Stand By Me (Daryl Dixon)

T w o

will

I lightly knock on Negan's door.

"Decent." I can hear the smirk in voice, I open the door to see Negan sitting at a desk in the corner, sharpening some knives. "You follow orders pretty well."

"I got to." I say, standing awkwardly with the door still open.

"Well, come on in and take a seat." He points to the seat across from himself. I obey his offer and I sit and I watch his hands sharpening the blade.

I'm scared, terrified and anxious. At any moment, he can get up and take me to the bed, which was nowhere to be see. At any moment, his mood can change. I look around his room and see his barbed wired bat hanging on the wall, stained with blood, shown off like a trophy. The room is clean, surprising. I thought he'd be the messiest leader. Looking around, the room quite big compared to Chase's and I. I notice another door, most likely the bedroom. This room however has a huge desk covered in neatly placed books and papers.

"How are you today?" He asks, placing the knife in his hand on the table. "How are you enjoying this place. It's pretty fucking fantastic don't you think?"

I nod to the questions being asked and play with my fingers.

"Please, speak when I ask you a question." Irritation in his voice. "There's no need to be nervous, Shay."

"I like it a lot, it's home." I say looking at my moving fingers.

"You can look at me you know. Am I that horrible to look at." I look up immediately, looking him right in the eyes.

Looking at him, so close. His eyes are a mesmerizing light brown colour, a woman can get lost in them. His demeanor is a constant back and forth. You could get lost in those eyes forever if he wanted that. His asshole attitude always on full show. Everything is a show for him. Just entering a room everyone stops, looks, and kneels. Him, the all mighty God in this compound. The only people who don't kneel are the kitchen workers while working, cause it's unsanitary. Everything must be in order. Meals, outings, and people. Especially people. By the look of this room, you know he gets what he wants.

"You are not horrible to look at." I say with the growing confidence in me.

"No? What am I?"

"You are very sexy." The word coming out like vinegar, even though it's the truth.

He then burst out laughing, "Damn, girl, are you trying to get in my fucking pants?" The embarrassment forming up my neck and to my cheeks. All I could do is shake my head no. "Shay, this isn't that. If I wanted sex then it would already be happening. I want to get to know you, like all the others in here. It important to me, just like the consent to fucking is."

"I didn't know that was important to you." I can feel the heat leave my face. Rolling his eyes, he continues.

"How old are you?" he leans forward.

"Twenty-four." I simply state.

"Young! We need young." He claps his hands together, making me jump. "Would you stop being scared! You're not here for me to beat, that would make our newly bond broken."

He doesn't even know how broken the bond already is, my brother waiting for me to leave. To go someplace where Negan won't be. Someplace where the threat of getting your face melted off by an iron is off the table, Dwight had the unfortunate pleasure to meet the red end of the iron. That days still haunting my dreams.

"I'm sorry."

"Who do you think I am?" The sly smile appears. I drop my gaze.

"M-murder." I shudder, thinking out loud. Thinking about the people from a couple of days ago, realizing that I've said the word out loud, I look up to Negan. His smile didn't leave his face, him eyebrows raised now.