Irresistible Danger

The Truth Hurts

Half an hour later you found yourself carrying a dinner tray down the hall that was quickly becoming all too familiar. Stopping at Negan's door, you balanced the tray on one hand and used the other to knock softly.

A few seconds later the door opened and Negan stood staring down at you with a stern expression.

"You're three fucking minutes late."

It took a great deal of willpower not to roll your eyes at his greeting. You had no clue why he was in such a piss-poor mood today, but lack of sleep and your emotions being thrown all over the place courtesy of Negan meant that you were running short on patience.

Stepping into the room, memories assaulted you from last night. A small blush heated your cheeks when you glanced over to the section of wall where you had been pressed less than 24 hours ago. Averting your eyes from the spot, you glanced around the room, unsure where to put down the tray. The desk was still covered with papers and books, as were all the end tables. The dilemma was solved when Negan went over to the doorway on your right and gestured for you to precede him inside.

A small bubble of panic hit at the realization that he was expecting you to go into what was most likely his bedroom. Briefly considering throwing the tray up in the air and bolting, you instead squared your shoulders and marched through the doorway. As soon as the meal was set, you could hightail it out of there, get back to the kitchen, and help with the rest of the cleanup.

Walking into Negan's bedroom, your eyes widened at the splendor of the large room and its lavish décor. You had been wrong in thinking the first room was his living area. It was more equivalent to a small work area and this...this was the fanciest room you had seen since before the apocalypse began. There was even a damn chandelier hanging from the ceiling!

There were large windows all along the walls to your left and straight ahead, which allowed a great deal of sunlight to filter into the room. Inside the doorway to the left was a white camelback couch that looked to be antique and extremely comfortable. To the right was a black marble fireplace with a large mirror taking up the entire wall above the mantel. Past the fireplace was a dark wooden bureau dresser that also looked to be antique. The floor was silver and grey swirled linoleum but in the middle of the room was a large square carpet that was white with a thick black border. The carpet framed the largest piece of furniture in the room, the one thing you had been prepared for but still felt embarrassed to look at: Negan's king-sized bed. The giant four-poster was made of black wood and had a padded headboard that was pressed up against the wall to the left. And of course he would have dark red satin sheets. They were currently drawn tight and neatly folded over the tall mattress, but you couldn't help wondering how recently they had been rumpled and occupied by one of his wives. Hell he could fit all of his wives on there at once if he so desired.

Jerking your gaze away from the bed, you saw that Negan was on the other side of the room where two white armchairs sat on either side of a round black table just big enough for two people to sit and eat. Giving the bed as wide a berth as possible, you crossed the room to join him and set the tray on the table.

You could feel him staring as you arranged the bowl of food and plate of rolls, folding a napkin and neatly placing the silverware on top. Taking the glass of ice, you filled it with water from a pitcher before placing them both on the table, leaving you with an empty tray and a feeling of relief that the job was done. Stepping back, you motioned that you were finished and watched as Negan took off his gloves and sat down at the table, his gaze scrutinizing every detail of the meal in front of him.