Michonne can feel Andrea pulling away.
The first night at Woodbury, Andrea is needy. As Michonne lies awake, unable to sleep in these walls, unable to sleep knowing that she is nearly defenseless and guarded like a prisoner. This is the first night in what feels like an eternity that she cannot hear her walkers pulling at their chains docilely. That she doesn't have her sword at her side. She could never sleep much when she was on the move anyways, but at least she knew what to expect with the walkers. With people? All Michonne knew was that, give the choice, people would always be selfish and unpredictable.
Andrea apparently doesn't know that, though. She snuggles up close to Michonne, despite the other woman's warnings about how people might be watching them, and Michonne doesn't want to appear weak or emotional for these men. Andrea tried to comply, but being heavily medicated and, although she was trying not to show it, scared, she kept maneuvering herself to stand as close to Michonne as possible. Now, in sleep, she can't seem to rest still if her body isn't pressed up against the other woman's. Michonne had tried to push Andrea away at first, but Michonne couldn't fight with months and months of memories of time spent with the blonde woman and built up instincts that had every nerve in Michonne's body fighting to protect Andrea, to keep her close, to keep her safe. So, as the night wears on, Michonne settles into a guard, and allows Andrea to lay her upper body on Michonne's lap. Still, despite their physical closeness, Michonne has a nagging fear at the back of her mind that Andrea wants to stay here. Something about the look on the other woman's face when she had seen the shower, the bed, the houses… and the man who lead them to all those comforts. Michonne isn't sure what will happen, but she feels herself losing Andrea.
The second day at Woodbury, Andrea won't even walk next to Michonne. To Michonne, Andrea's actions feel very juvenile, like the other woman didn't want to be seen with someone like Michonne. Instead, Andrea obviously wants to play her role of independent female lawyer for these smiling, well-dressed, and clean people. Andrea wants them to like her, just like she had wanted Michonne to like her when they first met all those months ago. Just like she had wanted Michonne to love her during those cold months of winter. Michonne doesn't feel hurt, not anymore, but she does feel disappointment at the realization that Andrea's heart can so easily be changed. Still, when they arrive back in their room later and Andrea lays her head on Michonne's shoulder and the two women embrace like they used to in those past days that now feel like they existed years and years ago in another world, Michonne feels some hope.
"We should leave tomorrow. I don't trust this place"
Andrea nods her consent, deepening the embrace, pulling Michonne in for a kiss.
"Not here."
Andrea's pull back is abrupt, but she doesn't look hurt. "I guess you're right. I forgot what it was like to have other people around, watching your every move." Andrea focuses in on the words other people and Michonne hears it.
The third day in Woodbury, Andrea decides to stay. Michonne cannot argue with her: she cannot force her to go, and she could never leave without her. Andrea doesn't seem to understand the last fact, though.
"Just go, you'll be happier without me." Andrea admits, "and probably safer too." The blonde woman tries to smile, tries to pretend that this is the truth, but who are they both fooling.
There are maps between them as they lie on the same bed, but, with the emotional gulf that Woodbury and civilization and the Governor had caused, those maps could have actually been the entire state of Georgia, separating the two women. Andrea rolls over, crinkling a detailed map of Hilton Head and Savannah.
"I know how much you wanted to go to the coast…" Andrea begins.
Michonne sighs, "We wanted to go to the coast."
Andrea ignores her, "But, what are we supposed to do there? Give up showers, the company of others? Beds? Are we just going to become hermits, live off the land, and, and what? Grow old together?" It's not the first time today that Andrea has said that last statement, but this time, there's a strange malice in her voice.
"It's just safer." Michonne knows that Andrea won't listen.
"Of course. Because this large group of, might I add, exceedingly nice, courteous, well-mannered, and talkative people are going to kill us in our sleep and rip us apart like the walkers will. Right. Like they don't need more people to help put civilization back together. Like they're just going to kill two useful soldiers who know the lay of this land." Andrea rolls off the maps, "I'm done. I like it here. I like the people, and" she pauses, and, suddenly turns to Michonne, searching her face for something. Michonne feels an ache in her lower stomach, knowing what Andrea's thinking. Just because I love it here doesn't mean I don't love you. But, Michonne's face is stone now, unreadable. And, Andrea turns away.
On the third night in Woodbury, Michonne's lost Andrea: she wants to stay here, stay in civilization. She wants to lead the most normal life that she can. Michonne can feel Andrea move further away emotionally everyday and further and further away physically every night, but she still can't leave her. Michonne is losing Andrea to Woodbury, but she knows that she's already lost herself to Andrea.