His brows furrow in confusion as Rick unlocks the cell and steps in. Blue eyes singing in anger like he fucking hates what he has to do next. It's not like he did anything, basically he did nothing at all.
It’s not fucking bath day nor he needs another damn haircut which making him probably look like an idiot. But maybe it’s another attempt to get him to eating, the past days had been lonely and he refused everything they bought him.
The consequences are that he’s feeling a little bit dizzy in the head with his sight blurry. Tongue clutching tight and dry to the roof of his mouth. Fucking gross it is.
"Whatcha doin‘?" Negan asks as the Alexandrian leader crouches down and opens his shackles.
"Yea, I can fuckin‘ tell, but why?"
Rick doesn’t respond and just orders with a nod to follow him upstairs. Maybe his time has come and now he gets lead to the gallows, like in the fucking middle ages. Two guards are following them like he’d have a chance to run away and like he’d want to leave that cozy shit cell at all.
Stepping into one of the houses he gasps silently as a sweet, familiar scent spoiling his nose...
He lured her in with empty promises of peace and other fuckery to get her between his sheets.
He lured her in, because he wanted her so badly until his loins hurt and he had troubles to get hard between the soft bodies of his wives.
The sex itself wasn’t the best he ever had, therefore he screwed too many women in his life. But it was special and in a kind intimate he only experienced it with Lucille.
Even when every shiver, every groan and every touch scared him so much. Because he might controlled the fucking world, but he didn’t control what his shattered soul and heart decided to do next.
His breathing becomes uncontrolled now as he let out short, raspy gasps and his knees wobble back and forth. Holding himself on the door way Rick hisses something, but he doesn’t understand as his big, hazel eyes stare on her.
"Is that a fucking dream?!" He yells out in disbelief.
"I hope when you dream of me that you dream of something more nice."
The sass in her voice making him almost laugh as he brings himself in an upright, more negan-ish position. Moving towards her with stumbling steps he hears the click of Rick’s belt and him probably pulling his gun.
What’s he thinking? That he’d choke her to death?
Again it’s amusing considered the fact that he can barely stand on his own fucking feet without having the feeling to collapse.
"You saw what we wanted you to see." Rick interrupts them from behind.
And it fucking hurts that they played him like this. That she played him like this.
Touching the large scar from the corner of her mouth to the ear Negan doesn’t have to ask what happened, he already can imagine it. A bullet must’ve hit her or maybe a splinter from one of the exploding guns and he fucking hopes that it wasn’t some stupid, risky plan to make him stay away from her and just an accident.
He‘s getting distracted as he notices how she doesn’t flinch or slapping his hand away, instead there’s a sparkle of want to lean into his touch. Smiling slightly he wants to give her more, feeding her with his desire while he gets his hopes up to get more than a lonely life in a small cell. A rough grip on the shoulder letting him growl quietly as he gets pulled away from her, Rick’s harsh words ringing in his ears, but he only focus on her. She clearly wants him to stay and he’d be on her side for the rest of their lives. But the fucking prick won’t let them and this making him more angry than anything else. Furious as he swings his arms.
Back in the cell it takes another long ass day until Rick comes like nothing happened at all and puts the plate with food on the ground like he’s a dog.
But he refuses again. Refusing today and the next day and the masochistic side in him enjoys how much it pisses him the 'leader of the new world' off.
"You know what I want. What kinda piss poor example will I be when I die from starvation?" Negan smirks the third day, his lips dry. "Let me see her."
It’s late night on the fourth day and Negan has barely power to sit in an upright position. His stomach stopped growling and everything in him started to feel empty and wounded, even his sore skin from the shackles hurts more than usual. Fuck, and not to forget it feels and tastes like a fucking monkey shat in his mouth.
As the door opens and Rick or whoever comes down he doesn’t turn around and just stares at the wall, seeing her face in front of his. It feels like he‘s on the edge of driving nuts and Rick will probably find him the sixth day making out with the wall.
A dry chuckle slips from his mouth as her scent fills his nostrils like he’s standing in a field full of flowers while the sun shines down on his face.
"Jesus, what the fuck?" He murmurs in disbelief about his thoughts.
"Negan?" A shiver rolls down his spine. ".. eat please."