𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -Negan x Reader

•12•

At the end of the long driveway resides a quaint, dark oak cabin. Three windows face the driveway looking over the large, covered porch. It's rather large in size, with more room than you would know what to do with. The yard is overgrown having not been tended to since before the fall. It's quiet, out of reach from the rest of the world. Negan slides the shifter into park and pauses for a moment. You look over to him, already knowing your fate and why he's brought you here. His usually smug face has fallen into a blank expression. He knows he doesn't have to tell you why you're here.

"I'll show you around."

-

He holds the door for you as he's made a habit of doing so. Your feet meet a red welcome mat and the smell of wood and dust fill your nose upon entry. It's even more beautiful on the inside. Black cherry curtains lace the windows, there's a brown leather couch adorned with a red quilt thrown on the back. A matching recliner sits adjacent, facing the stone fireplace. You're taken aback when the overhead light flicks on.

"It's got solar panels.", Negan informs you.

You nod, rubbing your fingers across the soft stitches of the quilt.

"There's well water, lots of food in the pantry. It's fenced in, quiet."

Your eyes trace the room another time before you turn and face him. It's still not an easy thing to do. He still makes you so nervous when his eyes graze you. His lips are strung into a soft frown, eyes dull, he doesn't want to do this.

"I found this place a while ago, was gonna hunker down here if shit ever went sideways. You said something last night about wanting to get out of there and never look back and it reminded me."

You take a moment, processing the little tidbit of information from last night. Your cheeks almost flush, realizing the conversation must've got deep and you can't recall any of it.

"I was so drunk. I don't remember any of it.", you tell him, shaking your head.

Your fingers nervously pinch at the quilt behind you.

"That part seemed pretty fuckin' genuine to me.", his eyes scan you almost as if he's analyzing you as frantically as you do him.

You come to the conclusion that he was probably nervous about your reaction to the banishment. So many emotions are flowing through you that you can't pinpoint exactly how you feel.

"Believe me, I have played every scenario over in my head a thousand times. It doesn't matter if I tell them you're my wife, if I kill them, iron them; somebody is always going to want your fucking head on a pike.", he explains, hopelessness lacing each syllable.

You stew on this, taking it in and trying to understand his reasoning. The same question keeps popping into your brain, every single time he goes out of his way, every caring gesture, everything he's done up until now and including now.

"Why?", you ask simply, no longer afraid of prying too much.

His brows slightly furrow in confusion. Before he answers you continue,

"Why do you care? This last week, you have gone above and beyond to try and save me in any way you can. Why? And don't give me some bullshit one-liner about how you just care cause you can. My head has been spinning trying to figure you out and I can't. So please, tell me why.", you interrogate him, completely exasperated.

You can feel the tension rise in the air between you two. His eyes slightly harden, as if it rubbed him the wrong way. Regret pulls at your chest, part of you wishing you would've just bit your tongue, but curiosity has seemed to always get the best of you.