I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

Working for points

Blake awoke early the next morning, it taking a her a few moments to remember the events of the previous day.

But of course, they soon came rushing back to her, jabbing at her senses like a knife to the stomach.

Just the way Negan had looked at her...with pure hatred and anger in his eyes...that had hurt more than Blake could even say.

But what had hurt more had been his words. Had Negan really supposed that she and Steve had slept with one another, back in Alexandria? Did he really think that little of her?

She had told him at the time, when Negan had walked in on Steve trying to kiss her in that kitchen, that there had been nothing to worry about...so why now had he changed his mind and began not to trust her? After all they had been through together?

The pair had said a lot of hurtful things to one other over this past week but it was the lack of trust that pained her the most...

...but then perhaps Negan was merely hurting Blake in retaliation for all the things she had accused him of....for not caring...for only being concerned with himself.

Blake had given a sigh, rubbing her face with her hand now...praying she wouldnn't start to cry again.

Last night she had stood in the garden alone, sobbing, long after the sky above her had grown dark, and the lots surrounding the Sanctuary had emptied completely.

She had gone inside and not bothered grabbing anything to eat, not feeling up to it right now and so had gone straight to her room collapsing onto her bed, with puffy eyes and red, tear-streaked, cheeks.

But this morning Blake knew she needed to pull herself together. There were lots to be getting on with in the garden and she would try and use that as a good distraction. For what else did she have right now...?

She had contemplated leaving. But where would she go? She had cut herself off from Rick and the people back at Alexandria....aligned herself with the Saviours who, of course, had enemies everywhere.

She was screwed. So she would stay here...for as long as she could bare at least...

Although at the rate she was currently going, that wouldn't be long.

But Blake, shook herself now. For this wasn't the time to start feeling sorry for herself. She still had it good here...with three meals a day...running water....whatever supplies she needed...

...she of course knew that life could be a lot worse out there on the road all alone.

And so, lifting herself up and out of bed, the caramel-blonde woman, grabbing towel and a bottle of shampoo she had taken from the marketplace downstairs, padded out into the hallway, heading to the bathrooms.

Less than thirty minutes later, with stomach rumbling, Blake walked into the large canteen, damp hair tied up in a loose knot on top of her head, with a pair of indigo jeans on and a white blouse.

She gazed about now, spotting Arat, Danny and a couple of other Saviours chatting in the corner, but no Negan today, which was a relief. For Blake was not yet ready to face the dark-haired Saviour again. Not after what had been said between them last night.

The place was fairly busy today with most of the Sanctuary's residents frequenting here at this time of the morning to pick up whatever sustenance their points could afford them, before beginning the working day.

Even Dr Carson could be seen on the far side of the large hall sat alone at a table eating a plate of waffles with a book spread out on the scrubbed wooden table before him.