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Ch. 7 - Afterparty

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.