He awakened sprawled out on his back. He winced, clenching his aching head. A pool of vomit was beside his face. His shirt and pants were stained and he felt like hell overall. He looked to the other side of him and saw the empty bottle of whiskey. He was still dazed and confused. He woke up aware, but still drunk and angry.
His vision was a tad blurry but he saw a figure hovering over him. On instinct he rolled on his stomach and jumped up.
"Merle." He heard a soft voice call out.
His vision cleared and he saw Michonne staring back at him with her hands on her hips. "Is this a dream?!" He asked accusingly.
"You've been drinking, haven't you?" Michonne asked gently with a sigh.
He shrunk back from her. He could tell that she was disappointed. "Why are you- -?"
She grabbed his hand. He was taken aback by the unexpected tenderness. "You have a tub, don't you?" She asked, briefly scanning his bare apartment with her quick eyes.
"Y-Yes...," He said, looking away in embarrassment. "What of it?"
"You stink," She teased. "And you have throw up in your hair."
He blushed. Well fuck. It was in his hair too.
"I'll guide you upstairs and I'll clean you up."
Beautiful, strong and sweet. He was truly lost without her.
She led him upstairs and into his modest bathroom. She ran the water. "Can you stand?"
"I'm fine." He said, still embarassed by his current state.
She handed him his toothbrush from the side of the sink. "Brush."
"Yes ma'am." He said obediently, walking over to the sink and doing as she said. He dimly remembered last night. He remembered Andrea waltzing in and trying to seduce him but that was it. A sense of alarm swept over him. Could he have had sex with her? No. No. He couldn't have. Before meeting Michonne, sure. But after being with her and becoming attached he couldn't bear to look at another woman, let alone touch one. He calmed down, then sighing deeply.
She lathered up a bar of Irish Spring soap into the water, watching as the bubbles began to emerge from the water. He gazed at her in the mirror as he quickly finished brushing his teeth. He turned around. "I'm not a little brat, you know?" He said gruffly.
She smiled. "I know," She replied, kissing him in the lips. "Get in the tub, Captain Morgan." She teased.
"I'm no drunk." He muttered as he stripped himself of his clothes and got in. The water was nice and warm to his aching body.
"Yeah, yeah," She muttered back to him. "I'm going to wash your hair, do you mind if I wear one of your shirts while I do that?"
He smiled. "You're more prim than I took you for," He taunted. "You don't wanna get your little dress wet."
"I'm actually not," She retorted with a smirk. "I'll have you know, Rick let me borrow his wife's clothes. I don't want to ruin them."
His curiosity piqued. "Officer friendly knows that you're here?"
"Where are your shirts?" She asked, not wanting to get him into the adversarial rantings about Rick.
"The closet outside to your left."
She walked out of the room. He nearly broke his neck watching her and her firm, smack-able ass. "Damn girl, I love watchin' you leave, but I hate to see you go."
"Oh please." She said with a laugh, rummaging through the crudely stocked closer. She got out of her dress and shoes, then removing her bra. She put on a plain white t-shirt that she found sloppily put away. "How often do you clean?," She asked, attempting to tuck in the hurriedly organized clothes. "Once a year?"
He chuckled and licked his lips. "Well if I had a sexy, Nubian housewife I wouldn't have to worry about it."
She walked back towards the bathroom and leaned in the doorway. "And be your maid, hah! Fat chance."
She looked hot in his t-shirt, it hung off of her just right. It complemented her lovely body and curves. "You know it wouldn't be like that," He cajoled. "I'd take care of you."
"Are you still drunk?"
"Hell no," He quickly said, insulted by that suggestion. "You think I need the bottle to admit my feelings to you?"
"Did I say that?" She asked, her voice calm and cool; as always.
"No." He grumbled, realizing that his insecurities were shining through. She was a good damn woman, she only held him to the fire when she needed to; and she only busted his balls when it suited her fancy.
She smiled. Deep down Merle Dixon was a sensitive man. "You'll take care of me?" She asked, walking over to him. He sat pliantly in the tub, waiting for his scrub down.
"Yes." He said, looking up at her.
"Alright, you can pay me back for getting the puke out of your hair." She said, putting her hands on her hips.
"I'll do anything." He said hopefully.
"Wash cloth?"
"Underneath the sink."
He savored the view of her as she bent over to reach the wash cloth. She stood up and looked back at him. "Ready for your scrub down?"
"Hell yeah." Despite the circumstances he was glad to see her.
She stooped down and kneeled behind him. She grabbed the soap and splashed some water in his hair, then lathering some soap in it. A sigh of content escaped his lips as she began gently massaging his scalp. For the first time since they were last together he was relaxed. She had gentle hands and he wished she could massage his scalp forever.
He rested his soapy head against her.
"Hey!" She exclaimed. "I just put this shirt on."
"I don't care," He retorted with closed eyes. "It's my shirt and I don't think you'll melt if you get wet." Her body heat radiating against his was to die for. He loved the feel of her against him, clothes or none. A little lip service was worth it.
She grumbled at him and he bursted out laughing.
"Girl, you are somethin' else." He mused, his grin not leaving his face.
"So are you, Merle Dixon," She chimed, parting his hair with her diligent fingers."Close your eyes." He did so and he felt a series of splashes of water running down his face. She lathered up his back and meticulously rinsed off every speck of soap.
"I have scars." He replied, easing away from her hands.
"Do they hurt?"
"No," He said firmly. "But you shouldn't have to look at them."
"We all have some type of scar," She crooned, kissing the back of his neck. "If you don't, you're weird." Why was she so comforting?
He laughed. "Shit, the tiny ones are probably from you."
"Want me to go easy next time?" She teased.
"No, I like it rough," He looked back at her. "Where's your scars?"
"I have mostly small cuts," She sighed. "But I still have that bullet wound where your crazy ass shot me." She mentioned with a laugh.
He laughed with her. "Well you kicked me in the dick."
She shrugged. "Well I think I made up for that." She said with a smile.
"Yeah you have," He replied, then sighing as he felt her soft hands lathering soap on his chest. God knows he hadn't laughed in so long, he hadn't felt anything good in so long. This was it. This woman was it. His lifeline for his own sanity. "Can I tell you somethin'?"
"Sure." She replied as she continued washing his chest.
"The governor threw me a party for killing you." He said bluntly.
She scoffed. "I'm not surprised by that."
"He had the crowds of people greet me, they cheered for me," He went on. "Women flocked to me like flies on horse shit- -"
She bursted out laughing at his last statement.
"But I didn't stay long, I came back here and got shitfaced."
"Why?"
"Because I was upset and actin' like a little bitch," He sighed. "I was upset that I'd never be able to see you anymore."
She smiled to herself and caressed him from behind.
"Andrea came over here and kept runnin' her trap and tried to fuck me," He contiuned. "But I sent her ass packing, shitfacedness and all."
"She likes you?" She asked, a bit surprised.
"I don't know," He grumbled. "And I don't care," He replied. "I did that because of you."
"You didn't need to..." She muttered under her breath.
"What, so you don't care what I do?" He asked, offended by her dismissiveness.
"It's not my place to dictate anything." She said with a shrug.
His blood began to boil at her coldness. "I don't want any other woman but you!," He declared. "I can't see any other woman but you...," He said with conviction in his voice. "you're all that I see and want. I left the party and turned down all of those women, even Andrea because they're nothin' to me."
She was speechless.
"You're my everything." He avowed.
Her eyes widened. She was in shock, he said his feelings. And his feelings were real...she could feel it. Merle Dixon was everything. Crude, profane, sensitive...gentle, warm...comforting; endearing.
He turned around and adjusted himself to the other side of the tub so that he could actually see her. She gazed at him as he sat in a relaxed state in the tub. Both of his arms leaned against the back of the tub. He was looking back at her with his bedroom eyes. His eyes were beautiful and could uniquely capture his feelings in a rare snapshot of a blink. "I missed You." He said boldly, before his brief feeling of courage fled him.
"I missed you too." She replied with a smile.
"Come here and give me a kiss." He cajoled, his southern dialect coming out. Merle Dixon was a smooth talker for sure, once his crude exterior was peeled away.
She walked over to him, the smile never leaving her face.
He playfully grabbed her and before she knew it she was in the tub with him. She groaned in anguish. "Oh come on, Merle!," She exclaimed with a half smile. "Why the hell would you just- -" He shut her up with a deep kiss.
"Don't be so uptight, my Nubian Queen," He said, adjusting her body against his. She was straddling him, holding on tightly to his shoulders. "You're already wet now, can't change that."
She grumbled. Despite her cool and calm demeanor, underneath it all she was as feisty as they come.
He looked down at her body, the shirt was soaked and it stuck to her firm breasts. "You are the most beautiful woman that I've ever laid eyes on." He gently lifted up her shirt, he put a nipple to his mouth and began to suckle on it.
She moaned, shutting her eyes and titling her head back. He definitely knew how to please a woman. He reached under the water and ran his fingers between her legs. "You still have your panties on, that's no fun," He playfully scolded. "What kind of woman wears panties while she's givin' someone a bath?" He teased.
"A woman who wasn't expecting to be pulled into the tub and fondled." She playfully retorted.
He grunted. "I see, well why don't you take them off?"
"Sex in a bathtub?," She laughed. "Really now?"
"A man and woman should be able to have sex wherever they like." He replied with a grin.
"Yeah, as long as those places don't deviate from the standard laws..." She mentioned in apprehension.
"Laws?," He asked in disgust, a faint smirk appearing on his face. "Ain't no laws round' here now."
She rolled her eyes. "I suppose that you're right."
He chuckled, then gazing at her hungrily. "So, am I going to be able to make sweet, hot animal love to you tonight?" He paused, hearing her stomach rumble. "Huh, I guess I wouldn't be worth two shits if I don't feed you."
She was a bit embarrassed about her stomach. "I'm fine!" She quickly said.
"You're lean enough," He chided, taking her in his arms and slowly standing up. After getting out of the tub he put her down and reached for 2 white towels hanging up. "You need to eat," After they both dried off he put on fresh clothes, a crisp white tank top and blue jeans. She put on her dress and followed behind him as he made his way downstairs. "What would you like?"
She shrugged. "What do you have?"
He walked towards his fridge and took a quick look. "We raided a few farms of there cattle so I have plenty of meat in here. Beef chuck, pork ribs, steaks...chicken filets-"
"I haven't had a good steak in a while." She mentioned, feeling her mouth water at the thought of having steak again.
"Steak it is, then," He said with a smile, taking out the steaks. "I make a mean ass steak too," He touted. "Baby brother used to bitch for them all the time."
She smiled at the mention of Darryl. Despite his shortcomings Merle was actually a caring brother, and a good person.
"Sit your fine ass down and watch Chef Merle at work!" He said proudly, gesturing towards the bed. She walked over and sat down. He turned his back and turned on the stove. She blushed, barely being able to believe it. Merle Dixon was cooking for her. There were so many sides to this man and she loved them all.
I'll gradually be winding this story down soon and I'm debating what I want to do with it. I have a good idea of how I want it to end (2 ways, to be exact). I'm debating whether or not I want to make a sequel to this story. Since this story is almost exclusively Merle X Michonne, I was thinking about making another story with actual walker-action and whatnot. What do you guys think? I don't wanna play out a good story, but I kind of don't want it to end yet either (lol)! :/ thanks for the reviews and input!
