ELEANOR . NEGAN

100.

Eleanor took it as a blessing when the sharp cold of snow and ice melted as the days got shorter and the air got warmer. A real fucking blessing. There was no harsh colds or worries that her tracks could be easily followed; no damp clothes and nights around a fire.

It was finally warm.

And Negan especially loved it.

He got to see Eleanor walk around in a pair of denim shorts - a size too small so they'd cling to her body and sculpt her like a ceramic. She'd wear those girly tops that were definitely for children but whatever. The only pop of colour in the dark flats — it made Ian choke when he first saw her. That was until he scolded at her and ordered for her to get out.

Negan's favourite top she's worn so far was one she found further through the small town, a tight cropped shirt that said cunting season with two rifles making an X beneath it. Annie told her to grow up so Elle frowned and found another top with the words overworked and underfucked. Frank screamed and held Annie's stomach like that was protecting the baby from the vulgar words.

Later in the night, Negan fucked her deep and hard until she was screaming his name into the pillows beneath her. She hasn't worn it since.

Then Elle would wear her converse per usual; sticking to yellow and orange laces with crew socks. They'd poke out from the fabric of her shoes and half the time they'd have weird graphic icons on them. One time she wore socks that said these are my sex socks with two stick figures fucking while she trained the younger people of the flats to fight.

She was never embarrassed or humiliated about it — she just found it funny all the time. And it's hard to take her seriously when she wears a t-shirt that says cult member while she decides people's lookout posts.

"I think Ian hates me." Elle admitted, her fingers playing with the velvety touch of a pink petal. "Why does he keep putting me on pointless tasks?!"

Negan just walked dumbfounded because Elle was walking around in those Godforsaken shorts and a different top this time. It was a thin-strap tank top that had splotches of dried mud on the blue material. He tried to pull his eyes away really but it was no use.

"Dunno, doll." His voice sounded rough and raspy — fucksake. "But hey, you got great company."

Eleanor scoffed and settled the pink flower in her back pocket. She threw Negan a look from over her shoulder. "Great company doesn't breathe down my back like a sexual feign." He grinned and she just rolled her eyes. "Nonce."

"Watch it."

She stopped and turned around to look at him. Her hands dropped to her back pockets as she tilted her head, her tongue running along her plump bottom lip. "Or what? You gonna smack me around a bit, Negan?"

"If that's what you damn want, sunshine."

Elle smirked and turned back around to continue their travels along the gravelly road. It was soothing — the wistful sounds of insects chirping through the growing plants as they swayed beneath the warm breeze. It was all just natural; she loved it.

"You think walkers catch a tan?" Negan asked, his large hand cupping his own jaw. "Get a bit sunkissed while they chomp on some damn kidneys or what?"

"I think you're insane." She quipped. "And no... they definitely just melt. Decompose a bit more."

"And stick to concrete like a fucking fly."

"Your analogies are terrible."

Negan just patted her ass. "Shush."