Twisted [Negan Fanfic]

Ch. 11

"Not all monsters have fangs."

Violet sits at the edge of Negan's bed, her bare feet pressed to the cold tile floor below. She runs her fingers up her arms as she stares across the room at the closed door. "You okay there, Vi?" Negan smiles as he pulls boxers up his legs, "You're actin' funny as shit." He walks over to the bed where she sits, sitting next to her as the mattress presses down slightly.

Violet presses her lips together and nods slightly before answering. "Yeah," she lies as she glances over at him, "I'm fine." Negan's eyes are tight on hers as he drags his tongue across his bottom lip, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Shiiiit," he groans as he tosses his head back, "you're still upset about that guy from yesterday." Violet looks away from him. She doesn't feel like talking about it. She hated herself enough already.

Negan laughs as he shakes his head, rising from the bed. He leans over, picking up his pants from the ground. He's quiet as he glides them up his legs, keeping his eyes closely on Violet. "That was his own fault," Negan confirms, "that wasn't on you." Violet closes her eyes as she shakes her head lightly. "It is my fault," she whispers.

"No!" Negan shouts as he zips his pants, pulling them higher over his hips. "If I say it's not your fuckin' fault," he spits as he grows closer to her, "then it's not your fuckin' fault. Do you understand that?" His voice is low as he leans towards Vi, his index finger pointed in her face. Slowly, she opens her eyes as she glances up at him.

His eyes are dull as the lines in his forehead furrow somewhat as he breathes in carefully. "No," she mutters, her voice weak, "do you understand? It's always been my fault. Everything. It never stops." She lowers her head as she blinks, a fire tearing through her chest again as she tries to ignore it.

"Vi," Negan says firmly, "do not play these fucking games with me." Violet is quiet as her eyes burn with fresh tears. Her memories begin to flood her mind. She sees their faces. Hears their voices. She tries to shake it away. She always tries to shake it away. Why was she so fucked up? It doesn't matter anymore.

"I left them," Violet whispers as a single tears slides down her pale, right cheek. "I left them when they needed me the most," she says as she blinks, her eyes full of tears. Her vision is blurred as she fights the demons clawing her from the inside out. "Who the fuck are you talking about, Vi? I don't have time for this shit," Negan groans as he turns away from her, in search of his shirt.

He slips it on beside her as he wraps his hand around the black leather jacket hanging on the side of the chair at the edge of the room. "Connie," Violet whispers as she answers him, refusing to look at him as she stares ahead, "Brandon. Laura. Lily. I left them when they needed me." Negan is quiet as he slides the leather jacket up his arms. He leaves it open as he watches her from the side, his eyes dark and focused.

"Your foster fuckin' family?" He asks, his voice haunting. Violet nods. "She was diagnosed with breast cancer," Violet whispers as she keeps her eyes straight, "she fought it well. She did everything right. I helped her get dressed in the morning, I made her breakfast, I took care of her. She taught me what pure, honest love was."

Negan is quiet as he watches her, his chest rising and falling calmly. He doesn't say anything mean. He doesn't say anything cruel. He doesn't say anything at all. "She was beating it," Violet whispers as more tears flood her pale cheeks, "she was so strong. I just knew that everything was going to be okay, but it wasn't. I don't know why I thought anything was going to be different."

"She died?" Negan asks, his voice low. Violet turns her eyes to him. He doesn't look angry. He doesn't look sadistic. He looks like a man who knows what it's like to lose someone. He's weak. Exposed. Violet turns her attention back away from him. "I heard Brandon crying one morning," she remembers, the sound piercing through her ears again, "so I went to check on him. When I found him, he was lying over her in their bed. She was dull, gray. She died in her sleep. It was a brain aneurysm, it wasn't the cancer that got her. Go fucking figure, right?"

Negan zips his leather jacket up as he removes his eyes from her. He sits on the chair, pulling socks and boots over his bare feet. He wraps a few belts around his waist as he glides his fingers through his sweaty, oily hair. He wraps Lucille up in his right hand as he swings her to his right shoulder, lying her gently upon it. His boots thud against the cold floor as he stops beside Violet.

He glides his hand up Violet's shoulder as he stares down at her. "People die, Vi," he murmurs, "you should be fucking used to it by now. Now, I have shit to do and so do you. So, stop fucking crying and get dressed." Before saying anything, he swings the door open, walking through it before slamming it shut behind him. Violet blinks away the last of her tears as she sucks in her lips, reaching to the floor for her shirt. The fire in her chest subsides as the spark inside fizzles ever so slightly, causing Violet's eyes to turn as dark and emotionless as his.

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A/N:

Is anyone actually liking or enjoying this book? I see I have a lot of ghost readers on this book. So, please, please if you like this book - vote and comment. It helps me so much in knowing what I should change and what I shouldn't change. Do you find Negan to be believable and close to character? Do you hate Violet's character or love her? Tell me your likes and dislikes + constructive criticism so that I can become a better writer. Love you all so much. Thanks for the reads, votes and comments that this book does have!

Love, Sarah <3