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It was the almost midnight when Beth’s doorbell rang. Both sisters looked at each other, shrugging in unison, not knowing who it could be at that time of the day.
When it rang again—more urgently than before—Maggie got up and pressed the button for the intercom.
“Yes?”
“Georgia?”
“Negan? What, how—”
“I did something stupid. Can you let me in?”
Maggie turns her head to look at her sister, who nodded, already pressing the button to open the door, before speaking again.
“Third floor, second door on the right.”
“Gotcha.”
It doesn’t take Negan long before he stands in front of her, clearly in distress, his beanie wrung between his hands—while she stood in front of him in nothing but her flannel pajamas.
“Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
His voice is low, broken. Whatever he did, it weighted heavily on his conscious.
“Yes, come on. Goodnight, Beth, get some sleep.”
Her little sister nods as she curiously watches them, as Maggie leads Negan into Beth’s guest room and closes the door. She watches him as he removes his coat and gloves, before he sits down on the edge of the bed.
“I killed him.”
Maggie doesn’t need to ask who exactly he is talking about.
Alan.
He killed Alan. The guy she punched in the face for him.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
He chuckles as he scratches his bread, “Probably.”
“Why? I thought… I thought when I left you, you would just go home.” Frustrated, Maggie rakes her fingers through her hair. “Goddamn it, Negan.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie. I know we just met but I didn’t know who else to go to. You’re the first person I’ve met who stuck around once learning of what I did. Everyone else left at some point.”
With a heavy sigh she sits next to him, their shoulders touching.
“I can’t believe am doing this, but you’re staying the night. Walk me through it. You’re not going to prison.”
So he tells her how he hung up his phone call with Joshua to kill Alan, before he checked the yellow pages for her sister’s address.
“Okay… we can work with that.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get fucking used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She slaps his thigh with a chuckle, before she orders him to get rid of his jeans and shirt before he is allowed to join her in bed. When he raises his eyebrow questioning, Maggie simply tells him that her sisters couch isn’t comfortable enough and should authorities ask where he’d been, it would be a lot more convincing if he slept in the same bed as her.
“Are you implying I was right at the fortunes teller and we will get the hanky-panky on?”
Negan wiggles his eyebrows at her, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips.
“I was actually hoping you’d kiss me, earlier… in the alley.“ Maggie confesses, as she tucks at the skin of her fingers, her neck and cheeks heating up, slowly taking up the shade of a soft red hue.
“Were you?”
“Yeah… maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have killed him.”
„Probably,“ Negan hums, then he gets up to rid himself of his clothes, only staying in his boxers and tank top.
Maggie audibly gulps. She noticed he was handsome, but that he also had a six-pack at his age?
“See something you like?” Negan teases as he lies down on the bed she was still sitting on, putting his arm behind his head, his eyes shining with mirth.
Fuck him.
Fuck him and his handsome face and his stupid six-pack.
She squeezes her legs together as a familiar pulse gets set off in her core.
Yeah, fuck him.
“Haven’t decided yet.” Maggie rasps out, trying not to give away how he just made her all hot and bothered and failing miserably.
“If you say so, Margaret.”
“Whatever. Go to sleep, grandpa.”
Negan snorts, before he scoots under the covers, facing her.
Maggie lifts the blanket and lies down next to him. She was way too close to him for her own comfort, her heart beating out of her chest. She shouldn’t want to kiss him right now.
He killed someone and yet, here she was, still intrigued by him. Still having the desire to see what he can do for and to her.
“Maggie,” his hand gently strokes over her cheek, before his fingers slide into her hair, cupping the back of her head and pulling her closer, their lips a single breath apart.
His hazel eyes search hers, seeking permission to go further to seal his lips on hers.
“Negan,” she retorts breathlessly, before she surges forward, connecting their lips.
Her hand cups his cheek, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss by sneaking his tongue past her open lips as he gently rolls her on her back, his knee nudging between her legs, making her moan into his mouth as her core gets the friction she has been seeking.
“Fuck, Georgia,” he groans into her mouth, pressing his lips to hers once more, before he lifts himself up and looks at her. Disheveled hair, pink and slightly swollen lips, a soft tint to her cheeks, pupils blown. “You’re absolutely fucking beautiful.”
Not knowing what to reply, Maggie pulls him down for another heart stopping kiss.
“We should sleep.”
“We should.”
He agrees and with a smile he kisses her forehead, then lies down next to her. Negan pulls her into his chest, arm sneaking around her waist, his fingers splayed out on her lower belly, as her head comes to rest on his bicep, a big smile on her face.
“Goodnight, Georgia.”
“Goodnight, Negan.”