Negan Imagine ~ “Coffee House Girl”

Shortly after the world has gone south, the Reader meets the man she thought she would never see again

Request: “Could you do a Negan x reader story where it’s near the beginning of the outbreak and they end up helping each other through?”
I had to change it a bit up to make the story properly work, but I hope y’all enjoy reading!

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Soft sun rays streamed through the dusty windows as you slowly walked through the house, the floorboards creaking quietly beneath your shoes and the wooden handle of your knife securely in your hand as your eyes were attentively wandering over every possible source of a danger.
Deadly danger to be exact, walkers that could have been just months or rather a good bunch of weeks ago living people you would see strolling over the street, talking to each other about the weather or complaining about their god awful jobs.
Now they were nothing more than walking corpses, trying to rip the flesh off of your bones to assuage their seemingly unsatisfiable hunger and to strike you down just to eventually turn you after an unbearable torture of fever and sickness into one of them.
Everything had happened so damn fast that it still sometimes felt as if you would wake up out of a nightmare any time.
But you didn’t, this was the reality and you had to live with it, just like you had to live with the things you had seen and experienced over the last weeks that couldn’t have been any worse.
A thick lump began to grow back in your throat as memories began to pop up in your mind, the tingling in your nose started to become heavier as tears began to shoot into your eyes just by the thought of the ones you had lost in this short period of time.
The pain was still unbearable, your only option was suppressing it and bottling it securely up if you didn’t want it to tear you even more apart than it already had.
With a shaky breath you looked down at yourself, your glance catching the knife in your hand your mom had carried with herself just until a week ago.
Just until you had lost her as well, just like anybody else before.
The damn knife was the very last thing you had left from anyone of your family, the very last thing you could hold onto even though it was just some wood and a blade.
Everything else was gone, everyone else was gone.

Chocking back the tears that wanted to fight for their release you bit your lip, trying to keep the grief from taking over as you slowly made your way over to a wooden commode.
Carefully you opened the first drawer that was filled with nothing but bills and other random paperwork of the person who must have lived here before.
With a huff you closed it again, your eyes wandering for a short moment around yourself to make sure that you were still alone before you moved on to the second drawer, a small part of you hoping that you would at least find something useful there.

Your hands ran through it the drawer that seemed to have been store for odds and ends before your glance caught a small black and plastic wrapper, it’s surface adorned with some pretty golden font that was oddly familiar to you while its writing told you about its inside.
A chocolate filled cookie.
A small chuckling scoff left your lips as you picked it up, finding yourself being thrown at with memories once again.
For anyone else this would have been just a lucky catch, a chocolate cookie in the goddamn apocalypse was after all a pretty nice treat but for you, this pastry meant more, way more to you.
It brought you right back to the time the world hadn’t been roamed by the dead, to the time where you still had the small side job in the local coffee house and even more, it brought you back to a special costumer of yours.

The coffee house was surprisingly chock-full as you heard the voices of the chatting costumers mixing with the busy ones of your colleagues while you filled new milk into the coffee machine, glad to be able to stay at the bar instead of having to run through the bustling people.
Grabbing a small cloth you cleaned the wooden counter up, keeping an eye on walk-in costumers before your eyes caught someone walking through the door.
A tall man, with dark, if not black hair that was carefully slicked back, a salt and pepper beard was lingering around his lips that seemed as if they were constantly curled into a small grin or smirk and hazel eyes that could glue anyone right to the spot.
You had seen him pretty often here over the last time but had never been the one to take his order even though today seemed to be the very day this was gonna change.

Watching your colleagues buzzing busily through the room you caught him walking towards you, his eyes darting at you before he leaned himself against the counter and looked grinning at you. 
”Hey, two coffees to-go please”, he said, his deep voice letting a shiver run through your body before you internally scolded and pulled yourself together.
”With sugar or milk?”, you asked with a friendly smile, beginning to let the coffee machine pour the dark liquid into two paper cups.
”One with milk, the other black”, he said, the grin still lingering on his lips while his tongue slowly slid over his lower lip, before it got captured between his teeth.
”Sure thing”, you said, feeling how his hazel eyes that were still darting at you began to let you feel their effect more than you liked to admit.
”Alright, here you go”, you eventually said, with the two ready coffees in your hands just before placing them in front of him on the counter.
Quickly, you crouched down to get two cookies for each coffee out of the small and different boxes beneath the bar, before your hasty hands grabbed them.
Standing back up, you reached out to place them next to the cups, your mind swinging somewhere else than you wanted before you felt the hot surface of the cups touching your knuckles and the next thing you heard was the man’s gasp.

With widened eyes they caught the coffee cup falling down against his pants, a storm of curse words whirling immediately through your head.
Great job, great fucking job. 
“Fuck”, you gasped, already making your way around the bar to walk over to him, your head turning with each moment more into the shade of a ripe tomato, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“it’s fucking fine”, he calmly said, picking up the cup and placing it back on the countertop before he stroke over the coffee daubed part of his shirt and pants.
“Wait, I’ll get you some wet cloth”, you quickly said, your mind still scolding yourself as you rushed back behind the corner to grab a small towel before wetting it thoroughly.
Now you had this handsome costumer for fucking once and sure, you just had to fuck it up and be a little damn wreck. 
God, what the hell was wrong with you?

“Might be a little better here”, you heard him say as you looked back up, catching him trying to get out of the way of the people and your busy colleagues  while he nodded into the hallway that lead into the café’s back.
“Yeah, probably”, you said back, forcing a small smile onto your lips as you walked with him back into the hallway.

“Shit”, you mumbled just a bit later, your hand sliding covered in the wet cloth over his pant’s side, “I’m sorry, really”
“No fucking problem, we might just get in trouble if your boss comes in now”, you heard his deep voice chuckle quietly before you looked irritated up at him.
“Why?”, you asked before you saw his fingers making a swift movement around you, your mind beginning to realize what your crouching and more than suggestive position in front of him had to look like to anyone who would walk in now.
“Oh…shit”, you scoffed, the blush that had vanished over the last minutes from your face coming back up again as it heated your cheeks up.
Other costumers would have made a big deal out of it all, but he was actually being really nice and calm, cracking a joking remark here and there as if he was trying to loose you up as well.
And you couldn’t deny that he was successful with it.

“If you’re coming late to work because of this I’m sorry”, you mumbled, finally seeing how the color of the coffee was beginning to fade.
“No not work”, he said as the wet cloth slid over the white shirt ,”My wife’s in the hospital right down the street, I was early anyway. Gotta thank you, now I don’t have to wait in those cold ass hallways. Gonna be right on point after her radiotherapy-”
Right there he stopped, the amused sound in his voice vanished as your eyes glimpsed up, realizing what radiotherapy meant for the reason his wife was in hospital.

“Cancer…I uhm-”, he began, letting out a humorless, even nervous chuckle before he gulped down while you could feel all kinds of feelings from before vanishing out of your mind and body and instead got replaced with compassion.
You knew what this kind of illness was doing to people and their loved ones, you had experienced it as a kid with one of your family members as well and now, there was this man standing in front of you, clearly uncomfortable and trying to get himself out of the mess he was sliding in.

“She likes that coffee here best, so I guess that’s gonna make her day a little better”, you heard him quickly add, trying to get back to the casual and confident attitude he was usually carrying while forcing the grin back on his lips.
“Yeah I’m sure of that. Also ‘cause the coffee in hospitals is always pretty shitty”, you added with a small smile, trying to loose the situation a bit up.
“Hell yes, that some crappy gnat’s piss there… and they don’t have those great ass cookies. She fucking loves those fuckers with the chocolate mousse filling”, he added with a chuckle, the smile and grin on his lips now completely genuine as he had seemingly shook the tension off himself.
“Oh yes, they’re the best.”

“The coffees are on me,…the cookies too”, you said a bunch of minutes later, as you placed the fresh coffees on the counter and a good handful of the chocolate filled cookies as well.
“But they’re-”, he began, pointing at the cookies with a confused glance and puckered brows before you cut him off.
“I know, it’s the little things, right?”, you said with a small smile, before you saw the one one his face widening.
“Yeah”, he said with a smile as well, scratching his palm over his beard stubble ,“Holy hell, then thank you, bet that’s gonna make her day.”
He gave you another smile as he grabbed the coffees and the cookies before´giving you a chuckling nod.
“Till next time, coffee house girl.”

That was his nickname for you from this day on and just like the nickname sticked with you and escaped his lips anytime he stepped into the café, you kept on giving him the handful of chocolate filled cookies for his wife with him until it became some kind of tradition.
Somehow you liked the idea of letting someone in hospital light up and even though they were just some cookies, you knew that those little things could actually bring up more happiness than one would guess.
So he kept on coming into the coffee house, mostly every day, then other times with one or two days in between but he always ignored the other colleagues and walked straight up to you.
It were always the two coffees and the cookies just like a talk about everything and anything, filled with his special kind of humor and with time, even some more serious topics.  
And next to the days you were at the café, he was quick with pointing the ones you weren’t there out too as he always ironically, dramatically and with a big grin on his lips complained about those days on which he didn’t get to make you blush, laugh or even cringe with his remarks and just got two cookies for him and his wife, that were to cap it all not even chocolate filled.
You hadn’t even known his name for the most time but still, you couldn’t deny that you had caught yourself looking out for him on the usual times he came in and liking the small chats you had when you were preparing his coffees.
Actually, they were even like a small break from the busy shifts.

“There she is, my favorite coffee house girl”, the familiar deep voice boomed as you watched him walking towards the bar and straight into your direction.
“As always?”, you asked with a small chuckle as he leaned himself against the counter and rested his elbows on the dark wood.
“Yep, as fucking always”, he said with a big grin, running his hand over the salt and pepper beard before you reached down to the box for the cookies with chocolate mousse filling.
Crouching, you grabbed the last five ones of them that were lingering in the box’s back before standing back up and placing them onto the counter.

“You’re lucky, these are our last ones with chocolate filling”, you said, nodding to the cookies as you began to make the coffees.
“Well then thank fucking god”, he said with a small chuckle before he raised his voice again, “But I bet you would’ve kept those locked up for your favorite costumer, huh?”
“Of course”, you chuckled, placing the first coffee next to the cookies while a throaty laugh left his lips.
“By now, I got the feeling my wife likes you better than me”, he chuckled while a small laughing snort left your lips.
“Now you should get them in the bag before my colleagues catch me”, you said, nodding towards the cookies before he grabbed them and got them into his pocket.
“Feels like were dealing some kinda shit drugs”, he chuckled before he leaned himself back against the counter and looked at you, “And by the way, that shit has worked all the damn times before too.”

“Nah not quite”, you said, as you saw the machine pouring the last bit of coffee into the second cup before your glance went back up at him.
“Why?”, he asked, his brows puckering before the amused glance in his eyes began to vanish.
“One of the others called me on about it”, you said with a small sigh, remembering the encounter about a week ago.
“Shit, what did you say?”, he asked, his palm scratching over his stubbly cheek as his eyes were fixed on you.
“That you paid extra for them”, you said as a small grin came back up onto your lips while you saw how his eyes lightened up again.
“Good”, he said as you began to squeeze the plastic lid onto the coffee cup  ,”Really don’t wanna get you in trouble for that.”
“You don’t”, you said with a small smile, placing the second cup in front of him as he began to get his wallet out, his long fingers fumbling on the black leather.

“Alright, then here you go”, he said with the mix of a smile and a smirk back as he placed the money in front of you before your eyes wandered in confusion over it.
“That’s too much, way too-”
“The rest’s for you and let me know some shit you like, can be what fucking ever. Just wanna give a bit back”, he said as your lips were still gaping surprised open while a small throaty chuckle rumbled through his chest.
“That’s not necessary-”
“It is”, he said, cutting you quickly off again before he gave you another smile,  “Not only coming from me, also from the chocolate cookie loving woman in hospital and she’s insisting on it too.”
“Alright, then thank you, and tell your wife thanks as well”, you said, the smile widening on your lips before you heard him speaking up as well.
“Gonna do that for fucking sure. Oh and it’s Negan by the way, a bit fucking awkward that we still don’t know each other’s name after all that fucking time”, he chuckled but before you could respond you could hear the ringing of a phone coming out of his pant’s pocket, just before he let out a small huff, grabbed it, looked at the screen before looking back up to you.
“Shit, gotta go. See ya tomorrow, coffee house girl.”

That was one of the last longer chats you had with him, after that, you could tell that his wife’s state was becoming worse with each day.
He didn’t only come more rarely into the coffee house, the sorrow that must’ve eaten him more and more up had become visible with dark rings beneath his eyes, his hair hadn’t been as carefully slicked back as always and the grin that had normally lingered constantly on his lips had only curled slightly up for the bit he talked to you until he grabbed the coffees and cookies and made his way back to the hospital.
Looking back, you couldn’t deny that you had caught yourself worrying more than once.
But then a whole different problem emerged as the first news started to roll in, the first talks with friends about what the hell was going on started just like the thought that it was probably just a temporary problem until you were proved horribly wrong and had to see the madness with your own eyes.

“Can you get more coffee beans for the machine? They’re empty again”, Milly’s voice screeched loudly over the bar, her blonde hair hanging in messy strands into her face, almost symbolic for the stress the full coffee house was giving all of you before she stormed outside to the next costumers that were sitting down at the tables beneath the wide sunshades.
Nodding you made your way into the back of the café until you had reached the small room filled with back ups before you began to search for another bag of coffee beans.
“Oh come on”, you scoffed, your hands seeking unsuccessfully through the shelves until you finally got a glimpse of the brown bag you were searching for.
Scoffing you grabbed its edge, just as a blood freezing scream made you flinch up, gun shots from outside booming into the coffee house as you already found yourself running with the bag in your arms back to the bar, driven by your instincts.
As soon as your feet hit the wooden floor of the café, your eyes widened, your breath stopped and a mess of boiling heat and icy coldness ran through you by the scene that was playing in front of you.
Milly’s face was wrenching in pain as she stumbled back into the coffee house, tears streaming over her face as she held her bleeding arm, a big wound in form of a bite boasting in her flesh, just like you had seen in all the news.
People gathered around her, some staring, some trying to help while you stood in shook there, not able to move as the voices sounded muffled through your head, your eyes moving for a moment from your bleeding and screaming colleague to the outside where the gunshots were still booming.
Police officers in harsh armor shot at a groaning men, their bullets hitting his body over and over again while none of them brought him to the ground.
His eyes were wide open, glassy, more dead than alive, his skin deathly pale, his in Milly’s blood covered mouth gaping open as he stretched his arm out to the men.
“We need to get her to the hospital”, you heard a panicking female voice scream before your eyes saw how the bullets hit the man’s head, teared it apart and seemingly let your heart stop.

That day the coffee house had closed right after Milly got taken to the hospital.
As you had left the café you had still been completely shocked and paralyzed and little had you known that this had been the very last time that you’d seen this place.
You could still see yourself walking hastily down the streets, your breath heavy and your heart pounding against your chest as you passed the hospital, a tiny part of your muddled mind shifting towards Negan and his wife and then back to Milly who must have thought in these moments that the doctors inside could still help her.
Now she was dead and Negan probably too.
Everybody you knew was gone.

Gulping harshly you twisted the cookie with your fingers before letting it slide into the pocket of your jacket.
You had often damned the coffee house, had forced yourself to take the shifts in there but now you couldn’t deny that some of you missed it a little bit, maybe even more the talks with your indeed favorite costumer.

Huffing you tried to keep yourself from falling into more nostalgia as you began to search through the other drawers, actually finding some useful things even though you couldn’t deny that the cookie stayed your personal favorite.

The sun was already beginning to turn into its soft afternoon state as you made your way back out of the house, your backpack filled with some cans you had found inside that now chinked slightly with every step you took.
Warm sun rays danced over your face as you strolled down the abandoned streets, your beloved knife always securely in your hand.

A few days passed and the cookie stayed in your jacket’s pocket.
It was odd how people could get attached to such random things as soon as they carried memories or could be connected to something just in the tiniest way meaningful, how they took those things to grasp onto something and keep themselves going.
And you knew that you definitely weren’t an exception.
The knife, now the cookie, you were no bit better, actually, you were probably even an exhibit A for this phenomena.

Huffing quietly you made your way down an abandoned and narrow backroad through the forest, the blacktop filled with potholes and covered with dried leaves that showed that the influence of humanity was gradually retreating.
Your mind was trying to figure out where you could spend the next night as your glance captured the way the sun began to vanish behind the skyline of the trees while the pretty and colorful sky would be more of a threat until you had found shelter for the night and the blustery darkness.
Pondering you kept walking before you found yourself at the end of the path, now only trees and the underwoods emerging in front of you.
Slowly, you made your way into the woods, grasping your knife a little tighter as you knew that behind every single one of these trees and bushes could wait an undead for you, ready to make you their dinner.

You kept on making your way through the forest, trying your best to avoid stumbling over the several roots and undergrowth that was trying to make it as hard as it could for you.
Your senses were working flat out, your heart pumping a little harder against your chest than before as you suddenly heard the sound of footsteps.
Unsure if your stressed and forcefully attentive mind was making you hallucinate you pressed yourself against the nearest, thick tree as a hide out before trying to find out if a walker or maybe even more were making their way into your direction.
If it was one, you could take it out after those weeks of training without ending up as its snack, but killing a couple of these decomposing and flesh seeking corpses at once?
No, you just weren’t capable to do that yet.
Shoving yourself closer against the hard tree bark you listened closely, your pulse pounding louder in your ears as you could feel yourself tensing up while something got more and more clear to you.
Those weren’t walker steps, they were way too steady and too heavy to resemble the stumbling and scuffing walk of the dead just in any way.
That right there, was a human who was making their way closer towards you, a whole different threat than the dead, but still a threat.
People were becoming more dangerous with everyday they were forced to survive in this world and with each and every moment they had to keep themselves alive no matter what it took.
You had seen what people were becoming to be capable of and who the hell knew what this person somewhere near you was able to do to you if they would find you.
Gulping you pressed yourself some more against the tree, the sudden cracking of a branch beneath your feet letting you flinch up as you pressed your lips on one another, forcing yourself to keep the shocked gasp in while you cursed yourself in your head.
Tightening your grasp on your knife to be able to fight back if it came hard on hard you let out a quiet but shakily breath just before a familiar deep voice let you hold it.

“Any dead fucker there? Come on out, I’m fucking sure you wanna have a taste of this.”
Within seconds your heart pounded even harder against your chest as you tried to find out if your mind was playing tricks on you or not.
The tone, the deepness, the goddamn swearing and the throaty chuckle that sounded as addition to it, all oddly and shockingly familiar.
But that couldn’t be him, right?
That couldn’t be true.
Hell, this was as good as impossible that he out of all still breathing people was walking up to you in the middle of the woods.

You heavily gulped, your heart still pounding with a force against your chest that you felt like anybody around you was able to hear its harsh sound while the rest of your body was reacting to the tension in every possible form.
 The heavy footsteps came closer, closer and closer with every second while your mind was trying to figure out what the hell to do, regardless of if it was him or not.
A small, shaky breath left your lips once last time and then your pounding heart seemed to stop. 

“No!”, you gasped out, your armed hand shooting up as your glance caught a raised baseball bat, in black leather clad arms and then, familiar hazel eyes that darted at you.
Within seconds his narrow and determined glance turned softer and at the same time utterly shocked and confused as it wandered over you as if you were a mirage, daring to disappear the next moment.
“Holy fuck…”, left his lips. his eyes wandering over you again and again, trying to check if you were actually real before you saw the small familiar grin growing back on his face as he gasped softly, ”Coffee house girl.”

So there he was, standing right in front of you.
Still the same grin, the same glance in his eyes, the same tone in his voice. 
Only the leather jacket he must have picked up somewhere after the world had gone to shit was new, just like the baseball bat.
His hair was just stroked back instead of slicked back as usual, revealing some small dark curls that seemed to have their own mind as they peaked slightly out.

And as the first shock was over and both of you began to realize that this was actually real, you didn’t need many words to decide that this encounter would lead to the both of you beginning to  fight your way through the world together, instead of alone.
So as you made your way through the forest and eventually over some lonely roads into the direction of a cabin he had found days ago, you could see that not only his outer appearance was a mix of new and old but also that what laid underneath.
He still had the same humor, swore and cursed just as much as before, made the same colorful remarks, had the same throaty laugh that rumbled through his chest and the same charming and confident attitude and yet there was something new but still slightly familiar as well.
There was a certain sadness lingering somewhere in his eyes when it got quiet for a moment, a sadness that was similar to the one you had seen the last times he had stepped into the café.
And just knowing that he was alone out here was telling you enough to know its reason.

The night’s darkness was already filling the sky up when you found yourself leaning against the wooden wall of the cabin, a flickering bonfire in front of you and the man you had thought you would never see again sitting next to you while he scratched the last bit of the ravioli out of the metallic can in his hands.
You still tried to realize that you weren’t dreaming this all, just like your mind was trying to get it all together and processed.
You knew he wasn’t exactly the man you knew from the coffee house, you knew that he must have gone through certain changes as well, no matter if it was grief or the fact that you had to kill walking corpses to survive.

“Fuck, still can’t really believe it”, you heard him say as he leaned himself against the wood and let out a small chuckle while his glance wandered over to you.
“Me neither”, you said, laying your empty can aside while you caught him looking at you as one of his hands ran over the salt and pepper stubble.
“You’ve never told me your real name”, he finally said, his glance still darting at you as you pulled your legs closer against your chest to keep the coldness of the night from invading your body before you looked into his eyes.
“(Y/N)”
“Well, now that’s some fucking beautiful name”, he said, the grin still on his face as he ran his tongue slowly over the soft skin of his lower lip.
“You’re still gonna stick with ‘coffee house girl’?”, you teased with a small chuckle as he already shook his head with a quiet but throaty laugh.
“Nah, yours is better”, he mumbled before he let out another small but this time disbelieving chuckle,”Fucking dead have to begin walking for me to learn your damn name.”
He ran his palm over his stubbly cheek, his eyes darting for a short moment at the flickering flames of the fire as the talk about his former nickname for you let your mind swing back to the cookie in your pocket.
Now that you had a living part of your past sitting right next to you, you  suddenly began to feel like you were able to let the object that was connected to it go.
“But apropos coffee house, look what I found”, you said, having his attention right back again as your fingers found their way to the metallic zipper, before they slipped into the pocket and laced around the wrapper of the cookie.
“Holy shit”, he said as you showed it to him with a small grin, his eyes widening slightly as he let out a small chuckle ,“Haven’t seen these since…”
Quickly, the grin on his lips faded, the memories he seemed to connect to this simple pastry rising up for a moment before he rallied himself again.

“You still haven’t eaten that fucker?”, he eventually asked with a smirk as he nodded over to the black wrapper in your hand.
“Not till now”, you said, giving him a soft smile as his brows perked interested up, “Wanna have the other half?”
“Now if you ask, then hell yes”, he chuckled, his eyes lightening slightly up as you eventually broke the cookie in half and handed him one of them.
As soon as he bit into the delicious pastry, his eyes closed for a short moment as he seemed to try to urge the positive memories to overwhelm the negative and pain filled ones.
Your teeth sunk into the soft dough of the cookie as well, immediately tasting the bittersweet filling that spread deliciously out in your mouth and took you for a short moment back to the shifts in the coffee house.
“Fuck…still as fan-fucking-tastic as before”, he mumbled, the grin on his lips and the tone in his voice showing that the positive memories had won over the pain.
You could hear his throaty laugh mixing with yours as he made some more raving and almost theatrical remarks about the cookie and desperately tried to get the dark brown crumbs out of his beard stubble.
In these moments you found yourself realizing that you were genuinely laughing for the first time since your mom had died, for the very first time you felt a little lighthearted again and you could tell that he was feeling the same way.

Gradually it got quiet between the both of you again, the flickering sound of the fire and the slight breaking of the wood as the flames began to eat it up sounded through the night before you saw his glance wandering to your knife that laid slightly in walker blood daubed next to you on the ground.

“You’ve killed someone already?”, he eventually asked with a small gulp, his eyes fixed on the blade before they wandered up to you and brought you back to reality.
You weren’t only gonna have those casual chats anymore like before, these talks, talks about death and killing were now daily fare as well and still, his words let a small shiver run through your body as some memories washed up in you.
“No”, you mumbled, a hard gulp running down your throat as you softly shook your head, “I’ve just…I’ve just taken someone down…you know, before-”
Your eyes darted at your fingers that fumbled uneasily on the loose threads of your pants, trying to keep the pictures from conquering your mind as you could still feel his glance darting at you.
“My mom…almost two weeks ago”, you eventually mumbled, letting out a shaky breath before you let yourself look over at him again while only saying those words felt like pure torture for every inch of your body.
“Fuck…shit I’m sorry”, he said, compassion filling his eyes as you forced a small smile in response on your lips, trying to keep the grief that wanted to shoot some tears into your eyes from succeeding.

Your eyes were darting at the flames as you bit your lip while you already felt the tingling in your nose, knowing that your emotions were trying to break out while you already saw your sight becoming slightly blurry.
“Shit…sorry, I didn’t want-”, he began regretful as he seemed to see what this conversation was stirring up in you.
“It’s okay”, you quietly said, fighting your tears back as you allowed yourself to look at him while a heavy breath rumbled through his chest before you heard his deep voice.
“Haven’t killed someone as well but-”, he began, gulping harshly as he ran his palm over his beard stubble ,”I couldn’t take someone down.”
You didn’t need to guess much to know who this ‘someone’ was, the tone in his voice, the glance in his eyes and the way his body tensed told you the truth within seconds.
“I’m sorry…”, you said, your eyes still laying on him as he shifted uncomfortably on the earthy ground.
“Was still in the damn hospital…had some fucking kid do it for me…like some fucking weakly pantywaist”, he said, his voice thick with emotion as you could see him fighting against his grief that began to cloud his eyes.
You were sure that this was the very first time talking about this all, the very first time for him being visibly vulnerable to someone after all these events and you could see that he needed to get this out just like you actually had to.
“Doesn’t make you weak. Almost couldn’t have done it too…”, you said, not only to cheer him a little up but also because you had seen over all these months that he was strong.
Gulping slightly your eyes wandered to your knife, before you let out a small sigh.
“Couldn’t even keep the knife I’ve done it with…”, you mumbled, a shaky breath letting your ribcage slightly erupt while a small bit of you was surprised that you were actually beginning to open yourself.
“That’s hers?”, he carefully asked, his fingers making a soft movement towards the knife as his eyes still laid on you.
“Yeah”, you mumbled, clenching your jaw slightly as your eyes sticked to the knife ,”Last thing I got left.”
“Keeping it like some goddamn treasure”, you mumbled with a small, nervous chuckle while you ran your hand over your pants as he gave you a small uplifting smile.
“No fucking need to shame…I can even top that”, he said, letting out a small chuckle as you could see him becoming a bit more comfortable.
“Hmm?”, you murmured while your brows perked interested up.
“That damn baseball bat?”, he said as he nodded to the dark wooden bat next to him, “I named it after her.”
“Wasn’t even mine from before or some shit…just got it from one of the guys I was in group with before…now that thing gets me through and I just…”, he mumbled, stopping as he gulped and tensed up once again, his glance wandering to the bat as you could only imagine what it meant to him, just knowing how carefully you kept your mom’s knife with yourself.
“You had a group?”, you instead asked, trying to lead this conversation somewhere else as you could already see him nodding, the warm light of the flames enlightening his face as he stared at the fire.
“Yeah…bunch of men, not for long, just enough time to show me how to shoot a fucking gun before…hell before the fucking dead got them all”, he scoffed, his jaw clenching slightly as he still looked into the flames as their movements mirrored in his eyes.
“It’s always like that…”, he muttered with a scoff, his glance trailing off the flames and into the darkness of the night.
“Was”, you added before his glance wandered quickly over at you.
“Now I don’t hope I’ll end up as walker snack”, you said with a small, uplifting grin, trying to loose the both of you up.
You could see the tension washing from his face as it got replaced by a small smirk that soon mixed with a smile that made you feel like he genuinely meant the words that slipped out of his lips.
“You won’t, gonna take care of that”, he said just as he leaned himself some more against the wooden wall.
“Works the other way around to”, you assured with a smile as he gave you a grinning nod and let out a throaty chuckle before let his deep voice sound once again through the night.
“We’re gonna beat this world’s fucking ass”


(the gif isn’t mine/ I found it on google so credit to the original owner)
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