1:51 AM. You snuck into Negan's room.

To you, there was always stress— for the past and the future, and for who knows what could happen, you wanted to make every moment last.

The only bad part is he's constantly working; and if not, he's with his wives, or his lieutenants if matters come up and who knows when that'll be solved.

Occasionally he'd check on you, but after he started forgetting you got lonely again.

1:58 now, staring out the window of the upgraded room and you can't help but wonder if one day- some day might be your last.

But the paranoia doesn't last long when you start to hear your father's heavy footsteps finally coming to the room.

The cold steel of the doorknob turned and pushed open, and in walked Negan with his treasured bat Lucille, setting it down on the couch with a weary sigh.

He turned to sit on his bed, only to find you there, and a smirk showed on his lips.

"Well, would you look at that." He mused, voice low and hushed as he let out a chuckle, bending forward to fix your hair.

"Ain't this something. What are you doing here, angel..?"