negan pulled her back, one hand curled around the curve of her shoulder, a gesture both tentative and insistent all at once. She didn't even flinch away. "I fucking mean it, Mal. You're beautiful. Takes more than a couple cuts to fuck that up."

She couldn't help feel calm around him; he's nice to her, very cautious if he makes the wrong move. "I'm sorry I was rash. I just thought of dark things and thought to trust my guts and... I shouldn't of. Sometimes my guts lie to me."

"That's alright. You were cautious and scared. Don't say any more." He reaches a hand out and Mal froze what he wanted, then took his hand and they shake it. "Fresh new start, fresh new day. See you around, Mal."

He walks to the door and unexpectedly Sheree and Tucker come in, snickering over Mal.

"Watcha do?" asked Tucker, his eyes ablaze.

Mal rolled her eyes. "I fought Negan."

Sheree chuckled. "You went against a man who never loses a fight, and you went mano to mano with him and survived."

"Went in whut?" Asked Tucker.

"It means 'man to man'," Sheree said.

"It means 'hand to hand'," Mal fixed her. Even though Sheree was wrong, but she didn't say so. Not when she's nice to her. "I just thought he would-"

"Kill ya?" Tucker snorted. "Please. You told the truth and a girl like you should not be punished or killed. You're too cute."

"It's nothing. I've learned my lesson." She touches one of her bruises along her jaw. "At least they'll heal in a couple of days or two."

The RuinsWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu