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

Primal Urges

It dark and quiet as Negan strode through the windowless hallways of the Sanctuary, with Blake's fingers still entwined firmly with his.

Neither of them had to say a word about where they were going, but both of them knew. And it was just a mere moment later, that Negan gave the large wooden doors to his quarters, a firm shove open, the pair of them moving silently into his dim room.

The window was undraped, shedding a pale, white early morning light across one side of the large expansive space.

Both of them had forgotten their tiredness and cold now...Blake's warm hand suddenly drifting away from Negan's....

The dark-haired man just watched as she tucked a loose strand of caramel hair behind her ear, her green eyes finding his in the gloom.

"Is it ok if I take a shower?" she murmured in a soft voice, standing there as fucking beautiful as ever, still draped in his oversized leather jacket.

He hadn't lied when he had told her it had suited her. For there she was.... as fucking perfect as she always was...dressed in something that was his.

This was like her wearing his t-shirt all over again...

That oh-so-primal feeling of her  being his, flooding his veins.

Negan turned his entire body into her, parting his lips gently, as his chocolate eyes looked her up and down.

"Darlin'," he pressed in a low, drawn-out voice, shaking his head and staring at her earnestly. "You know you don' even have to fuckin' ask..."

Blake blinked at him a few times, offering him a look that was warm and gracious, as she nodded shortly, before turning and padding softly away from him, and heading into his bathroom, on the far-side of the room.

Perhaps a couple of weeks ago, he'd have followed her....but Negan wasn't quite sure what it was she wanted anymore.

Was she still hurting as much as he was?

Or perhaps more.....seeing that guy die right in front of her like that, just a mere ten minutes ago....that had to have affected her in some way, right?

Negan couldn't help but remember what Blake had been like after her prick of a fi-an-cé had died....lost...exhausted...distant.

He had found her in his bathtub that night...staring into space....but even then she had felt the need to be near to him that night. Sleeping in Negan's bed...curled up...tossing and turning all through the early hours, and crying out while she slept...battling unknown ghosts Negan wasn't able to help with, in that dream world of hers.

The dark-haired Saviour paced across the room now, glancing up over towards the bathroom door, slightly ajar with a crack of stark yellow light shining into his living quarters, hearing the shower switch on.

He wouldn't question her actions today...and whether she wanted to soak her troubles away, talk about it, or ask him to give her some space....hell, Negan would allow her any of that.

Because despite how much they had yelled at each other....shared cruel and unkind words...it had all been a fucking act.

Negan still cared for her more than he could say.

He had not felt this way about anyone in a long, long fucking time.

Not since Lucille...and his heartbreak from being apart from Blake this past week or so was killing him, one drawn-out day at a time.

He wanted her to be happy....as pathetic as that fucking sounded.

From the moment he had seen her standing there shouting David down in that dining hall on the very first day she had arrived at the Sanctuary, she had entered Negan's life like a whirlwind, tearing down every barrier he had made sure was up since Lucille.