❝ YOU'RE NOT GONNA FEEL
SORRY FOR ME ❞
–
She'd woken in bliss, muscles tingling with release, eyelids light as they flickered open. Not a muscle in her body ached, bar the slight stinging from the wound on her foot. The sheets wrapped around her like a chrysalis and Negan's large, sleeping body was still beside her, rolled onto his back with his thin lips parted. The blankets gathered on her side, leaving him bare, clad in nothing other than his checkered boxers.
Winona ran a hand down her face, rubbed her eyes and sat up on the bed. The sky was bright as it filtered through the grimy window. She'd never had such a tranquil feeling, other than maybe sitting on her oak in King County, watching the stream make its way south. Soft mattresses like the ones they slept on weren't so easy to come by. The ones back at Alexandria were rocks compared to what she had now.
The bed was warm and so was she, but fighting every urge she had, she rose and reached for the bottle of water by her bedside. Taking a few gulps, she walked to the sink and began swishing it around in her mouth. Her reflection was darkened by the dust covering the mirror. She looked the same as always, without the dark undereye bags. She smiled at her reflection.
It was a relief to be happy. Like a weight off her shoulders. There was a lingering sickness in her stomach, homesickness, the longing to see her grandmother again. Rick, and Carl. But there was nothing wrong with being happy. Especially when she had her plan, and she knew she'd be getting out; bearing insulin in the process.
It was foolproof. She'd slip out while she could. At least he couldn't say she was stealing. She was earning her own insulin, spending her weekly points on mostly the medication her town needed and getting by with scraps of food from the cafeteria.
She made a mistake, stealing from Negan. A grave mistake that could have cost her her life. If she was going to trick him, she was going to do it as honestly as she could. He was worried she would give up the Sanctuary's location, that the saviors would be under attack if her group found out where they resided. She wouldn't tell them. Underneath, Negan was a good guy with good intentions. As long as you were on his side.
She walked to the drawers across from the bed. If she had any luck there would be clothes left over from the person that slept there when the outbreak started. The first few shirts were oversized, an extra large in men's, but there were a couple smaller shirts. One was V neck black tee.
She reached down in an X, across her stomach, and pulled her shirt up halfway, then stopped. She wasn't wearing a bra, so she peeked over her shoulder to make sure he was still sleeping. She almost jumped when she found him propped up against the pillow, eyes half open and a hand behind his head. He had a lazy smile as his fingers tapped against his stomach.
"Keep going sweetheart, I'm still sleeping." He closed his eyes.
Scowling, Winona marched to the side of the bed and scooped up her bra and jeans from the floor. Negan peeked one eye open and ran his gaze up and down her body, then let out a grating chuckle.
"I'm getting dressed. You probably should too." She grabbed his plain white tee and tossed it onto his stomach, then made her way to the bathroom. It was a nice room, with shiny tiles, an almost untouched toilet, and shower despite the dust that sat atop it. She wanted nothing more than to take a hot, steamy shower, but she'd have to wait until she was back at the Sanctuary.
Making sure the door was locked, the slipped her tee shirt off, clipped her bra, and then put on the new black top. After getting her jeans on, she tucked her shirt into the waistband and slid on a pair of white socks.
Her hair was in her natural state, wavy and loose, falling just below her shoulders. She was happy with her appearance for once. She didn't look tired or stressed. The only thing bothering her was her prominent cheekbones and cadaverous stomach. Easily put, she was ecstatic to return to Alexandria where she wouldn't have to work her ass off for a meal.
She exited the bathroom to see Negan tiredly slipping a shirt over his mussed hair. His half glazed eyes followed her as she walked to the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
She stopped and tautened her brow. "What?"
"You stay by my side." He moved to the edge of the bed and swept his hair back with flattened hands. He was visibly tired but attempting to seem assertive. "Just because we slept together doesn't mean I fucking trust you yet."
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and placed her hands on her hips. She should have seen the commentary coming.
"Let's get one thing straight, Negan. We didn't sleep together. We slept in the same bed, which I only did because I felt bad for you. If you tell anyone we did either of those things, you'll regret it."
A crease formed between the man's brows. He had that ominous look, one she might have been scared of, had she been anyone else. "That a fucking threat?"
Giving a small shrug, she turned on her heels and reached for the knob. "Guess you'll have to find out."
The door she slammed behind her made even herself jump. Not until after she stood quietly in the Shining-like hallway, did she realize what she said to him. She threatened him.
That, he definitely would not take kindly to. Figuring she had at least ten minutes before he stormed out of there, leather-clad, wielding a barbaric weapon, she made her way toward the stairs and deemed it a problem for her future self.
The lobby was littered with disgruntled saviors waiting for their leader to wake up. Some were cleaning their guns, arrows, and the others were conversing, but there was a tacit uneasiness in the room. She'd made it worse by poking the bear, for sure.
Noah was leaned against the hotel front desk, picking at his fingernails. He wasn't with anybody so she decided to pass the time.
"Think the rooms come with a free breakfast?"
Noah looked up from his hands and twitched the corners of his lips. "I don't know," he said, tilting his head, "maybe. Oughta ask the front desk."
She peeked over his shoulder and pursed her lips. "Looks pretty dead to me."
"Heard they're serving hash browns and toast for breakfast, back at the Sanctuary," he said after a light hearted laugh.
It was better than the usual dry cereal the workers got. Negan's top men had luxuries even the newer saviors didn't have: egg sandwiches, bacon, the typical breakfast. They didn't have milk since it wasn't too easy to produce it, so the lower class workers were stuck with processed, probably expired cereals.
"If we make it back in time."
Noah glanced at his watch. "Negan's overslept but no one wants to wake him. I'd rather make it home for some hash browns and toast than my corpse being stuck up on the spikes."
Winona swallowed and kicked her feet against the ground. "I have a feeling he'll be down soon."
Just as she said that, the sound of his steel toe boots came echoing down the hall. Negan, disgruntled and not so pleased to be awake, swung his bat on his shoulder and swept his eyes over the crowd of people. They landed on Winona, narrowed, and then shot over to Simon. He curled his finger toward him ushering the bushy mustached man over.
They shared a few words before Simon stepped back, allowing Negan to clear his throat. His sonorous voice carried throughout the whole first floor. "Listen here, you little shits. It was a successful fucking run. We got everything we needed with no fucking casualties, and when there are no fucking casualties, I call it a good fucking trip. Scrambled eggs for my saviors, you know who you are, and hash browns and toast for the workers who decided to come along on this little fucking trip. We head out in five, if you're not ready, we're leaving you behind."
The men and woman scrambled around to scrounge their belongings and pack them into their cars.
"I'm gonna go get my bag from upstairs," Noah said.
She nodded "I'll come along." She would have stayed, but the piercing gaze of Negan from across the room was making her uncomfortable.
She followed close behind, clutching his arm to avoid getting lost with all the saviors swarming around them. They made it to the start of the staircase before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped. Noah turned around and before she could see for herself, his eyes widened.
"Winona," Negan's voice drawled. She sighed and looked at the ceiling, preparing for whatever little speech he was about to give. "Now, if I recall, just a few moments ago I said we're heading out in five minutes. It's not really the time for a quickie, although I'm fully sure your boy here-" he glanced at Noah, whose mouth hung open in shock, "-is fully fucking capable of fucking in less than five minutes, I wanted to have a little fucking chat with you."
"Just go," she muttered to Noah. Negan grinned ear to ear, waiting for the man to scurry up the stairs. He hooked his arm around Winona's stomach and bobbed his head upward.
He was gone in less than ten seconds, disappearing around the corner of the staircase. Winona gritted her teeth and turned to Negan.
"What's your problem?"
He chuckled. "What's wrong, Winona? High and dry?"
"Fuck you," she snarled.
"Oh, I wish you would." He grabbed her arm making her flinch. He held that same look he made not twenty minutes earlier, the crease of the brow, slight downturn of the lips. "If you don't fucking mind, I'd like to talk to you privately." He reached behind her to a door she stood against and swung it open. It was a boiler room, and if it weren't for the few diminutive windows, it would have been pitch black. The door slammed after he pulled her in and pushed her against the wall.
"I think you know what I don't fucking appreciate," he started, leaning over her with one hand supported above her shoulder. "I don't fucking like being threatened. I think I've made it pretty fucking crystal clear that I like you, so don't go fucking that up for yourself." He held up one finger and pointed it at her face. "I wouldn't tell a fucking soul about last night. You know why? Cause I respect you. You're not a piece of trash that I picked up on the side of the road, Winona, or else I would have tossed you in the fucking garbage by now. You're more than that. That's why I want you to stay. You could be my top girl." He shoved her shoulder. "But it's not gonna work if you keep pulling this bullshit. Do I make myself clear?"
Her lips stayed sealed shut. She didn't want to succumb, against every instinct telling her it was best. If she said yes, he was in control, and if he was in control, then he was her. She would be Negan.
There was a huffed laughter from his partly opened lips. "Damn sweetheart, you really don't know when to shut up and when to fucking speak, do you?"
"Why don't you answer something for me, Negan?" She spoke bravely, without a hitch in her voice. The man seemed more excited than angry, to see what she had to say. Excited for what, was what chilled her bones. "Why do you think I'd say yes? After you ripped me from my family, my sick grandmother. You think I'd go to caring about her, to you? You're delusional, Negan, but I doubt you're that fucking delusional."
His eyes were on her lips, intently watching her mouth every word. He licked his lips. "I thought you'd say yes because you're fucking smart. But I guess I was wrong."
Their breathing was heavy, in sync, as his chest rose and fell, nearly above her. He towered over her, his eyes hard and his lips in a thin, straight line. The blue light streaming from the windows contoured his face in a dangerous looking way.
"One more thing," he breathed. "You're not gonna feel sorry for me. Not for fucking anything. Just like I'm not gonna feel bad about your dead fucking dad, your dead fucking mom, or your soon to be dead fucking grandma either, because that's just fucking life and it happens whether we like it or not."
Winona's hardened expression dropped. She'd never had such a sensitive topic put in such a blunt way. It hit her so hard she could feel her hands begin to shake and her throat begin to swell with a pressure indicating imminent tears. Of course, she wouldn't cry then and there. She would wait until he was gone. Negan noticed but didn't soften his gaze.
"Be out in five or I'm leaving without you."
He wouldn't. They both knew it. But she needed time alone; five minutes at least, to let it all out.
And when the door shut behind him, she broke down in quiet sobs, her black sliding down the wall until her knees were pulled to her chest and her head was in her hands.
He got her. All it took was a hard hit to the most vulnerable part of herself, and he had her like a puppet on strings.
She should have never told him. He could know the ins and outs of her life from a battered journal, but there were some parts she wouldn't dare scribble on paper. She made the dire mistake of telling him herself.
And now, she was a weeping mess on the cold, concrete floor.