You

Ch. 14 - Pinky Promise

I passed through the threshold, stepping into my room as Negan followed closely behind me. As I maneuvered around my bed and toward the bathroom, Negan made himself comfortable on my bed, resting his head against the wall and his feet propped on top of the mattress with Lucille resting across his legs.

"Can you get your filthy shoes off of my bed, please?" I requested as I reached for the bathroom door knob. I twisted the knob and pushed the door open, placing myself in front of the sink. I turned as I noticed movement out of my peripheral vision, seeing Negan swing his legs over the side of the bed closest to the bathroom. He sat up to watch me clean my wound, Lucille now resting against the edge of the mattress between Negan's legs.

I turned on the faucet and cool water began to flow. Before I stuck my finger under the running water, I turned to face Negan, catching him looking me up and down. When his eyes met mine, he began to grin, and let out a deep chuckle.

"Sorry, I just can't fuckin' help myself," he shamelessly took in my appearance once more. I shook my head and turned back to face the running water, sticking my finger under the cool liquid. I gently washed around the cut, using my index finger and a touch of soap on my opposite hand. Subtle stinging ran through the cut when the soap directly touched the irritated wound. I reached for the faucet and turned the water off before drying my hands on my single towel. As blood continued to seep through the stitches, I decided to throw my towel into my dirty laundry pile in my bedroom, Negan watching my every move out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The towel spread across the soiled clothes that I had worn since my arrival weeks ago.

"You don't have a goddamn hamper? What is this a fucking pigsty?" Negan scolded, standing from the bed and approaching my side. I gave him a quick side-eye and shook my head. "I'll be right back," he said as he promptly made his way to the door, swinging it open and stepping into the hall.

"Where are you go-"

"Don't move a fucking muscle, Jade!" He called back as the door shut behind him.

So I stood there and waited for Negan to return. After a few minutes of shifting my weight from one leg to the other, I decided to sit on the edge of my bed. I looked down at my finger, which rested on my lap, seeing that the bleeding had finally come to an end. My gaze looked past my hands and landed on my boots, and I noticed a few drops of bright blood at the tips of the leather, atop my toes. It wouldn't be the first time these boots have had blood coat their surface, between walkers and dangerous survivors, I have had my fair share of the maroon liquid on my boots and clothes. It was inevitable at this point. I turned to the door as the click of the latch pulled me from my thoughts, and I watched as Negan made his way back into my room. He had a large laundry hamper in his hands and had Lucille resting in one of the bins. He dropped the hamper next to my dresser and turned to face me.

"There, now pick up those dirty ass clothes," he said, lazily motioning toward the grimy pile in the corner, next to the hamper.

I rose from my seat and shuffled over to the new addition to my room. I removed Lucille from the bin and placed her against the front of my dresser.

"Where'd you get this from?" I asked, turning to face Negan.

"My room," he stated, shrugging his shoulders.

"Negan," I huffed loudly through my nose.

"It's not a big deal, so don't go making seem like some grand fucking gesture," he said, raising his eyebrows, which created a few lines on his forehead. I faced the hamper yet again, noticing that it had three separate bins. "I'll get a new one from the commissary," he added.

"You separate your clothes?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. I turned my head to face him.

"Yeah," he said matter-of-factly. "In dirty, really fucking dirty, and I should probably throw that shit away," he said as he pointed from each bin, left to right.