The Saviors finished unloading what they had stolen from Alexandria. I had Lucille standing upright in front of me, my palms keeping the bat balanced evenly. As I stood next to the truck that Negan and I traveled in, pain stung my heart. They took an abundance of supplies from my people, obviously way more than half of what they had in Alexandria.
Food was hauled to the kitchen and marketplace for commissary, medicine was brought to the infirmary, and clothes along with other miscellaneous items were taken to the marketplace to be sold as commissary as well. Negan made his way in my direction to take Lucille from my care. I picked Lucille up from the handle and passed the barbed-wire club to him. He reached out and gently took Lucille from my hand. I dropped my arm down to my side when the weight left my fingertips.
"You got any plans for the night?" Negan asked. A playful smirk found its way to my lips.
"Why? You wanna spend my birthday with me?" I pressed, mocking his question from earlier today. His grin mirrored mine before he spoke again.
"Maybe," he shrugged his shoulders and shifted his weight onto his right hip, slightly leaning backward. His smile grew, displaying his pure teeth. How the fuck did he have such nice teeth in an apocalypse? My smile fell as I stuck my tongue between my lips and two front teeth, feeling for any grime. "Why don't you go up to your room and get cleaned up," he continued. "I'll cook you dinner."
"You're going to cook me dinner?" I cocked my head to the side and raised a brow. He gave me a confirming nod.
"Be there in an hour," he said, "Don't fucking be late this time." He made his way inside.
I made my way into The Sanctuary, noticing the faces around me as I pushed towards the stairs. I struggled up the two flights and turned down the hallway toward my room. Once I reached my door, I twisted the knob and waltzed inside, turning to close the door behind me. The click of the hatch prompted me to turn back towards my bedroom.
My attention was drawn to my bed. A light-blue dress rested on my comforter with a note atop the fabric. I picked the note up as I approached, bringing it up to read.
Hope this fits. - NS
This had to be from Negan. I wonder what the S stands for? A plethora of possible last names shuffled through my mind as I placed the note down beside the dress. I picked the dress up from the thin straps and held it in front of me. There was no pattern on the fabric, it was just a pale blue, but the time of patterned clothing has been long gone. I carried the dress with me into the bathroom, gently hanging it from its straps on the doorknob. I turned the water on in the shower and began to undress.
After a swift shower, I found myself staring at the dress in the mirror. The way the fabric draped over my frame and rested so easily. My wet hair dripped onto the dress, darkening the spots where it rested. I picked my towel off of the ground and dried my hair as much as I could, hoping there would be no more discoloration on the dress.
As I left the damp bathroom, I glanced down at the base of the dresser across from my bed. A pair of tan flats rested on the carpet. Shoes too? I thought. What is he planning?
-
The double doors stared back at me. I curled my hand into a loose fist before making my presence known. My arm found its way back to my side as I waited for the door to swing open. My hair had now dried, resting in its naturally straight fashion. The sound of heavy footsteps grew closer to the door before the entryway was opened.
Negan stood with his hand on the doorknob, a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder. A dark grey t-shirt clung to his torso, his usual black jeans and boots complimenting the new shirt. He took his time to scan me up and down before his eyes met mine. He let out a suggestive whistle, earning a stern head shake from myself.
"Well I'll be damned, darlin'," He began. "You look," a pause filled the air as he checked me out again, "fucking phenomenal."
I took this as my sign to join him inside his room and pushed past him, my shoulder nudging into his arm.
"Yeah, thanks for the clothes." I made my way to the kitchen and sat in the chair facing the stove. Negan closed and locked the door before making his way back into the kitchen. The room was filled with the aroma of a tomato sauce on the stove. "What'cha making me?"
"Just some spaghetti," Negan returned to the stovetop and began stirring the pasta sauce. "Stole it from your buddy Rick." He turned his head back to face me as he continued to stir, a dimple popping from his cheek as he grinned.
"You can't be serious right now," I said in an irritated tone.
"It was part of our half, so I fucking took it," he explained. I shook my head, not wishing to argue with him. He dropped the wooden stirring spoon into the sauce before reaching toward two wine bottles. He turned to face me, presenting both bottles. "Red or white?"
I brought my index finger to my chin, tapping rhythmically.
"Red."
He popped the cork and poured two glasses of the burgundy wine. He sauntered to the kitchen table and offered me one of the glasses. I took the glass from the base, muttering a polite 'thank you.' He lifted his glass and I copied.
"Happy birthday, Jade." He took a sip. I gave a slight nod before putting the rim to my mouth and sipping on the balanced wine. It wasn't too sweet, nor too dry, and rushed smoothly down my throat. "You look beautiful, by the way," he said as he set his glass down at the position across from me. He then turned back into the kitchen to plate our meals. Hints of garlic and basil presented themselves and he gently placed my plate in front of me.
"Is that fresh basil?" I asked while looking down at the plate.
"Sure fuckin' is," Negan confirmed. "From the gardens."
Negan placed his plate down and sat in his seat. We began our meal, I had no doubt that I seemed to be devouring the pasta. We ate in silence for a while, nearly half of my plate was emptied, before Negan spoke.
"So," he started, wiping his mouth with the towel he once had draped over his shoulder. "I have something to ask you."
I placed my fork down on the plate and grabbed my glass of wine before gently sipping.
"Shoot," I encouraged him, setting my glass back down and placing my hands in my lap. I leaned back against my chair, awaiting his question.
"Your third option," he rested his forearms on the table as he leaned forward, "Would you like to become one of my wives, Jade?" His expression was serious, he wasn't joking.
"Seriously?" I asked. He gave a curt nod. "No thanks," I answered.
He looked at me as if he were stumped, almost like he couldn't believe I denied his piss poor excuse of a proposal.
"Negan," I let out a sigh and picked up my fork, "You killed two of my friends. The meal you so graciously prepared was stolen from my community. Not to mention you already have four beautiful women at your disposal," I finished, bringing the nest of pasta I had twirled around the fork to my mouth.
"Okay," was all he said before he looked back down at his plate and continued eating. I finished chewing my bite and swallowed.
"What's your last name, by the way?" I asked him. "The note on the dress was signed NS."
"Smith," he said, mouth full of spaghetti. I let out a chuckle, earning a glare from the leader. "S'funny?" He asked, taking another bite from his plate.
"Smith? Really?" He gave me a nod. "Negan Smith," I drew the name out, "what a basic white fucking name." I let out another laugh.
With his last bite, he looked up at me and wiped the corners of his mouth.
"No need to be a dick about it," he said with a grin on his face. I shook my head and looked down at my now empty plate. Negan's fork clanked down on his clean plate shortly after.
"I should probably get going," I said. I picked up my plate and rose from my seat. I scooped Negan's plate from in front of him and walked toward the sink to wash the used dishes. As I placed the plates down and began turning the faucet, two large hands appeared on either side of the sink, surrounding me. I hadn't heard him move from his seat, this move was surprisingly stealthy for the theatrical man who always made his presence known. His chest grazed my back, the warmth of his breath sneaking its way down my neck. I started rinsing the dishes before his right hand reached up and shut the water off.
"I can't have you washing dishes on your goddamn birthday," he said. His voice was low and filled with a rasp. "You do look awfully fucking hot doing them," he continued, taking any opportunity to compliment me he can get.
His lips skimmed across the top of my ear, my hair protecting the skin. I spun around and faced him, his arms were still sturdy against the edge of the sink, barricading me in. I took my time taking him in, running my eyes across his outfit again. My eyes reached his face, he had been staring at me intently. His gaze dropped to my lips as his tongue swept across his lower lip. I brought my hand up to his chest and leaned forward, bringing my lips next to his ear. His breath hitched slightly.
"Back the fuck up," I pushed him back a number of steps and a smirk grew on his face. When an opening cleared, I made my way back to the table. I picked up my glass of wine and took the last swig. Negan's footsteps approached me again, his presence lingering behind me.
"We didn't even get to dessert," he said in a deep, soft tone. I created space between us as I made my way to the exit.
"Raincheck?" I called back, reaching for a doorknob. I pulled the door open and shifted my hand to hold it open as I walked through. I turned around, switching hands on the face of the door, and now facing Negan.
"Careful, darling," he warned as he reached for the edge of the door, propping it open for me. "I might just hold you to that." He kicked his right leg behind his left, leaning his weight against the door. I shook my head and rolled my eyes in synch. I wonder if there was any actual dessert. Any sweets around The Sanctuary were hard to come by, and knowing Negan's personality, he definitely meant the other dessert.
"What are you thinking about?" He rumbled, that same southern twang peaking through. His eyes flickered to my lips again.
"Going to bed," I said truthfully.
"What's wrong with mine?" He implored. "You look breathtaking tonight, fucking seriously."
I took a half-step back and led into a pivot backward, turning towards the stairs.
"Goodnight, Negan," I called back to him, waving my hand over my shoulder.
"Sweet dreams, sugar." He said before closing his door.
I made my way down the hall and turned to go down the stairs. What the fuck was that? I screamed in my head. A grin found its way to my face. What the fuck was that?