I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

A request

Blake was sat outside in the sun, now dressed in her khaki shorts and white t-shirt, enjoying the warm weather with an untouched book and a bottle of water propped beside her.

Now that she was in something more comfortable, the day had certainly become more enjoyable.

And of course that had nothing at all to do with Negan being back.

Not a single bit.

She was sat on the small balcony, alone as always, watching through squinted eyes as several Saviours poked long spikes through oncoming walkers that leered at the fence frighteningly.

Each and every day, the dead seemed to be drawn here in their droves. Probably due to the masses of vehicles that seemed to constantly move in and out of the Sanctuary, but probably also partly due to the sound of the trapped walkers that stood attached, protecting the long fences surrounding the buildings.

Blake had at first, partly looked out for the dead figure of David when she had arrived out here, just a few feet away from where 'it' had happened. Gulping as her eyes had flitted amongst the decaying walkers. But she knew in reality that the entirety of him was now gone.

And that, well...that was all her fault.

But she kept telling herself that this world was different now.

And that if David had had the chance, he would have done exactly the same thing to her.

In this world, it was do or die.

And Blake just had to accept that now.

But suddenly, before she could dwell on this any longer, a large looming shadow fell across her seat.

Blake immediately pursed her lips, almost rolling her eyes huffily.

"You here to bother me again?" she uttered a little snappily, unable to help her lips twitching up into the smallest of smirks.

But to her surprise, the reply that came, was not from the leader of the Saviours, Negan, as expected, but instead from another voice.

"I-I'm sorry, I just saw you out here and thought I'd say hello. Thought it might be appropriate to offer my condolences and the like, given the situation," came the quiet, low tone of-

"Eugene," said Blake suddenly, peering up at the mullet-wearing man through the sunlight that silhouetted him. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Eugene stepped around Blake, his mouth fixed into a straight line.

He nodded down at her.

"I just thought I would come and see how you were," he said in matter-of-fact tone. "After what happened the other night....well, that would be hard on anyone. But if it's any consolation, I thought you did the right thing. David seemed like, if you pardon my French, a pretty bad egg."

Blake bit at her lip, giving a gulp.

"I'm fine," she said promptly. "I'm, uhhh...I'm over it."

Was that a lie? Blake wasn't so sure.

Should she have felt guilty that she didn't really feel, well, anything right now?

Not hurt...not pain...not sadness....just nothing.

"Are you sure? Because I know from first-hand experience how hard these things can hit you, when you lose someone you l-" began Eugene, but Blake cut across him suddenly.

"I'm fine, Eugene, ok?!" she said in a slightly raised voice, getting to her feet suddenly.

Blake at this moment felt harassed.