#vulgre

     it’s   over   now.      ALL   OF   IT.      whisperers   are   dead,   the   ENTIRE   herd   is   dead   too.      so   much   destruction   left   in   the   aftermath,   and   she   can’t   help   but   feel   a   lot   of   it   is   HER   FAULT.      has   a   feeling   that   OTHERS   think   that   too.      it’s   not   hard   to   miss   the   stares,   or   the   way   most   AVOID   HER   LIKE   THE   PLAGUE.      but   there   is   someone   else   who   SHARES   that   kind   of   burden.      the   one   that   she   SET   FREE.      they   hate   him   too,   arguably   worse   than   her.      AT   LEAST   she   has   SOME   family   who   love   her.      daryl,   lydia,   jerry…      but   negan?      he   has   NO   ONE.      well…      maybe   he   could   have   ONE.

he’s  done  stupid  things  in  the  pursuit  of  feeling  alive  before.      kissed  boys  that  ran  and  told  their  daddies,    that  treated  him  like  he  was  subpar  after.      had  a  brief  dip  in  deliquency  when  he  started  running  with  the  kids  outside  of  his  neighborhood,    which  his  mother  swiftly  put  an  end  to.      and  now,    here,    at  the  end  of  the  world,    aldo  feels  terrifyingly  numb.      never  mind  he  and  negan,    the  fearless  leader  of  the  less  than  stellar  settlement  he’s  found  himself  in,    are  the  last  of  their  scouting  party  after  a  run  -  in  with  a  horde.      he  lays  there,    on  the  floor  of  the  bus  they’re  bunkered  down  in,    staring  up  at  the  ceiling  and  feeling  like  he’s  dead.      the  slightest  movement  of  his  eyes  brings  the  other  man’s  dangling  hand  into  view.      and  he  doesn’t  know  what  compels  him  to  shift  just  enough  to  grace  his  middle  finger  with  his  lips.      to  lick  right  after.      maybe  the  fact  that  whether  he  gets  the  shit  beaten  out  of  him  or  something  else,    at  least  he’ll  be  feeling.