blue sunday; negan

07; doubts

VII. doubts

Elizabeth had been left alone the days following their trip to Alexandria. She appreciated being by herself for a while, she had a lot on her mind and needed some peace to deal with it. The room was dimly lit with just a couple of candles on the table granting her enough light to make out the words of her book, though her eyes mostly seemed locked on the same few words.

She hadn't read more than two pages though she'd been sitting with the book in her hand for an hour by then. Her mind kept on drifting, Olivia occupying her mind more than she would admit. Negan was taking the ones she loved away from her in one way or another, and she still couldn't bring herself to only hate him. She was angry, sure, but something was different in her. She knew why he did the things he did, and though she didn't agree with his motives, she understood – it humanized him, leaving her sympathizing with him even though she didn't want to.

A knock on the door echoed in the sparsely decorated room, she had to take the earphones out of her ears to make sure she wasn't imagining things at the late hour. She threw a glance at the small clock over her desk, confirming that it was almost midnight. She stood up from the sofa before placing her book on the armrest, moving over to the door and opening it. She hadn't expected it to be anyone else than Negan, mostly because she'd hardly talked to anyone else since she arrived at the Sanctuary. She noted that he looked very relaxed; he'd left his jacket and bat behind, wearing a grey t-shirt along with his usual pants and boots. In his hand, she could see a canvas bag with something inside.

"Checking me out, huh?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Almost didn't recognize you without your murder accomplice."

Negan smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Lucille went to bed early."

Elizabeth looked at him with raised eyebrows before stepping to the side with a small smile grazing her lips. "Are you sneaking out on your bat to hang out with me? Wow."

"What can I say, never been a good husband," Negan spoke, smirking briefly as he walked past her into the room. Elizabeth turned towards him, hearing the door slam shut behind the two. Negan wasted no time making himself comfortable, sitting down on the couch that was placed in the corner of her room. The small table in front of the sofa soon held various food items; fruits and berries, a loaf of bread with butter and cheese on the side and a bottle of whisky. The bread smelled delicious; she hadn't felt anything like it in a long time.

"You planning to stay here long?" Elizabeth spoke as she watched him unpack the food. Negan smiled, sitting back in the couch and looking at her.

"A little bird in the kitchen mentioned to me that you haven't been eating," Negan spoke, leaning back while looking relaxed.

"I was there this morning," Elizabeth retorted, looking at Negan with crossed arms.

"Yes, you got a cup of black coffee. Last time I checked; coffee doesn't have nutrients and doesn't keep you alive."

"That's debatable."

"You're going to have to do better than that sweetheart, I've got eyes and ears everywhere," Negan spoke, patting the seat next to him on the couch. "This is no royal dinner but it should at least fill you up."

"Where did this sudden act of kindness come from?" Elizabeth spoke, sitting down next to him on the couch, but scooting as far to the edge as she possibly could. She looked at the food, genuinely impressed with the selection.

"I'd like to believe I've been pretty fucking generous with you this entire time sweetheart," Negan spoke, looking at her with slightly raised eyebrows. Elizabeth pondered it for a moment, shrugging her shoulders.