Closer (Negan X OC)

Chapter 30

Much to my (and Negan's) dismay, Monday arrived, effectively separating us for the majority of the day. But we would see each other again tonight. After our night at the lookout spot, I took Negan back to the house, where we went our separate ways. He seemed to take my rejection well, although he did adjust his pants quite a few times, but I pretended I didn't notice. I think in his eyes, our "courtship" was more of a test to see who would lose their resolve first. He promised me thirty days of his company in order for me to realize that I wanted him. But after last night...I didn't need thirty days. I knew I wanted him. Badly. But I'd be damned if I was going to give into him that easily.

Due to my constant thoughts revolving around Negan, my day at work flew by and I felt myself driving home just a little faster. I was excited to see him again. More so, now that a barrier had been lifted, now that he truly knew who I was and who I had been, I felt like I could truly be myself. I could tease him and openly flirt with him. All without my tragic backstory and a sense of guilt looming over my head.

When I got home, I found him sitting in the living room with Cameron. Negan was turned with his back towards me, but I noticed the change in posture, the breath that he released when he sensed me in the room. And then he turned around, looking at me over his shoulder, and gave me the most charming smile I had ever seen. There was so much conveyed in his expression. So much promise in what the future might hold for us.

For the first time in a while, it felt like I had something to look forward to, this new and uncharted territory of companionship and intimacy that I had never known before. In the beginning, my depression had gotten the best of me. I had found myself falling into these toxic thinking traps where there was nothing but darkness and no sign of light. But somewhere along the way, light began to shine through, and I stopped falling into those traps that had once consumed me. Instead, I continued on. I began to see alternatives and considered them all with a sense of excitement.

Negan and I began to fall into a routine. I would spend the majority of my day at work and when I got home, he'd be there waiting for me. With some direction from my brother on my part, I'd make us dinner, Negan accepting his role as my helper in the kitchen. He would move around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and putting them away after I used them. We would all sit at the table, Cameron included, and eat. And we laughed about anything and everything. Negan's bravado was infectious, even to my brother. One night in particular, I had gazed at the two of them fondly, glad that they were getting along, and for a moment, I realized that I considered them both mine in different ways.

After the laughter subsided, Cameron would dismiss himself to his room and Negan and I would do the dishes, him occasionally splashing me with the water to elicit a round or two of giggling from me. And then, we'd find ourselves lounging on the couch, getting lost in the familiarity that came with being with each other. We'd watch movies together, Negan laughing at my profound love for horror movies, good and bad, and conspiracy theory videos. I discovered that he, like most other guys, liked action movies, specifically because he "loved to see shit blow up." And we'd talk, our conversations more intimate than the ones at the dinner table. I talked openly about myself, feeling comfortable sharing my likes and dislikes with him. Negan seemed intrigued by getting to know me, prodding me for details on my opinions and my past experiences. I learned a few things about him too, like his love for baseball and classic rock music. He also talked about his job as a coach, helping those kids that he felt were lost and needed a sense of direction. The things he told me about himself were superficial, not talking about the details of his past or transformation. I understood and respected that, trusting that he would tell me when he was ready, just as I had. It seemed like with each passing day, Negan would grow more comfortable with me. His eyes twinkled and shined brighter when I'd enter the room and his smirk was always present on his face, annoyingly adorable dimples and all. Things were progressing between us.

Well, kind of.

We hadn't done anything physical. There were embraces that lingered every night when he left. And I found myself often intertwining my fingers with his just because it felt right. It was all so PG, which I knew wasn't Negan, given his past polygamous tendencies. But he didn't say anything, which to me, was surprising. Even more surprising was that he allowed me to be the one to initiate all physical contact with him. There was some comfort in that and it reiterated his point of not forcing me into this and waiting for the moment where I would admit to him that I wanted him.

And I knew I did. I felt it every time I was with him, the way my body would respond to his. But a part of me was afraid to tell him. Not out of fear of rejection, but fear of disappointment. My past sexual experiences had been lackluster to say the least, and I truly didn't understand what I liked in the bedroom. I had a vague idea of what I would like, but had never experienced it. I feared that my inexperience would clash with Negan's sexual prowess.

Before I knew it, the work week was over. Negan and I would have the entirety of the weekend to spend with each other and further explore our relationship.

As I drove home Friday evening, I found myself rather nervous at the prospect, the feelings of inadequacy taking over and clouding my mind.
Cameron had dismissed himself for the weekend, probably thinking that I needed to get laid. And god, did I. But right now, it felt like being intimate with someone was beyond my comprehension. Especially when that someone was Negan.

I wasn't surprised when I walked through the back door and found Negan lounging on the couch, feet up and a beer in hand. The sight of him so comfortable in my house made me feel a little more at ease. When he felt me in the room, he turned his head to look at me and stood, putting his drink down and making his way over to me for our usual embrace. He gave me one of my favorite smiles and as usual, waited for me to come to him. And I did. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I couldn't resist.

"Doll, you are a goddamn sight for sore eyes!" He said.

I smiled widely at him as I closed the distance between us, my arms moving to wrap around his torso as usual. But before I could lock my arms around him, I felt myself in the air and squealed at the sudden action. Negan laughed at my response as he picked me up and pulled my body up to his, gently swinging me around in a circle. It absolutely melted my heart.

I couldn't help but giggle as his stubble met the crook of my neck and tickled me as he inhaled my scent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, which was a first given our height difference. I breathed him in and damn if it wasn't the best smell in the world. The smells of leather and spice that lingered on his skin, along with a scent I couldn't quite describe because it was pure Negan. He pulled his head back and I did the same, our faces hovering closely as he still held me flush against his body. I found myself becoming extremely aware of his body pressed against mine, the firmness and heat of it making me dizzy.

"Hi," I said. "Good day?"

He smirked at me. "It is now."

I smiled back at him. "Mmm. You're in a good mood," I said commenting on his playful demeanor.

Negan shrugged his eyebrows. "Can't a man be happy that his girl is home?"

I giggled, deciding to return his flirting. "Your girl, huh? I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Shit Carson, you've been my girl since the moment I saw you."

I swooned at his words, taken aback by the sincerity in them. And a part of me knew that he was right. I was his girl.

It hadn't been thirty days. Hell, it hadn't even been two weeks. But I knew what I wanted. And I knew what I had to do.