"What the hell was that?" I ask. "How did Sasha get here?"
Nothing.
"Hello?" I call out as Negan strides down the hall, whistling obnoxiously and swinging Lucille by his side while he continues to ignore me.
"Hey!" I shout.
His thunderous footsteps come to a halt once he stops in his tracks. I mirror him from behind and stand still in anticipation and annoyance. He stands there, with his back turned to me, for a few hushed beats. Then, he spins on his heel to face me and closes the gap between us. His eyes squint as he traces over my features, the tip of his tongue pokes out between the corner of his lips, and he tilts his head to the side. I hate that I can't read his expression, but I have a feeling he still isn't happy with me.
"Why didn't you stop by last night?"
Damn, I'm good.
"Don't change the subject," I huff. I shift my weight onto one leg and place a hand on my hip.
"Answer my question and I'll answer yours," he suggests as he looks me up and down.
"I was avoiding you."
"Well shit," he mumbles, dropping his head slightly. "That- that's honest."
I shrug my shoulders, honest is one thing I know I have to be when it comes to Negan. Honest and resilient. "Your turn," I say as I fold my arms across my chest. He sighs loudly.
"She broke in last night. Cut a hole in the fence and killed one of my men. Now, I have a hunch that she had a target in mind," he points to himself. "I've got to tell you, Jade, your friends are wearing my patience thin as shit. This was their last chance. Sasha's going to join us for a while and she'll go back to Alexandria when I say she can go back, got it?"
His words grew more severe as they continued to flow from his lips. The lips I can't keep from watching when he speaks. The lips I want to keep from watching when he speaks. The lips of the man I want so badly to change. The lips of the man who I'm afraid never will.
"What the hell's gotten into you, darlin'?" His voice softens. Damn those lips.
"Hm?" I hum.
"You've been avoiding me, I can barely get a word outta ya," he starts to close the gap even more. I step back. "What is it?"
I remain silent and shake my head, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.
"How 'bout I make you a nice meal tonight, hm? We can talk about whatever shit's pushin' you away," he offers.
This is good. I have time between now and tonight to gather my thoughts, which feel as if they're scattered far beyond my mind. Far beyond The Sanctuary. I need to find Sherry, she can help me.
"No spaghetti," I mutter, looking up to see a small smile tug at Negan's lips.
"No spaghetti," he repeats. "I've got a few tricks up my goddamn sleeve, sweetheart. How's seven sound?"
I nod. Seven sounds better than right now.
-
Negan swings the kitchen door open, startling Harry, who is prepping for lunch by himself.
'Prince Charming,' Negan greets the Englishmen.
'Sir,' Harry greets him back. 'Jade isn't here,' he continues.
Negan strides further into the kitchen, laying Lucille atop the clean counter closest to the door. He knows Jade isn't in the kitchen, he walked Jade to her room. Even when she's avoiding him, Negan knows where Jade is, because Negan is everywhere.
'You're gonna teach me how to cook somethin' nice,' Negan says as he approaches Harry, folding his arms across his chest.
'Did you have something specific in mind?' Harry asks. He begins to grow nervous in Negan's presence, the leader had never interacted with Harry one-on-one, and he was more intimidating alone than he was in a crowd.
'Given our current predicament and paper-thin options, dipshit, no,' Negan pinched his brows together.
Harry stands in silence, contemplating Negan's demand.
'Let's get started,' Negan claps his hands together. 'We don't have all fucking day.'
-
I wasted my afternoon away in my room, attempting to find the light at the end of the tunnel that is my mind. After hours of battling with my thoughts, I figured it was time to indulge Sherry in my recent endeavors. I dragged her from the wive's quarters down to my bedroom. Now, I am seated on my bed and I'm filling her in on every detail. Her eyes are wide in surprise and her hand is clasped against her open mouth. Even though she saw it coming, she couldn't contain herself.
"You slept with Negan?" I nod. "And you're just now telling me?" I nod again, dropping my face into my hands and resting my elbows on my thighs.
"I don't know what to do, Sher," I speak into my palms. Sherry remains silent, so I continue. "I don't know what to think. I've said a handful of words to him since that night, he knows I've been avoiding him. I stood him up last night and he was upset, but I'm having dinner with him soon and I don't know what to say to him."
The bed dips beside me and Sherry places a hand on my knee. I run my hands over my face before dropping them to my lap.
"Tell him how you feel," she says. "Even if it isn't what he wants to hear, you owe it to yourself to be honest about your feelings, Jade." She rests her hand on her lap, intertwining her fingers gently. "Who knows, maybe talking it through with him could improve things."
"Or make them worse," I say as I look at her. "A lot worse."
"I don't think it will," she chimes with a softened tone. "You're the only thing he ever talks about, JJ."
I love that she uses the same nickname for me that my friends in Alexandria use. She is my little piece of home, whether she knows it or not.
"I told you he doesn't see the wives anymore," she adds.
"I shouldn't care if he did," I mutter.
"Would you?" She asks. After a few silent moments, I nod. "You need to tell him where you are, Jade. It's eating away at you, you've gone from work to your bedroom the past few days and that's it. Your feelings and guilt are tearing you down, and telling Negan everything on your mind will, at the very least, be a weight off your shoulders."
She's right, and I hate that she is. I'm usually not like this, I don't coward away from anything. Not anymore. I turn to face Sherry and offer her a kind smile of gratitude.
"If there's one good thing this place brought me, it's you," I say, pulling her in for a hug.
"And Harry," she adds, patting me on the back while chuckling.
"And Harry," I agree as I giggle along. I release her and stand on my feet, dusting off my jeans as I rise from my bed. "I should probably head that way."
Sherry nods her head and stands beside me. She smiles softly and heads for my bedroom door, I follow behind and cross the threshold after her, pulling the door shut behind me. As we approach the staircase, we head our separate ways. Sherry toward the cafeteria to pick up dinner, and I towards Negan's for a supper of my own. I ascend the stairs and stride down the hallway to Negan's bedroom door. Before I know it, my knuckles are meeting the front of his door.
Then, Negan's face is revealed as he pulls the entryway back. He's sporting a very toothy grin, his same white t-shirt, and signature grey jeans. To top off his look, he had a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder, with smudges across the fabric.
"Well, I sure am glad you decided to join me this evening, sweetheart." I'm not sure I had much choice.
His voice is delightful and elevated. I offer him a kind nod and watch him as he steps back, creating space for me to enter his apartment.
"It smells amazing in here," I say as I pass by his body, instantly heading for the kitchen. The front door closes right as Negan grasps my wrist and spins me around, a sudden feeling of lightheadedness runs through me.
"You go sit down at the table, dinner is almost ready," Negan says, grinning down at me as his eyes flicker between my eyes and my mouth. He releases my wrist and places his hand on my lower back, then guides me toward the dinner table, set with a white cloth, two wine glasses, and a large candle in the middle. He pulls a chair out and I take my seat.
"What's on the menu tonight, chef?" I ask as I watch him walk back into the kitchen. He pulls plates down from an open cabinet before closing it, walking to the stovetop, and plating the food.
"Patience, sweetheart. First, tell me how your day was," he says. Tell him how my day was. He hasn't asked about my day before, does he think tonight is going to go the same direction our night in Alexandria did?
"My day was fine," I mumble. Negan spins on his heel and saunters toward the table with two plates in his hands. When he reaches the setup, he places one meal in front of me and the other in front of him. Then, he pulls the chair out and sits across from me. "How was your day?" I ask in return.
"A lot better, now," he says with a smile. My heart thuds against the walls of my chest. That smile. "Dig in," he motions toward the plate in front of me. I look down and take note of the meal before me.
"Is this roasted chicken?" I ask, pointing at my plate. I can't remember the last time I had a roasted chicken. Negan grins as he stuffs a bite in his mouth. Chicken, risotto, and a vegetable medley. "Where'd you learn how to make risotto?" I pick up my fork and place my napkin in my lap, then I dig into the risotto and place a forkful into my mouth. It's delicious.
"I said you'd be surprised how many tricks I can stuff up my sleeve, sweetheart," he says, wiping his mouth with his napkin. It's not much of a surprise, though. He made the exact same risotto that Harry prepared for my belated birthday dinner. Interesting. I nod as I bring my glass of wine to my lips, taking a quick drink as I study Negan's facial expression and body language. He lays his forearm across the table and takes the white tablecloth between his fingertips, fiddling with the edges as he eyes me. I place my wine glass down just inches from his hand.
"So," he breaks the silence as a faint grin plays on his lips. "You wanna tell me why you've been avoidin' the hell outta me?"
"We just started eating, Negan," I huff. "I don't know about you, but I don't feel like arguing-"
"I don't plan on arguin' with ya," he chuckles. "Tell me what's wrong so I can get to fixin'," his features soften. He drops the hem of the tablecloth and lays his hand down on the surface in a loose fist. I sigh and drop my eyes to my plate, then pick up my fork and begin pushing my vegetables around.
"Where do I even start," I mumble. There has been so much on my mind lately, that everything became one jumble shit and confusion.
"You could start with the mindblowing sex we had," Negan smirks, tapping his fingers against the wood beneath the pristine cotton. My lips part at his jocose attitude, but he's right. It was pretty mindblowing. "I am more concerned with what comes after that story, though."
"Okay," I agree reluctantly. "I feel like I've betrayed my family, Negan. Everything they've done for me, everything they've given me, and this is how I repay them?" I point between the two of us.
"You think it was a mistake?" He asks cautiously, pulling his eyebrows in toward one another. I shake my head.
"No," I let out a prolonged breath. "That's why I've been avoiding you. After the things you've done, I shouldn't have enjoyed the time I spent with you. I shouldn't like the way I feel when we're alone, or when I see you for the first time in a while, but I do. Even though I've been nervous as fuck all day long, thinking about what the hell I wanted to say to you, I was still excited to see you."
"Awh, sweetheart, you got a crush on me?" He asks playfully as his grin triples in size, his pearly whites on full display.
"Can I finish?" He gives me a slight head tilt before I continue. I begin to trace the rim of my glass with the tip of my finger. "Rick knows about this," I look up to catch his reaction. There is none. "But I feel like I'm lying to him, to everyone. Nobody in Alexandria will trust me ever again."
"You told Rick?" He questions. I nod softly and watch his smile shrink, his tone became serious. "That prick's just gotta be plotting somethin' against me." He reaches for his glass and brings the rim to his lips, never breaking eye contact with me. "I'll deal with him another time." He seems playful now, it amazes me how quickly his mood can flip on a dime.
"Everything about this is, just. . . so irritating," I sigh loudly. Negan takes a drink from his glass.
"Everything, huh?" He asks as he pulls the chalice from his lips, placing it across the table from my own. "Even me?"
"Most of all, you," I chuckle, watching the light from the candle glimmer in his eyes. Especially, you. "You smile at everything, kinda like how you're doing now. You're cocky about it, too. Sometimes you don't take anything seriously, and other times you can't take a fucking joke. Your mood swings are worse than my mother's when she was pregnant with my little brother. Oh goodness, what else? The way you act like such a hard-ass in front of your men, but you hit a complete one-eighty when it's you and me, the list goes on and on," I sure do miss my baby brother. He would know exactly what to say to me right now. I haven't seen him since the fall of the world. He would want me to be happy.
"Oh. My. God," he draws out, gently trapping the tip of his tongue between his teeth. "You do have a crush on me." His smile takes over his words. I roll my eyes and drop my head to the back of my chair. A grin of my own stretches across my lips.
"When you first brought me here, I had one goal in mind. To kill you."
"And why haven't you?"
I groan and bring my gaze to meet his amused expression. "Because I like you," I shock myself with my admission. "And that's fucking disgusting. You killed my friends, you've tortured my family day in and day out."
"I got better 'til your friends got out of control," he states blankly.
"That's not the point, Negan," I counter.
"Then what is, darling? Enlighten me."
"You asked why I've been avoiding you, there's your answer," I pick up my fork and continue eating my dinner. Once I swallow my bite, I continue. "I don't know what to do."
"I would offer my advice, sweetheart, but it'd be pretty bias," he notes.
"Give me your advice, anyway" I nod in his direction, shoveling a bite of chicken and risotto in my mouth. I have a feeling I'll listen to his biased advice. Negan taps his chin with his fingers as if he is contemplating a response.
"I'd suggest doing whatever the hell makes you happy, cupcake," he picks up his fork and looks to his plate, picking up a piece of chicken on the prongs, then bringing it to his mouth. That's exactly what my brother would say. I watch as Negan continues to eat, weighing out my options in my head. I could stay here, in The Sanctuary, with Negan. I could go back to Alexandria and be with my friends and family, I'm not sure how happy Negan would be about that, though. And I can't be certain he wouldn't take his anger out on my people. For their safety, and for my own selfishness (which I will never admit aloud), I decide that staying here with him is my best bet.
"You think you could do that?" I test the waters. A lopsided smirk tugs at the corner of his lip as he chews his bite. Negan picks up his napkin and wipes his mouth as he begins to nod feverishly.
"Make you happy?" He asks. I nod. "I abso-fucking-lutely know I could," he places the napkin on his lap and draws his eyebrows together for a beat. I narrow my gaze on him.
"And why should I trust you?" I push. Now he narrows his eyes at me.
"I've told you, time and time again, sweetheart. I'm a man of my word," he grins cockily. "Don't plan on changing that anytime soon. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust." Silence begins to fill the room as I contemplate my next question, unsure if it'll drive this conversation in a direction neither one of us is hoping for.
"If it comes to it, do you expect me to fight with the Saviors? Against Alexandria?" Negan breathes in heavily and exhales loudly. His shoulders fall as a look of realization crosses his face. He shakes his head.
"As much as I'd like that, I know it's unrealistic," he says bitterly. That's all I needed from him, a little bit of realism. I had to know he wouldn't be delusional if I continued the situation between the two of us. He knows where my loyalty lies. Maybe more than I do at this point.
"Okay," I breathe.
"Okay?" He repeats curiously. He bites his lower lip, and I swear the flame from the candle ignites a flame in his eyes.
"We can continue," I point between the two of us, "with this."
"Does that mean you'll be my wife?" His voice wreaks with curiosity and hope. I chuckle.
"Let's not dive head-first into the deep end now," I say as I scrape together a bite of vegetables. "I still need to say, you can't expect me to fight them. I won't do it. If they need me, I can't say I won't help them. They're still my family."
Negan nods. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you. You're loyal, it's one of my favorite things about ya."
"I mean it, Negan. They're my priority over this place. But with that in mind, I'm not going to attack you, either," I add. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but I've been honest with you from the start and I'm not going to start lying to you now."
"You're right," he drops his fork against the plate. "It's not what I want to hear, but I respect you for sticking to your word. After all, I'm a man of my word." I can't help but laugh, even if what he said is true. I pick up my fork and mirror Negan's actions as I continue to pick at my meal. "Speaking of wives," he continues, letting an uncomfortable silence linger for longer than I'm comfortable with.
"What about them," I try not to sound too eager. I can't help but wonder if this is moving too quickly, but I've never been known to have much in the way of patience.
"I'll get rid of them if that's what you want," his eyes soften. Yes, please.
"That decision is up to you," I drop my eyes from his stare and down to my half-eaten plate. I reach for my wine glass and bring it to my mouth, tasting the fruity bitterness as it crosses my tongue.
"Well that's good," he speaks as I continue to sip. "Cause I told 'em all to get lost before you got here."
I think I spit out my drink, or I choke trying to get it down. Either way, my mouth is empty and feels drier than the Sahara. Wait a second, Sherry was with me. I lift a brow in confusion.
"Well, all of 'em except for Sherry," he adds. Can he read my mind? "Couldn't find her, but I'll tell her first thing tomorrow." I bite the inside of my cheek to suppress a smile.
"Why?" I wonder aloud. "Where are they gonna go?"
"Back to their husbands, I don't give a shit. They'll stay here and work for me, for us," he says as he takes a drink from his glass. I choose to skip over the last bit, I don't want anyone to feel as though they have to work for me. This isn't my home.
"They weren't mad?"
"Mad? You shittin' me?" He chuckles. "They were excited as hell, none of them ever liked being my wife. Letting 'em go was the first actual favor I ever did for 'em."