RHIANNON

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LUCILLE invited Rhiannon over for a girl's night while Negan was playing poker with some friends.

Rhiannon wasn't entirely sure what to expect but four glasses of wine from an expensive bottle later, her cheeks were flushed and her words slurring.

Before Negan and Lucille, she'd never touched a sip of alcohol. Now, it seemed to go hand-in-hand with their company.

"Okay, truth or dare," Lucille turned to face Rhiannon, swirling her wine in the glass.

It felt so childish to play games like these with a woman twice her age. But something about their shared giggles and Lucille's easy smile made Rhiannon's heart race, and she felt more grown and alive than she'd ever felt before.

"Um, truth?"

Lucille smiled softly. "Okay," she hummed in thought for a moment, leaning against the sofa cushion, her free hand trailing across Rhiannon's, which was spread out against the back. "What's your biggest fear?"

Rhiannon thought for a moment. The obvious answer was silly. She feared spiders and chameleons and spotted frogs. She feared poison ivy and the failing school.

But something in her gut tugged at her as Lucille watched her with an open, interested expression.

Her heart constricted and her voice caught before she could reply. Losing Lucille, she realized. And Negan. Losing the two people who in a matter of weeks had become more integral to her than her own family.

Rhiannon cleared her throat, realizing she'd taken too long to answer. "Frogs," she settled on, taking a sip of her wine. "They, uh...they creep me out."

"Frogs?" Lucille asked with an amused smile. "You're scared of frogs, baby?" She laughed, and the sound sent a fluttering feeling through Rhiannon's stomach. "That's cute. Everything I learn about you is cute."

Rhiannon choked a bit on her wine, coughing and spluttering out. Lucille made a sympathetic noise and pat her back softly.

"Thanks," Rhiannon nodded through a cough, clearing her throat to quench her nerves. "For — for the compliment, too."

"Of course," Lucille nodded, hand still gently running circles over Rhiannon's back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Rhiannon nodded, looking at Lucille again. Her breath hitched at the proximity. They were so close that Rhiannon could see every perfect feature of Lucille's face. Her impeccable skin, a soft splash of freckles on her left cheek, a beauty mark on her right. Her eyes had little golden flecks, like the sun itself had deemed her worthy.

Lucille Smith was an angel and Rhiannon knew that simply existing in her presence would guarantee a ticket to heaven.

"And if I go back and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."

The passage was about God, she knew this. John 14:2 spoke of their Father and his many rooms open for his people.

That a key to open the door was Heaven.

But she thought it wrong in that moment, staring at the woman before her. Her father had it wrong, men had it wrong.

Heaven wasn't a place, an existence for one to find after years of devotion to rules and regulations and policies. It was a person, and it was the person in front of her.

This beautiful, ethereal woman carved from the heart of God himself, must be the last true piece of divinity on the Earth.

"Are you alright?" Lucille asked softly.

Her breath was warm and tasted of wine and the temptation pulled at Rhiannon.

There had never been any quarrels in her church about romanticism between two women before. She'd never felt unsafe in experimenting — if only in dreams, for she was far too good to act upon any urges — but the expectation of her father's faith was there.

Surely he'd make an exception for a woman like Lucille? Surely, looking at the woman in the manner in which Rhiannon was privileged enough to, he'd understand the beating of her heart in her ribcage.

The devil has tempted her all her life and Rhiannon dutifully resisted.

But she knew now, why, Eve had bit from the forbidden fruit. It was in Lucille's sun-kissed gaze and wine-stained lips.

Rhiannon's tongue darted between her lips, trying to quench the thirst, the insatiable hunger and pulling at her naval that threatened to consume her. Threatened to encourage a decision which should not be made.

"Rhiannon?" Lucille breathed out, inching closer. Her lips grazed Rhiannon's and she felt her heart stop, her breath halting, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Bless me heavenly Father, forgive my erring ways."

And then Rhiannon took a leap of faith, unto what — she wasn't entirely sure, because her religion was quickly becoming overshadowed by the love developing for the woman before her — and smashed her lips against Lucille's.

Lucille gasped in a moment of surprise and then pulled Rhiannon closer with her free hand, cupping her cheek. Her slender fingers curled into Rhiannon's hair and her tongue parted Rhiannon's lips without struggle.

A gasp left her at the deepening of the kiss and she heard a small thump from the ground. Lucille had dropped her glass, wine splattering on the white carpet, but neither of them made a move to care.

Lucille pulled Rhiannon closer, her now free hand circling Rhiannon's waist. She tasted of the wine they'd been drinking, and of faint cigarette smoke.

Rhiannon almost laughed because she knew Lucille said Negan used to smoke, but she realized Lucille most likely did.

Lucille's faint lip gloss smeared across Rhiannon's mouth and she found herself wishing to be covered in it. Wishing she could taste every inch of Lucille to see if the same faint strawberry would linger on her tongue.

Her nose clashed with Lucille's and Rhiannon sucked gently on her tongue as it explored her mouth.

She'd only kissed one person before. A boy in seventh grade who'd slobbered over her behind a bleacher when they'd skipped out on gym class and pretended to be sick.

She could remember how gross she felt after, how unappealing all forms of romanticism seemed to her. A touch would make her cringe and the thought of someone's tongue against hers made her ill.

But Lucille was nothing like that boy whose name Rhiannon could no longer recall. Kissing Lucille, their teeth's crashing, tongues trailing over one another, soft gasps leaving, hands roaming over shoulders and backs, tangling in hair — it felt like breathing.

Surely, surely, this was Heaven.

Lucille was an angel and kissing her, breathing her in and holding her close was the closest to paradise as she'd ever be.

"If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there."

Psalm 139:8 was written for the woman now wrapped in Rhiannon's arms, their breaths as one, her touch trailing under her shirt.

Heaven was not a place.

It was a person.

And her sacred truth, her deepest fear; was that losing Lucille would be falling from Grace and tasting only Hell.

—

NEGAN

Lucille had fucking won.

They hadn't fucked, so he supposed the competition was technically still in swing but he was fucking leagues behind her.

It wasn't fucking fair either because he was fucking hot, he fucking knew that. It wasn't a question of if Rhiannon wanted to fuck him as opposed to when — but he wasn't Lucille.

He could understand Rhiannon's hesitance to fuck him. He was a big fucking dude who made a pretty little girl like that fucking nervous, but fuck, he was trying.

He was being fucking polite and making her laugh and comforting her and it wasn't fucking enough because Lucille simply fucking existed and was everything a person could want.

He'd know. He fucking married her for the same reason.

Running a hand through his hair, he pushed his glasses up his nose and took a sip of whiskey. It was fucking shit whiskey, from the cheapest rack and he prayed to fucking God that one day he'd make enough to buy the real shit.

Fuck, he'd love to take Rhiannon drinking. For real. She was almost twenty-one but at the rate Lucille was going at, the competition would be long over.

His heart sank at the thought and he stared down at the glass.

Fuck.

They were almost done with Rhiannon. Was that a good fucking thing to do?

Fuck, no.

They were assholes, terrible, shitty, horrible fucking people for using a perfect little thing like that for a fucking competition like she was something to be won.

Like a fucking prize.

And she was a prize, but she wasn't something to toss away with the wrapping paper once it was opened. She was fucking beautiful and kind and intelligent.

And fuck if he didn't want to pursue her as more than just a sexual fucking —

No.

He'd promised Lucille.

He took another shot.

At the time, it was just a game to him. A need he had to fulfill, an urge to satiate and he'd be finished, he'd be fucking fine and dandy.

But something about Rhiannon has fucking twisted into his heart, dug deep inside him in the same place only fucking Lucille existed and carved her name inside.

It made him want to throw up.

Negan took another shot.

Fuck.

He wanted that girl, he wanted her fucking bad. He wanted to watch Lucille and Rhiannon, he wanted to fuck one of them as they fucked each other. He wanted to take them on dates, his pretty girls.

He'd never been into polygamy. Fuck no. He liked his women as that — his.

But this was fucking different because Lucille was the love of his life. No fucking doubt about it. Bit Rhiannon was something sweet and perfect and good.

The first good fucking thing either of them had ever really held in their hands.

How could Lucille be okay just tossing her out after? How could they just ignore her like she wasn't their sweet-as-fucking-pie neighbor?

He couldn't do that to her.

He wouldn't fucking do that to her.

"You okay?"

Negan glanced up, seeing Lucille, and she placed a hand on his back.

He pictured it in Rhiannon's perfect curls. Pictured Lucille's manicured nails trailing down her smooth skin, fleshing out indents that belonged to her and her alone.

Negan's grip on the glass tightened.

"Yeah," he replied hoarsely. "I'm fine."

He fucking lied.

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Okay hopefully the religious part is okay??? I'm not personally religious and wasn't raised religious but it's a pretty big portion of who Rhiannon is and while her church is accepting of LGBTQ+, her dad wasn't okay with HIS daughter identifying as such, so it's been a struggle she's had to put down.
but ofc Lucille kissed Rhia first be so fr they're meant to be. Poor Negan needs to get some and I promise he will soon hahahaha