𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -Negan x Reader

•6•

You walk hesitantly out of the bathroom, scanning the room for Negan. You find him sitting in one of the grey chairs across from the couch. You grip your bag nervously as you step over to the couch. You try to avoid looking at him as you sit down and place your bag beside your feet, not knowing where else to put it. You feel like a fish out of water.

Your teeth find your cheek again, biting it out of habit. You finally look up and find him gazing at you, watching you in all your nervousness. His usually dark eyes are illuminated by the sun shining in through the curtains making them look like pools of honey. The leather of his jacket hugging his body as if it was tailored specifically for him.

God stop why am I doing this?

"As much as you don't want to, we're going to have to talk about this.", he starts.

You nod, letting a deep breath out, looking at your hands.

"You don't have to tell me everything. You just have to tell me what happened last night.", he says almost gently.

Your eyes flick up and meet his.

"Well, um, you know what had been going on, it seemed like it anyway," you break eye contact and look to the window.
"I figured um time was running out. I thought you were going to say something to him. I thought maybe I was being tested, by the both of you."

You lock your gaze on your hands that just don't want to stop picking at each other.

"I had a gun. I planned on killing him when he walked in the door. He seemed to have the same plan.", you explain, meeting his eyes again.

His entire attention is on you. His eyes reading every move, ears retaining each syllable. It seems to you that he's really listening. Something you're not used to. It almost throws you off track. The more you talk, the more your brain unsuppresses. Memories flooding back like somebody opened a dam.

"I got off work early and opened the door to a gun in my face. He asked me about you talking to me and wanted to know why. I lied and said you wanted to know if he could handle the job. He said um Simon had told him. The only thing that saved me was somebody knocking at the door. There was a struggle and he got the better of me and um did this-", you point to your neck.

"I stabbed him with a piece of the broken glass from the table. Then I shot him in the chest.", you finished, surprisingly without a tear.

He looks at you for a long moment, computing what you just told him. His face now softened.

"Why didn't you just tell me?", he questions.

"I thought maybe you and him were testing me.", you confess, maintaining eye contact.

He sits back in the chair.

"I told you that nobody was above the rules, not even him.", he repeats.

You don't have a reply. Dean had you so manipulated and scared that you would drive yourself crazy with paranoia. You can't tell Negan that. He won't understand.

"How did you know?", you ask, genuinely curious.

To this day you still haven't heard the explanation that set this all into motion and landed you here, in Negan's room.

"Dean showed up to work a little drunker than usual and started hinting around it. I kinda just connected the dots and came to my own conclusion.", he states.

To hear his name makes your stomach turn. It feels as if it gives him some sort of life. He's still living in peoples' minds, in their memories. He's definitely still living in yours. You don't think he'll ever die in your mind as he did yesterday.