She woke up the next day, the blankets pulled up to her neck. Negan was peacefully asleep next to her on his back, his head turned away from her. His hair was messy and the blanket was up to his mid-stomach. She watched him for a quiet minute, and she found herself smiling.
Stop, (Y/N), she told herself, leave him be and get up.
She sighed heavily, sitting up and tossing the blankets off her and over his face. He grunted, startling awake. She yawned, stretching her arms over her head before walking out of the bedroom and sitting down at the mini-bar. Negan appeared shortly after, a satisifed smile on his face. "What?" She asked, leaning over on the counter.
He didn't say anything, he just looked her up and down. "Ready to do the same shit as yesterday?" He asked her.
"Oh, hell no." She said, standing up, as if that made a statement. Her legs were sorer than she anticipated though, so she immideatly reached for his arm for support. "Jesus. We were always running. Why am I so sore?"
"I don't know. You've been here for how long? Few weeks or so? You ain't done much of anythin' here." He said, but he wasn't done. "I don't care. Get dressed and ready for today."
"No." She said, letting go of him, backing up.
"No?" He said, standing up.
"No." She said, a smile spreading across her face.
"Don't be defiant, (Y/N)." He said, a smile spreading across his face as well. She backed up behind the couch, Negan on the other side. It reminded her of when she first arrived and they did this. "Catch me, you're too slow, asshole." She said, stepping from one side to antoher, trying to juke him out. His smile spread further across his face, then, suddenly, he leapt clean over the couch. "That's not fair, you fucking cheater!" She yelled as he managed to get his arms around her.
"Who's slow now?" He asked her, his arms around her stomach as she squirmed. They bothed laughed as she managed to squirm her way out of his arms, clawing onto the couch and climbing over it, toppling onto the ground. Negan laughed from the other side as she snorted, which fell into laughter.
"Get...Get up, (Y/N)." He managed, walking around to her. She took his hand and he yanked her up. Their laughter fell into small chuckles, then just smiles. They both sat down on opposite ends of the couch. "Busy today?" She asked him after a little bit of silence. He sighed. "Yeah. I should go."
"Can I come with?"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
She stood up anyways, following him to the bedroom, where he went to change. She slid in the door before him, closing the door behind her, locking him out. "Are you serious?" He asked from outside the door. She didn't answer and he sighed. She rummmaged through the drawers, sliding on a clean shirt and sweatpants, then some boots. She opened the door, smiling at him and walking out. "I mean it, you aren't coming. We got some meetings and bullshit, nothing fun." He said, heading into the bedroom.
"Okay, well I'm not staying in here all fucking day."
"Then help out downstairs or some shit, I don't give a fuck. Just be back by 4 PM."
"Fine, I'll just go gossip about your bitchass with your other wives until then."
"The hell you will."
"Gonna stop me?"
As soon as she turned around, his hand was around her neck and he pushed her backwards, and kept pushing her until she thumped into a small table, making the lamp on top rattle and sway side to side. She swallowed hard, her hands on the edge of the table as she fought to stand tall and stiff, though he pushed himself onto her.
"I'm still in charge here, (Y/N). Let's never forget that." He whispered in her ear. She didn't say anything, so he took himself off her and grabbed Lucille, heading out the doors.
...She only waited a few minutes before running out the door.
~
"That's it. I taught you everything." Ms. Jones said, her tone had a hint of annoyance in it.
"That's incredibly fucking boring. You do this all day, everday?" (Y/N) asked, looking down at the growing tomatos in the planters. Ms. Jones sighed. "I'm busy, child. Thanks for insulting my work, do you need anything else?" The frail old woman asked, grabbing a nearby bucket which was filled to the brim with clear water.
"Sorry, I'm just bored out of my mind here. Guess I'll go make friends somewhere else." (Y/N) said, reaching for a tomato. Ms. Jones slapped her hand away with her own free hand, tsking. "You musn't touch. They are still small, let them grow bigger. Every bit counts nowadays." She said, putting the bucket into both her hands again. With that, (Y/N) nodded, and Ms. Jones walked away. (Y/N) mocked her for a second. " To hell with that. 'You musn't touch. Growing and shit, blah blah blah.'" She chuckled to herself as she picked a tomato, stuffing it inside her sweatpants pocket.
~
"Dwight, go long asshole!" She yelled, holding the tomato in both hands, like a baseball pitcher does. Dwight barely turned around when she hurdled the tomato at him at full speed. It splattered on his chest, making him fall over. He was in shock, but quickly figured out what was happening when (Y/N) burst into laughter. "You little bitch!" Dwight yelled, scooping the slop of tomato off his shirt and tossing it onto the pavement. The sun cooked it on the hot pavement.
Dwight jumped up, running to (Y/N). She smiled as she ran inside, loosing him in the hallways. "Dumbass!" She called, her words echoing off the hallways. "You better run, (Y/N)." Dwight called, but it sounded faint. (Y/N) laughed to herself before skipping around the halls. She found herself upstairs, outside the wives' doors.
~
"Then I woke up. What do you think that means?" Tanya asked the group of them, scrunching the nose, clearly trying to think. She had just finished telling them of the strange dream she'd had, where she and Negan had a baby, but she went mad and killed the both of them. She said it so casually, too, it kind of freaked (Y/N) out. She could tell she wasn't the only one a little freaked out when she glanced over at Frankie to see her freckled expression.
"I think it means you want to kill Negan." Sherry said in a condensending tone, as if she was explaining math to a young child, but she was mostly playful. "Why the baby, though?" She pondered. "I was thinking the same thing. Maybe Tanya has a lust to kill." Frankie chimed in over her glass of wine. (Y/N) chuckled, as did Tanya. Amber silently gave small smiles over her red eyes. Sydney was no where to be found, and Sherry sat at the mini-bar.
(Y/N) looked out the window, seeing the moon rising in the night sky by now. "Oh shit, what time is it?" She asked them, setting down her glass of wine and standing up. "I'd say about, 8 PM or so, why?" Frankie answered, looking at the moon for a reference, then at (Y/N) as she hastily moved.
How is it 8-fucking-PM? How could I loose track of time like that!
"I'm dead. I'm actually dead. I've done it this time. He's actually going to kill me." (Y/N) panicked, grabbing her shoes and hastily slid them on, tucking the laces in.
"Negan?" Sherry asked.
"Who else?"
"Just..tell him you lost track of time."
"Or fuck him. It's a lot harder for him to be like that when you just..fuck him." Frankie said, shrugging.
"Hell no." (Y/N) said, hurrying to the door.
"Your choice." Frankie shrugged again.
"It's yours, too." She said before opening and closing the door behind her. She hurried down the hallway and slipped through the door, praying that he wasn't in there already. She quietly took off her shoes in the darkness - why was it so dark in there? - and silently placed them aside. She tip-toed to the couch, planning to make it look like she was there the since 4. When she sat down on the couch, it wasn't the couch.
"So, where the hell you been?" Negan asked from underneath her, at which she leapt off his lap. "What the hell?" She asked, standing up. It wasn't completely dark, so she could see his outline, after her eyes adjusted. He flicked open the lighter cap in his hand, the small flame illuminating the right side of his face. "Power's out. Lucky us. Where were you?"
"Out." She said, brushing strands of her hair back.
"Out?"
"Yeah."
"...With who?"
"None of your damn buissness."
He stood up so quickly, the couch scooted back a bit. He dropped the lighter, and thankfully, it sizzled out on the cold floor. He didn't touch her however, because she flinched and stepped back. "It is my buissness, see, (Y/N). I'm your husband, aren't I?"
"You're also 4 or 5 other women's husband, so."
Negan's face twisted into a smile, which was quite scary in the dark. She narrowed her eyes but kept her gaze on his face. If he tried anything, she would defend herself instead of freezing up this time. She told herself that, but of course, it wouldn't happen.