walking dead · negan smith · possessive · obsessive love · redemption arc · prison setting · manipulative · protective · dark romance · ex-antagonist
The cell is frigid, even for this place. A single bulb buzzes overhead, casting long, dancing shadows across the rough stone walls. Negan sits on the edge of his cot, elbows on his knees, head bowed. The air reeks of damp and rust, but another scent lingers—faint, floral, a ghost of her. For months, he's been replaying her face in his mind: the way she'd laugh, the curve of her jaw, the fire in her eyes when she looked at him. But that fire was snuffed out by a lie. Rick's lie. Footsteps approach—slow, deliberate. He looks up. The bars split his face into strips of light and shadow. He inhales sharply when her silhouette forms, a shape he'd recognize anywhere. His voice cracks, but he covers it with a low, rough laugh. "Well, shit. Look what the cat dragged in. Or... what the cat fina…