chapter v.

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A COUPLE months flew by at the Sanctuary. A couple months since we'd taken Alexandria's supplies. A couple months since one of Negan's wives had spoken to me.

A couple months since Negan and I fucked against a tree.

After we had returned from our 'run' that day, I immediately took a hot shower. As much as I regrettably enjoyed that moment, I wanted to wash the sin away. I wanted to wash away the feeling of his hands on me; of his lips on my skin.

But I couldn't.

No matter how hard I tried to get rid of his skin against mine, I could still feel it. I could still feel his calloused hands, his rough lips, and his hot breath.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, knowing that when I left this room I would see his face for the hundredth time. And every time that I had seen him since our encounter, all I could imagine was his body against mine. Every time I saw him, I saw the same look in his eyes.

I sat up, slowly dragging myself out of bed and into the shower for another attempt to wash him away. The hot water burned my back, as the scars from the tree hadn't completely healed.

I looked at myself in the mirror; the bags under my eyes were darker and my cheekbones were more prominent. I noticed that the color in my eyes was starting to fade, the blue they once were changing into a storm gray.

I put on my clothes, pulling Maggie's sweater on over my shirt before leaving my room to eat breakfast. I stood in line with my plate, asking for eggs, an apple, and water as the woman sitting there docked my points.

Grabbing my things, I turned and searched for an empty table, finding one in the far corner. Sitting here alone reminded me of my days in high school where I would sit alone and read a book while the other kids mocked me.

But no one mocked me now, they knew better than to mess with me as they also knew how much time Negan spent with me.

And speaking of the devil, he waltzed in, sporting his prized possession and the usual leather jacket. Everyone bent down as he gazed among us, looking for something − or someone − in particular.

And who would have guessed it would be me?

Negan's cold gaze landed on me, his eyes staying locked with mine as he strolled over.

"Mind if I join you, sweetheart?" He asked, grinning down at me. I shook my head and he sat down, taking my apple and biting into it. "Continue!" He shouted, everyone unpausing to complete their tasks.

I got off the ground, sitting back in my seat and picking at my eggs. I had felt immensely hungry today, but I lacked the motivation to eat.

"Not hungry, darling?" Negan questioned, his eyebrows furrowing at my sudden lack in appetite.

"I'm hungry, I just don't feel like eating." I answered, putting my fork down and leaning back in the chair. I sighed, a headache had formed and my ears felt like they were bleeding.

"Sweetheart, you look pale." His voice faded as he spoke, and everything began to spin. I suddenly remembered the night Negan had killed Glenn and Abraham and realized I was having a panic attack.

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