DO IT

She was extremely beautiful with her fierce smile, the machete in her hands and the blood on her skin. The rain would erase that blood but the look in her face wouldn't change. The bodies at her feet were testimony of her strength.

"So?" she challenged with her chin up and fire in her eyes. She always challenged him and his bullshit, and he loved her because of that

"What" he challenged in response, unable to accept that she had been right from the start.

He wanted to erase that damn smile of her face because he wanted to see that smile all the time, every day for the rest of his life.

She was a warrior, her black hair was a mess of dirt and knots, she was covered in dust, mud, blood and walked crap from her little feet to the top of her head, and yet she had never been more beautiful for him. He wanted to do so many things with her, he wanted to show her she was wrong, he wanted to see that little smile in the corner of his mouth that formed every time she was right, he wanted to spin in his heels and get away as quickly as he could, and he wanted to

travel the distance that separated them, take her in his arms and kiss her senseless

It was confusing, he hardly ever felt that way, full of butterflies in his stomach and lust. He always thought that romance was for pussies because Merle and their father told him so with punches and belts. He always thought that sex was only a way to get a free room in the road, a drink in a bar and his brother out of his back, but he hardly ever wanted sex. He was weird and he knew it, but he was weird about so many things that it never bothered him, after all he never had time or money for therapy and bullshit

But from time to time someone would show up that would make him feel...

Like her, tiny ferocious Latin woman with her black hair and her fiery smile that always challenged him with a smile and a sarcasm.

She shaked her head and started to clean her machete with her shirt while swearing in Spanish. He was pretty sure she was calling him names and "cabrón" wasn't a good one. But he didn't care as his eyes focused in the tiny scratch of skin that showed up when she raised her tiny shirt. It taunted him with ideas and images he wasn't ready to have, and he would swear that Merlé was whispering in her ear, do it.

"We have to move" she reminded him, but he didn't want to move, he wanted to stay there, in the middle of nowhere, in a place where the war had already happened and they didn't have to kill or to be killed anymore. He craved the death of all the Saviors in the world, and he knew she did too, but he wanted something different for her, he needed her to be safe, she had to be safe, because if she weren't he would keep doing stupid things like punching menacing psychopaths who ordered him to stay still

The voice in his head repeated it again and again, do it, do it, do it, do it...

"What are you looking at?" she asked impatient, but maybe, just maybe there was a hint of flirting there, he couldn't know, never was too good with that, never was too interested on that-with her hands on her hips and those challenging dark eyes, she seemed to echo the imaginary voice in his head do it

"What are you waiting for?" she questioned and it seemed like the prologue to the voices in his head yelling do it, do it, do it

And suddenly all the excuses he had been using since the first day he realized she was there disappeared. Why couldn't he do it? Why couldn't he kiss her, and bite her, and touch her as he wanted to touch her. Maybe she wouldn't want him, that was always his first fear when it came to her, but Merle voice was too strong, mocking him, and she was looking at him with that knowing look in her eyes...

And suddenly she was there, grabbing him and kissing him. It was strong, passionate and furious as everything she did. Her hands roamed his body and he surrounded

In the end, it was she who did it