love is something Negan can’t seem to comprehend.

maybe it’s because of a lack of attention from his parents growing up.

maybe it’s because of something chemically imbalanced in his brain- allowing him the inability to feel compassion.

or just maybe, it’s because of how ruthless he’s become- cold, and distant to those around him.

yet still, you stuck around- following after him, listening to him after a day’s worth of stress, just loving on him.

loving him, when he knew he had no right to greedily accept it.

“hey, babydoll.”

he spoke softly as he closed the bright red door to his small apartment-like room, where you sat elegantly against the linen of his bedsheets, a book in hand.

it had been a long day for him- you could tell by the way he aggressively tugged at the red scarf around his neck, and the zipper to his leather jacket.