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

Uninvited guests

In stark contrast to the rainy few days of late, the sky had brightened somewhat this afternoon, and a warm sun had appeared in the sky, sending down its well-needed rays onto the heads of the Saviours, as they toiled in the Sanctuary lots below.

It was tough and laboursome work for most of them, but they continued with it anyway. Even those who didn't care about bettering the place, did care about the wrath of Negan if they refused to pull their weight.

The leader of the Saviours had arrived back home over an hour ago.

And feeling in a great mood after last night, the Negan was more than content with standing out in the sunshine for a while, keeping a close by on the shaping of his empire.

He was stood up now on the small balcony that overlooked the grey and dismal area, leaning hs long form against the yellow railing, watching his men work with a smirk lingering across his tanned and stubbly face.

Negan felt good. Things were finally getting back on track between him and Blake, and after last night (and this morning of course) Negan felt far more positive about their future again.

She was his everything. And this last week or so without her in his life, Negan had found tough. So tough in fact, that he likened it to the emotions he had felt after Lucille had passed. Anger... frustration...and utter hopelessness.

But unlike the years following his wife's death, Negan hoped this had finally resolved itself.

For Blake was almost back to her normal self, her light almost back and shining as bright as before.

But Negan understood what she had been through and understood the need for her to be back there in that place.

And as much as it pained him for her to be so far away, he knew it wouldn't be forever and soon enough she would come back to him. And hopefully when she did, she would be whole again and better. Because that was the most important thing now, even Negan, as self-centered as he was, knew that.

The dark-haired man gave a stiff groan, stretching out his tense shoulder muscles, as he eased himself back from the raiing, smirking slightly to himself as he pondered the reason for his body aching like this.

Last night had been fucking incredible and Negan had almost forgotten what it had felt like to be that close to Blake.

The events of the last few months had taken their toll on both of them. But it was the lack of physical contact that had placed a strain on him the most.

Shit, he had fucking missed her.

Missed her touch, missed the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips, missed the way she tasted on his tongue.

And last night she had finally felt like his again. The feeling of being buried inside her once more had been like drug that Negan never wanted to give up.

They were a good fit, always had been. From that first day she had walked into his life, bruised and beaten down, Negan had known that she was more than just a gal he could have made into one of his wives.

For she had made this dark world better.

Filled that hole, that had appeared after Lucille's death, and dragged him out of the darkness that had threatened to consume him.

And Negan appreciated that he needed to do the same for her now. To help her climb out of that's seemingly hopeless abyss.

And only then could she come back to him.

To them. Him and Mia.

Negan had never actually dreamed that two people could change him this much. But since they had both arrived in his life, his entire existence had been turned on its head.