A/N: Here is a little one shot I submitted for a writing challenge for richonnejustdesserts last month. The challenge was to focus on 'Domestic and In love Richonne.' Enjoy!
They had never had a lazy morning. Not once since becoming a couple three weeks earlier. Michonne ruminated on this as she looked down on a sleeping Rick, her head propped up on her hand and a smile on her face.
Judith was an early riser and her cries were their alarm clock at dawn every day. Then shortly after rising, the demands of running their community took over and kept them occupied for the rest of the day.
Except today. Today they had their lazy morning. Maggie had requested to keep Judith overnight as a practice run for her own baby, due in about six months. Carl volunteered to accompany Judith as a back- up babysitter and Michonne had to wonder if he did it to give her and Rick some needed privacy.
So as the morning sun lit the bedroom they now shared, Michonne enjoyed her view. She'd never noticed now long Rick's eyelashes were or how much gray was starting to pepper the stubble he maintained. She loved the gray even as she resented how it made him more dignified while the same color in her own hair would do nothing but age her. With a besotted sigh, Michonne raised her other hand to hover over the scar slashing across his cheekbone, aching to trace it, caress it.
The scars gave him a dashing air, like knights of old...
"Like what you see?" Rick's voice, rough from sleep, interrupted her thoughts and Michonne lifted her gaze to find his piercing blue eyes smiling up at her, his head still nestled into the pillow.
Lowering her hand to cup his jaw and run her thumb across his full bottom lip, Michonne relaxed the arm propping her head up so she was level with Rick.
"I love what I see. Good morning."
Rick rolled onto his side and threw his leg over Michonne's, his hand wrapping around her lithe waist to pull her closer.
"Good morning, Beautiful," Rick whispered against her full lips as he did what he wanted to since the moment he sensed Michonne was awake and watching him. He was so in tune with her, he knew the moment she woke up because her breathing changed and she let out a quiet sigh.
He loved the little noises Michonne made as he kissed her, the whispers, the soft moans. Sounds that only he was privy to. That she allowed only him to hear. The bed they shared was their haven and he counted down the minutes each day until he could once again share it with her and dreaded each morning when they went their separate ways.
But not today. Today, they could lounge in bed for hours longer, thanks to the generosity of their friends and the downpour pelting the windows, delaying their daily routine even further.
Breaking off their kiss with a slow tug on Michonne's bottom lip, the lip that drove him to distraction, Rick once again rested his head on the pillow, content to take his time this morning and enjoy his view.
Heart racing from their morning kiss, Michonne restrained herself from raising up over Rick and having her way with him. She knew he'd love it too. He always loved it when she took the lead on their lovemaking. But she wanted this morning to be different. She wanted to enjoy every second of the quiet and the solitude that were so rare in their lives.
Resting her head against her pillow, her face only a couple inches from Rick, she returned her hand to where it was before his greeting had distracted her.
"Your scars tell a story you know." Words softly whispered as she lightly traced the scar under his eye, memories passing through her.
"They do, do they? And what do they say?" Rick whispered back, content to indulge Michonne's musings as long as she continued to touch him and stay in bed.
"The scar under your eye..." a tender brush of her fingertip, "and this one across your cheek..." a lingering kiss that shot heat right through Rick and caused his hand to squeeze Michonne's hip in reflex, "they tell of a time your grief and losses made you lose your way."
Rick scoffed at the rose colored tint to her memory. "Or of a time I was incredibly stupid."
Michonne moved her finger from his scar and placed it across his lips, smiling when Rick tilted his face to give the finger a love bite.
"Shhh...this is my story. What I see when I look at your scars."
Rick reclined on his back, ready to be entertained by this beautiful woman who had taken residence in his weary heart and breathed life back into it.
"Okay, what does this scar tell you?" Rick tilted his chin toward the scar not far from his heart. The scar caused by a bullet that nearly ended him not two years prior. Before the world ended as they knew it and before the dead walked the earth with an eternal need to feed.
Michonne took her time staring at the small puckered scar, no bigger than a nickel, and staved off the feelings of sadness, of grief at the thought of what could have happened if miracles didn't exist. Moving her hand to the scar, she caressed it with her thumb, exploring the texture, the raised skin that was smoother than the rest of his chest.
"Oh this one tells a story indeed. Of a man who fell in the line of duty. A man trying to uphold the law, trying to protect and serve. It also speaks to his strength and his will to live. He could have died ten times over that day and the days that followed. But he survived against logic and science and my hope beyond hope is that his will to live carries him through for many, many more years to come."
Oh this woman. How did he deserve her? Rick cupped her face and drew his thumb to wipe the lone tear that crept out from the corner of her eye. When she raised her gaze to his, he gave her a loving smile.
"I have everything to live for now. Everything. It's going to take a hellava lot more than a bullet to take me from you, do you hear me?" Rick ended on a raspy whisper, his emotions getting the better of him.
Michonne nodded with a watery smile and tilted her head to pepper his scar with teasing kisses, needing to lighten the mood. When she lifted her head, she surveyed Rick's torso with mock officiousness, happy to continue the game.
"Now, let's see, what else do we have here? I know there are a couple more..." She grinned and raised herself on her elbow as she pretended to make a grand discovery. "Ah yes! How can I forget that one! Mmhmmm...Oh yes indeed."
Rick's brows lowered as Michonne shook her head in dismay while viewing the scar left by Morgan's knife during their reunion a year earlier. "Oh yes indeed, what? What's wrong with that one?"
"Well that one tells a story about a man who allowed his personal feelings to force his guard down, lose his edge and he got beat." This insulting proclamation was said through a mischievous grin and Rick took the bait.
Rising up on his elbow, he tilted his face down to view the scar on his shoulder and pointed at it with a defensive jab of his finger.
"This tells a story of a man with compassion who was trying to help a friend. I wasn't thinking that he would..."
Michonne fell back onto her pillow, throwing her hands up in victory, "That's right! You didn't think," Another grin shot Rick's way. "And you got taken."
Rick fell onto his back with a defeated groan and after a moment turned his head to gaze at Michonne with a twinkle in his eye. "You're forgetting one."
Michonne let a slow sexy smile curve her lips as she once again raised herself up to hover over Rick. Casting a lingering gaze down his torso, she slowly drew the sheet down, revealing his naked hip, further down over his jutting length that raised her brow and then finally stopping when the scar on his thigh was beneath her gaze.
Tracing her finger around and then over the small wound, Michonne maneuvered her body down the mattress so her face was directly over the scar, looking up at a very flushed Rick who seemed to have a hard time catching his breath.
Lowering her voice to the soft tone she knew drove him crazy, Michonne wove her tale, making certain her warm breath blew directly on the area under discussion.
"This one tells the story about a leader who fought evil, who tried to protect his family, his friends and his home. A leader who offered peace but was betrayed by a madman's will to murder and pillage. This one is a warrior's scar and I don't believe it will be the last of its kind." Now she lowered her head to press an open mouth kiss on it, allowing her tongue to just peak through, reveling in the power Rick's answering moan gave her. Looking up from her position on his thigh, his hardened length mere inches from her mouth, Michonne stared into Rick's eyes, loving that they were glazed over with lust.
"No, it won't be the last because this man will always fight for his. Will always protect..."
Rick reared up from his reclining position, needing to take control of the conversation or their morning would be over before it got started. Michonne's voice alone caused the blood to leave his brain and go right to his cock and he wasn't ready to appease it quite yet but he was close...too close.
Pressing Michonne's shoulders down onto the mattress, Rick scooted down so he could hover over her and quiet her with an open mouthed kiss that gave his tongue the refuge it sought out on a constant basis these days.
Ah yes...this was home. This was peace and warmth. He could spend the entire day and the next and the one after that kissing this woman. Molding her lush lips to his own, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and reminding her that she was his.
Just as he was hers. She gave as good as she received and for several long, simmering moments, their mouths moved together, explored each other until they were both flushed and panting, their legs tangled together.
Lifting his head, Rick looked down at Michonne, taking in her lips swollen from their kisses, her gaze burning into his through half closed lids and her chest heaving with rapid breaths.
So much passion. So much yet to explore, to learn about...
Reminded of their game, Rick moved his gaze from Michonne's face to her shoulder and then sent her a slow grin to go with the gleam in his eye.
"My turn now."
A raised brow. "Oh really? Do tell. This should be good."
"What? You don't think a good ol' boy like me can weave a tale?"
Michonne grinned, "Oh you can weave a tale alright. Now whether or not it's any good..."
A chuckle escaped Rick before he could squelch it but he recovered with a mock scowl as he traced the scar on Michonne's shoulder, left by a man's knife during the time on her lone road in the beginning. Michonne had told him the story during their travels together after the prison fell.
"Of course it will be good. One just has to listen and learn," This said with a pointed look that caused Michonne to mime locking her lips up and throwing away the key.
Rick placed a lingering kiss on the scar and then laid his cheek against Michonne's shoulder as he turned toward her, their faces only inches apart. Keeping his voice low, Rick held Michonne's gaze, not wanting to miss any of her reaction.
"This one tells of a woman unlike any other. A mother who had suffered the greatest loss possible. A woman who could have allowed her grief to consume her. Who could have taken the easier path and allowed her light to be snuffed out," Rick paused to soothe a teary Michonne with a gentle, loving smile.
"But this woman is a fighter. This woman allowed her loss, her grief, her heartbreak to give her the will to fight and be strong and to live to see all the days her son wasn't allowed to see. To watch the sunrises and breathe the fresh air and survive. Survive so her son's passing wasn't in vain. This woman..." another loving kiss on her shoulder, "this incredible, brave, brilliant woman learned to fight, learned to adapt." Now Rick raised himself up to hover once again over Michonne. To smile down on her.
"And, yes, she received this injury but, at the end of that day, she continued to walk her path while her foe took his last breath on the side of a deserted road. Now that's a story I will never get tired of telling."
Michonne smiled and shook her head at Rick's embellishments, even while she was touched by the words, "You make a girl blush."
Rick brows rose as he gripped the top of the sheet covering Michonne, "Speaking of blushing, there's one more story to tell, I believe." As Michonne covered her face with an embarrassed shriek, Rick stripped away the sheet, leaving her bare to his lascivious gaze. Sliding his hand down her flat stomach, over her hip and down to her thigh, he caressed the puckered scar left by a bullet a year earlier.
Memories ran through his head like a movie. Bright sunlight causing him to squint as he walked out of the darkness, across a prison courtyard while viewing what he was certain was a mirage, a hallucination brought upon by his overwhelming grief.
A woman limping to stand amongst walkers. Carrying formula for his newborn daughter.
Not a hallucination, not a mirage.
His salvation.
If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget that day. Would forever be grateful for the circumstances that had brought her to him.
Raising his gaze from the scar to the eyes of the woman who had healed his heart, Rick smiled as he cupped her face and caressed her mouth with his thumb.
"This one has the greatest story of all because it brought you into my life. And every time I look at that scar, I see a beginning, I see hope and I see a future that was born that day."
Rick lowered his mouth to Michonne's and whispered against her lips.
"I love you Michonne."
Michonne sank her fingers into Rick's tangled curls as she sighed against his mouth before moving her lips against his in a kiss filled with all the feelings in her heart.
Finally pulling his head away from hers, Michonne smiled at the man fate had gifted her after taking everything away. This man who had helped her heal from her past and was now her present and future.
"I love you too."
And with that, the two battle scarred warriors spent the rest of their lazy morning and a good portion of their afternoon doing a lot less talking and a lot more showing just how much they loved each other.