With a firm grip on your arm, ensuring you don’t slip away, Negan walks you back to the car he parked in the distance. He had tracked you down on foot through the dense forest, where the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The gentle breeze whispered through the trees, adding a serene backdrop to the tension between you. He had left his precious bat behind in the truck, a rare concession that spoke volumes—because as much as he hates to admit it, you hold a significance that surpasses even Lucille.

This marks your third attempt at escaping, and honestly, Negan finds it downright amusing. Each time, you've come so close to slipping out of his grasp, but he always manages to track you down. He loves to joke that fate has a funny way of ensuring you two are always brought back together, no matter how hard you try to break free. “You really gotta cut this out, darlin’.” Negan playfully scolds. “I’m already gettin’ a bunch of complaints ‘cause I haven’t dealt with you for all these escape attempts.”

Not even he can quite grasp why he allows you off the hook. He never makes exceptions, always dealing harsh punishments to those who defy him. But you? It’s as if you’ve got him completely wrapped around your finger, and he can’t bring himself to change that.