SOTC: Hollow Tune — Brick + Mortar
• I sit my words beside my throne / you're not alone •
Two knocks swelled to fill the hallway. April kept her hands in her pockets, arching her stance to substitute charisma. Her mind was beginning to scrape back together, and she was able to shroud her face again. But her insides seemed to itch, sticking together like cubes of ice.
The door unlatched and swung back into the room. Filling the doorway was the looming form of her father.
It was no wonder that he rose to the top of the food chain. Negan commanded a room, infecting the air with a sense of obligation. He brought about the darkest senses, like black cherry soda and licorice, and lime-flavored Warheads in the school cafeteria. He was force and the warm kind of bitterness that slinks under one's skin.
"Why, hey there, sweetheart!" His face broke into a grin. "Pounded that boy into the bed yet?"
April mirrored his smile, quirking an eyebrow. "Not yet," she laughed.
Negan let her in, allowing her to make coffee in his kitchenette. That was one more thing that her father most certainly embodied—black coffee, no creamer.
She passed her braid to her left side, leaning against the counter as the Keurig machine wheezed. "I just wanted to stop by, in case you wanted to talk to me."
"Actually," Negan said slowly, and April couldn't help but tense her spine. "I was wondering if you could bring the boy my way. I want to see him."
The machine rasped to a stop, and April began dumping sugar into the mug. "Yeah," she replied, hiding her gag reflex. "Sounds good, I'll come by before lunch tomorrow."
"Cool beans!" He shouted, clapping a hand on April's back. It was all that she could do not to spill her coffee, which had doubled in volume from the amount of sugar and creamer. "Sherry's about to give me a good fucking, so you better skedaddle."
"Unless you want to watch," he added, with a teasing laugh. April couldn't help but let out a small chuckle too, and relief filled her chest.
"Nah, I don't want to make it awkward. Have fun!" She took the mug in both of her hands, chugging a gulp of the scalding liquid. It hissed down her throat, rubbing it throbbingly raw, but it nevertheless felt good.
"You're always welcome!" He yelled from behind her.
April almost choked. "See you tomorrow." She swallowed, feeling his presence fall out from behind her. Yet she felt something invigorated in her veins, and a bit of adrenaline slipped into her fingertips.
She silently thanked her father for that, then continued towards the doctor's room to get bandages, because she needed all the padding she could get to protect her whacked-up head.
♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛
The doorknob jiggled as the girl attempted to open it, and Carl almost had a heart attack. Quickly, as fast as he could manage, he slid the letter opener back into the mattress fabric, out of view, then retreated into his thin bundle of sheets. His eyes were closed as the door fell open.
He heard footsteps enter the room, heavy boots on carpet. The door swung shut behind her. The sound of a mug set down on her nightstand. Carl fought to keep his breath steady.
The lights flicked off, and his vision was blanketed in darkness. He listened to April turn over in her bed, aware of her body, mere feet away from him.
He was reminded of it again: her existence felt like one of a goddess, radiating a morbid sort of energy. Commanding was the word.
He attempted ignoring her presence, considering the possibility of sleep, but his mind was whirling too fast to rein back into his control. And the strong scent of coffee kept him at the surface.
"Whatever you're thinking, the night's listening."
April's sharp voice made him flinch. She shifted in bed again, and he felt her eyes bore into his back.
"I know you're awake."
Carl held his breath in his throat, eyes squeezing as tight as possible.
A moment passed, and April's glance fell off of him. "They're always awake on the first night," she whispered to herself. "Normally they respond. What's up with you, Carl-y?"
Waiting for him to answer, she let out a breath. "I mean, that's what I've been trying to decide all day."
Carl felt the day's terror and curiosity seize up inside of him, collecting together in a writhing, poisonous beast. Without much consent from his exhaustion-ridden mind, he sat up in bed, and let it loose through his mouth.
"You're fucking remorseless, you know that?" He felt naked without his hat, or his bandage, but the silence of the room sent him roiling. "I want you to tell me why one minute you're rooting for your father, the man who smashed his fucking baseball bat into my friend's heads—" Carl recalled the events of that morning, etched into the backs of his eyelids like glyphs, never leaving. "Then you come back here, and give me this... look. Where I—" He took a breath, gathering his words. "Where I could've sworn there was some pity in there, some kind of compassion? And then you run away from me like a scared animal. And here you are, not even an hour later, entirely occupied in your lunatic know-nothings again."
He clenched a fist in his lap, welling all of his rage into his glare, pointed straight at April's eyes. She wore an expression of surprise, and a kind of defensive reflex, like a cat with her ears flattened to her head.
He swallowed, and felt the anger spit from his mouth. "Tell me who you are."
Carl felt his gut slowly sinking downward, a sickened sense shooting through his body like fireworks. This was why he tried to bottle his emotions, because saying things like this could inspire worse developments. What had he thought before, that he could blend in here as a double agent? All possibilities of that had vaporized by every word that passed his lips.
April laid back into bed, and for a moment, Carl thought she was ignoring him.
But then he noticed she was smiling.
"Damn, you're talkative today." She clicked her tongue. "Carl-y, I thought I'd made it clear."
A moment passed, when he knew what she meant. Two words that everyone in this compound had spoken, overruling their identities. He could feel them coming before she said them, but what caught him by surprise, was the way she said it.
Speaking through her teeth, you would've thought she was spitting fire rather than simple words.
"I'm Negan."
And, as April turned away from him, it seemed as if that was enough.
x x x x x x x x x x
QOTD [4-23-17]: Recommend a not too popular musical artist.
AOTD [4-23-17]: EDEN (aka The Eden Project) (aka Jonathan Ng) (who is a cinnamon roll)
Everyone needs to listen to "i think you think too much of me" because it is an actual work of art
x x x x x x x x x x
Word count: 1212
Created 3-25-17
(Happy Greek Independence Day)
Edited 3-26-17
Edited 4-23-17
Edited 6-28-17
Edited 8-17-17
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DEVILS ♛ C. G. 〖 #wattys2018 〗
Fanfiction[ c o m p l e t e d ] "She looked like a goddess. The kind that sends cities to their knees in fear. The kind that is never in picture books. The kind that twists people." - - - - - April is a devil. A demon. And above all, she is a...
