I'm going to stop apologizing lmao. I hope this satisfies everyone after the wait, and as always, the soundtrack has been updated. Oh, and if you need a visual for the rope that is used later in the chapter, head on over to my tumblr. Enjoy, and happy Dead day! We finally get Michonne back tonight!
Twenty One.
Michonne drops her phone into her lap as the dial tone begins to hum in her ear. She swallows harshly as she moves some of her hair out of her face. She waves her hand in front of her face as perspiration springs out on her forehead. She illuminates her phone long enough to check the time. He's at least forty-five minutes away, well, maybe thirty if he's as worked up as she is. She taps her fingers on her knees before nervously glancing out the window. She glances at her phone again; three minutes. Three minutes have gone by. Fuck. She throws her head back into the headrest and shuts her eyes, opening them a few minutes later to spot Maggie moving through the grass. Her head is down, her shoes hanging from her long fingers as she saunters.
Michonne throws open the door, stepping out onto the gravel. She holds onto the door as her mouth drops open slightly. This body language is new for Maggie. It's unsettling. Michonne moves from the car, and walks toward the dark-haired beauty, meeting her half way, "Mags?"
She doesn't lift her head much, but Maggie waves her hand slightly toward her, "I'm fine." She sniffles.
She's not fine. They both know it. Michonne tilts her head before reaching out toward Maggie, cupping her cheeks with her hands and slowly dragging those green eyes up to hers. It's been years since Michonne has seen real tears from Maggie. The damn girl wouldn't even cry in front of her at the funeral. Her pride and ego had always been an issue, but over the last few years it's been out of control. Michonne remembers the last time Maggie cried. Another fight with the pastor. Maggie's hair was long then, down to the small of her back. She hated it. She wanted to cut it so badly, but he wouldn't allow it. She was barely eighteen, she only had two weeks left of high school. Michonne was already in the city attending college but just the sound of Maggie's voice that night over the phone… she jumped in her car and drove the hour to get her.
They went to the lake. They sat on the old wooden pier, their legs dangling over the edge before Maggie laid down, placing her head in Michonne's lap. Michonne stroked her hair as she cried softly, staring out across the lake as the moon light glistened with the water. Maggie vowed that night that he'd never make her cry again. She meant it. Maggie smiles a little, averting her eyes from Michonne, "You did good back there." She says after a moment.
Michonne laughs lightly, "Only because you were here." She lets her smile grow, "Are you okay Maggie?"
The younger woman shrugs, "I don't know."
Michonne laughs again, pulling her into a tight hug, "That's a start. We'll both get there." She whispers.
"Yeah, maybe." Maggie nods.
Michonne leans back, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Maggie's, "We will. We'll both be okay."
"You promise?" Maggie whispers, her eyes welling up with water again.
Michonne nods quickly, "I promise."
The two girls sit on the hood of Maggie's expensive automobile. They talk a little, but it's mostly filled with silence. The rumbling of an engine breaks up the silence from a short distance. It's him. She knows it's him. The sound of tires grinding against the loose gravel a minute or two later causes both women to turn. They both recognize that corvette. The American made muscle slows to a stop behind Maggie's car. He doesn't put it in park. He doesn't get out. He doesn't even roll down the window. He just sits there. Waiting for her.
Michonne bites her bottom lip as the heat returns to her face. Maggie cuts her eyes toward her, then back at the rumbling car, an amused smirk rolling to her lips. She closes her eyes but can't help the hearty laugh that bubbles up from within her, "I cannot believe you!"
Michonne scoffs, rolling her eyes a little, "He started it. I just wanted to hear his voice and he got all, you know."
"Uh huh." Maggie laughs again, slipping her shoes back on her feet.
"I can stay. I'll tell him we can meet up a little later."
Maggie waves her off, sucking her teeth, "Girl, go. Have some fun, you deserve it after these last couple days."
Michonne watches Maggie as she slides off the hood and begins digging through her clutch. Michonne follows her lead, moving behind her to rest her chin on Maggie's shoulder, "You sure you'll be okay?"
Maggie fumbles with her phone for a second, before clicking on a name and placing the sleek phone to her ear, "Peachy keen jelly bean."
Michonne sighs a little, but she knows Maggie all too well. She needs space to figure it all out, "I'll call you."
"No babe," Maggie shakes her head slightly before winking at her, "I'll call you."
Michonne can't help but roll her eyes as a small laugh escapes from her. She kisses Maggie's cheek before she grabs her purse from the roof of the car and moves toward the dark Corvette awaiting her. Maggie eyes the pair as Michonne slips inside and then follows the car as it pulls off slowly. The phone to her ear clicks. A bit of rustling can be heard on the other end before a surprised voice calls to her.
"This can't be who my phone says it is." His deep voice rattles off.
"Why can't it be?" She asks, dropping her head a little before taking a breath.
"Because it's been," The voice starts before trailing off into a long silence, "Entirely too long. I thought you hated me, for reasons that I still haven't figured out."
She shrugs although he can't see her and purses her lips as her eyes move back out toward the trees in the distance, "So did I. I guess I changed my mind."
"You were always a fickle thing."
"Have dinner with me." She doesn't ask, she just states it, firmly. As if they've already had plans settled for weeks.
"I'm in Miami on business."
"So?"
He chuckles into her ear and a shiver runs right through her spine. Her smart mouth and quick wit always amused him but her ability to surprise him is what really made him love her. Morgan clicks his teeth as he glances away from his computer with a sly smile on his face. He tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder and begins tapping away, his eyes scanning his Mac as he confirms the details. He grabs his black American Express and enters his info before turning his attention back to their conversation.
"Check your email."
Just as the words leave his lips, her phone vibrates against her ear. She pulls it away and clicks over to her email, where a first class boarding pass in her name sits, "See you in a few hours."
Morgan chuckles again, leaning back in his chair, another wide smile on his face, "I can't wait."
Michonne doesn't even make eye contact with Rick when she slides into the leather seat beside him. She just places her palms flat on her thighs and clears her throat lightly, keeping her vision straight ahead. She doesn't even speak. He pulls away from the small cemetery and slows to a stop toward the exit, grabbing his phone to search for their next destination. Siri pipes through the sound system a few moments later, "Starting route toward Rome. Turn left onto Martha Berry highway…"
The ride to Rome is a short one, barely enough time for her to get her thoughts truly together. Rick pulls them into the parking lot of the Hawthorn Suites, probably one of the only five-star hotels within a hundred miles. He pulls up into the circular drive and throws the car into park, getting out quickly and reaching behind his seat to grab his bag. She eyes him in the rearview mirror as he moves behind the car and to her side of the vehicle, throwing open the door for her. He reaches out his large hand to her, his fingers slightly curved as his empty palm waits for hers to fill it. Always the gentleman. She takes his extended hand and allows him to lead her inside.
His vison is tunneled as he moves to the front desk, where a small dark-haired woman flashes a warm, welcoming Southern smile. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. He just slides a membership card toward her that she scans, a slight beep sounding from her computer. She taps on the keyboard intently before she grabs a keycard from her drawer, sliding it through the computer to activate it. She slides it, along with a slip of paper toward him and waits patiently for his signature. She smiles once more when he slides the receipt back toward her, "Enjoy your stay Mr. Grimes."
Rick grabs Michonne's wrist and they're moving again, this time, toward the elegantly decorated elevator. She wants to make a smart remark about his clout reaching all the way out here in the sticks but a silver and gold plaque on the wall answers every question she has. He catches her eye quickly as they stop at the elevator, him slamming his finger on the small triangle to call the metal box, "Surprised, Ms. Moreau?"
She smirks and takes a deep breath as she takes her eyes off his name etched in the plaque – Lobby Design by Rosita Espinosa & Tara Chambler of Grimes Construction and Design. Building Design by Rick Grimes of Grimes Construction and Design. "No, Sir."
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. He allows her entry before he steps in behind her, looming over her as the doors close behind them. As soon as it starts to move, he whirls her around to face him and pushes her up against the back wall, his lips crashing on hers before she can comprehend what's happened. She moans deeply into his wet mouth as his tongue massages hers. Rick breaks away from her mouth for just the quickest of seconds, allowing her to breathe before he dips in again, claiming her lips for his own once more. He slips his hand along her hip to her backside, before it slithers down her thigh. He hooks his hand underneath her knee and brings her leg up around his waist, pushing himself in between her long legs.
He wrangles his hand into the slit of her red dress to caress the smooth skin of her thigh, gripping her flesh until his fingers make indentions into her. He pushes her head to the side with his face, exposing her neck to him fully. She sighs as her eyes open to just slits as his warm tongue slides along the curve of her jaw, then back down to her neck where he bites down with a salacious need. She digs her finger nails into his back as she hisses loudly from the love bite, her body sliding up the wall. He continues to nibble along her shoulder and neck as the elevator pushes them higher and higher into the sky, his devilish fingers slipping between her panties.
The internal heat radiating from her lower half makes him shudder. His fingers glide along her wet lips and he grunts into the side of her neck as he coats his fingers with her essence. He pushes his fingers into her and leans back as he drags a long breath through his teeth. He loves to watch her. His eyes are hooded as he pushes his digits in and out of her slowly, humming slightly to himself as her eyes flutter and she bites her plump bottom lip. He curves his fingers inside of her, scratching lightly at her g-spot as a sly smile spreads across his pretty, pink lips. He withdraws from her slowly as he feels the elevator starting to slow. He rubs her swollen lips and center before he pulls away from her completely, lifting his wet fingers to his lips.
Her breath is ragged as she watches him suck her taste off his fingers, "Mmm," He groans happily before placing his index and middle finger to her mouth.
She takes them gladly in between her lips, closing her eyes as she sucks the entire length of his thick digits. Rick smiles again slowly, like a villain in a super hero movie as his eyes scan her face from mere centimeters away. The elevator stops but the lovers don't budge right away. They just stand there, her leg thrown around his waist, and stare at each other with the exact same look in their eyes. He scoops her up into his arms and moves out into the hallway, walking slowly with his girl and his bag of tricks in his arms toward their Presidential suite. Michonne grabs the keycard from his front pocket and holds it toward the small black square box above the door handle, causing it to click loudly. Rick pushes them through the threshold and makes a b-line toward the bedroom as the heavy door slams behind them.
Once in the bedroom, he drops her to the bed, her laugh filling the room as she bounces on the soft mattress. He drops his bag next and removes his suit jacket, throwing it over the back of the small chair in the corner. He undoes his silver cufflinks and rolls up his sleeves as he flicks his eyes toward her. She crawls toward him and sits up on her knees, crossing her ankles underneath her butt, and places her hands on her thighs; her eyes set in a determined stare just past him. He traces her jaw with his index finger before he hooks it underneath her chin, tilting her head up toward him.
He cups her cheeks with his hands, rubbing his hands on her smooth skin, letting his fingers roam around her jawline and chin and cheeks as she closes her eyes and lets her mouth drop open. She lets her head lull back as a soft, feminine moan bubbles up from her throat. He bends down to kiss her again, but it isn't frenzied or harsh this time. It's soft and slow and full of his passion and lust and need for her. Their lips move with each other's in their usual rhythm. He sucks on her bottom lip, and then her top one before his teeth sink down on them softly. He pulls back slowly, taking her lip with him. She giggles again before he releases it and she smiles widely back at him, her eyes closed, before she bites down on her lip again.
He grabs her face in his hands again and stares down at her, his own smile growing as she slowly opens her dark eyes to greet his. His eyes scan her face again, her eyebrows, her chin, her cheeks, her nose, etching her beauty into his mind like he's never going to see her again. He digs the tips of his fingers into her hair at the base of her neck and takes a satisfied breath, "I am so glad you are all mine." He whispers.
Her eyes widen a little, but her lips curl upward as she breathes evenly, "Me too."
A seriousness drops over them, stiffening the air in their atmosphere. He tilts his head as he continues to eye her, letting his eyes slip down to her ample cleavage poking out of the red satin of her dress. She leans forward, letting the material move outward from her, allowing him a clear visual path right down the valley in between her breasts. He reaches out toward her and rests his hand against her chest, sending his eyes back toward hers- for permission.
"Sir?" She asks quietly.
He nods slightly. She reaches her hands toward her chest and places both of hers on the back of his. She then pushes his warm palm down her chest slowly, curving his hand before pushing it underneath the loose collar of her dress. His fingers slink along her skin, the satin on her dress rubbing against his now sensitive skin as she guides him toward her right breast. She pushes his fingers underneath her bra and lets him cup her flesh before she moves his fingers around her hard nipple. Her eyes flitter again as she tilts her head, the strap of her dress falling down her shoulder. His eyes cloud over as she takes in the erotic vision before him. He almost can't handle it.
He fondles her for a few minutes more, moving over to her left breast to pay it the same amount of attention. He pulls his hand away from her long enough to offer it to her again. She stands slowly, this time keeping her eyes square on him for further direction. He drags her other strap down her shoulder and allows his hands to skim down her body, pulling on the material as she wiggles out of the form fitting ensemble. It finally drops away from her and pools at her bare feet. She wiggles her toes and he laughs lightly, causing her to smirk sweetly. She stands in nothing but her black bra and panties and he could eat her alive.
He reaches out toward her body and lets his index finger run along the rim of her panties, from hip to hip. Slowly. Goosebumps jump up on her skin as he teases the sensitiveness of her. He then drags that finger up to her belly button, circling it before he continues pushing up along her abs. He grips both her hips in his large hands, pulling her closer to him before he lets his fingers sink into her flesh. He skirts up her back and unhooks her bra, peering over her shoulder quickly before it loosens around her torso. He backs away from her just a step and lets the black bra hang there for a moment, before he pushes the straps down her arms. She lets it fall to the ground with her dress and takes another deep, confident breath.
Rick leans down and wraps his lips around her left nipple, sucking on her thick nub before circling her areola with his tongue. She digs her hands into his salt and pepper hair, gripping and pulling tightly as electricity shoots from her chest to the tips of her toes. He lets her breast go with a smack before he stands up straight again. He hooks his hands underneath her underwear and pushes them down her legs until they're in a heap on the floor with the rest of her clothing. He pecks her lips quickly before he turns his attention to his duffle bag, pulling out his bondage rope. He holds it out for her, letting her feel the soft cotton before he hands it to her and moves to cut off the light and close the blinds. A soft darkness takes over the room – except for the blue hue radiating from the rope in her hands.
"This will look beautiful on you," He coos as he moves back toward her, taking it from her hands and untying it.
He kneels and begins wrapping the rope around her legs, connecting both pieces in a stiff knot at her waist. He grabs more and intricately wraps her body with it, crisscrossing the rope into delicate designs against her skin. He moves up to her torso, wrapping the soft rope just underneath her breasts and around her back, before stretching it tightly right on top of her nipples. He crosses the rope over her shoulders and then puts the finishing touches on his handiwork. He pulls out another segment of rope and steps behind her, grabbing each wrist of hers to coerce her fingers to intertwine.
Michonne takes an audible breath as she feels the soft cotton of the bondage rope begin to wrap around her wrists. It's a comfortable breath, not one of apprehension or nerves, but, a content one. She's safe; she's now settled here, in this feeling, this world, but it feels different somehow still. There's much more of her to give to him now; now that she's let go of so much. No more baggage. No more heaviness to carry around. Now she's an open book with all of her old pages ripped out and shredded and sprinkled on the floor. She's been renewed with fresh, blank pages, all for him to scribble his musings on. She closes her eyes as she feels him wrapping the rope up along her forearms. He pulls tightly, and she moans at the sudden pressure. He knots the final rope and pulls on certain sections, testing the tightness before he moves back around to face her, gauging her comfort level. She nods, relishing in the tightness of the cotton against her skin and body.
He steps back, letting his eyes roam along her bound, naked body. He then kneels again, slowly, tilting his head up toward her, keeping his piercing blues on her the whole while. He wraps his large hands around her thighs and kneads her flesh like dough as he exhales deeply. He's needed this all day. He leans into her flat stomach, pressing his forehead against her as he closes his eyes, letting himself relax, letting her body comfort him. He pokes his lips out to plant kisses along her skin, sending his eyes up her body and to her dark brown orbs, smirking softly. He pushes his hands up her hips where they settle just at her sides. He pulls her body and she shuffles forward.
He sinks lower, coming eye to eye with his favorite part of her. He wastes no time in smothering his face with her intimate part. His tongue slithers out like a snake in the grass on a warm, summer day. Rick is the first to groan loudly, his enthusiasm for tasting her growing by the minute. Michonne's hips begin to roll toward him as she pushes herself into his tongue and nose as his head begins to move back and forth against her. His tongue is warm as it moves along the length of her clit, before sweeping to the side to grab her lips between his. He sucks softly, and then lets her go with a loud smack and a soft groan before he licks his lips to capture her sweet lubricant.
Her voice starts filling the empty room. Her once soft moans grow louder and more frequent and erratic as his slow torture continues. Her breathing is harsh and broken; her lungs allowing random long draws of breath before suddenly seizing as a shock of electricity flashes within her, seemingly cutting her breaths of air in half. Then, her breaths are quick and short as she forces it out through her teeth. Her hips jerk as she continues to roll them, but his hands keep her contained. She won't come until he's ready for her to. He continues to tease her with his reptilian like tongue and lips, sucking and flicking at her sensitive nub. He lets one hand relax, slipping it down her side and thigh, and then snaking it in between her legs with his tongue. He pushes his index and middle finger into her again, another shudder rippling down his spine.
She is so warm. The muscles inside of her are tight and swollen and wet, wanting him, begging him to release them of this tension. He curls his fingers again and massages her spot as his tongue continues to coax her outside. He peaks up at her from in between her beautiful, full breasts as they jiggle and bounce with every movement from her. She lets her head fall back and lets the feeling of her hair scratching along her hypersensitive skin mix with the pleasure that he's suppling like alcohol and Xanax. It is one sweet, addictive, blur of sensation. She gives her body full control, not wanting to anticipate or fight the impending explosion destined for her. She just wants to feel it.
And feel it, she does.
Her knees buckle suddenly as her orgasm washes over her like she's just stepped into a hot shower. Rick keeps a steady hold of her as her insides convulse around his fingers and her hips writhe against his wet mouth. He can almost feel her blood coursing through her veins as she comes around him, her sex pulsating from the release. He eats it up. He doesn't waste a single drip of her as he waits for her to come down from the ride he sent her on. He pulls out his fingers and gives her one last kiss as her breath begins to calm. He cups her sex with his bare hand, loving how plump and swollen she feels after an orgasm.
He stands back to his feet, breathing slow and evenly, his chest touching hers as he inhales and exhales. He continues to palm her as he watches her struggle to regain some sort of composure. Her breath is still ragged and choppy as her eyes are nearly closed, grunts scratching at the back of her throat. He reaches toward her, taking her body into his hands once more and turns her slowly so her back is now crushed to his front. He helps her onto the bed, guiding her forward until she positioned just right. He taps the inside of her thigh a little, alerting her. She adjusts again, spreading her legs apart even further for him as her knees dig into the mattress below. She rests her forehead into the soft duvet as she feels his eyes on her. She quickly figuring out that doggy style is one of his favorites; hers too. Only because he likes to look at her, all of her; and she likes being looked at.
Rick unleashed his devilish fingers and slinks them up the back of her thigh again, only to inch back in between her glistening lips. She moans into the white duvet as he strokes her with one hand. She then hears his belt unbuckling, then being pulled through his expensive belt loops, then the clasp hitting the floor. Her excitement for him grows again just at the sound. His collared shirt is next. She can hear him pulling it out from just under his pants, him popping the buttons, it moving along his skin as he frees his torso from it. He then pops his fly, and unzips slowly, causing her to squirm in anticipation.
His hands are on her again. On her hips and butt, up her back and spine, into her hair, before they sink back down to her behind. He bends down and kisses her lower back before he submerges his face in between her cheeks. She bites down on the sheets as his tongue pokes out against her once more. He moans into her and she feels it rumble through her belly and into her chest. She pushes against her restraints, her wrists rubbing against one another as she spreads her fingers to release the tightness that begins to build in them. She feels his large hand cover hers, and without a word spoken, he asks her if she's still okay. She nods quickly as she rolls her head to the side, her hair falling into her face, cutting into her vision, "I'm fine." She says airily.
Rick pulls his hand away from hers. He stands again, joining her on the bed, his weight causing her to sink further into the mattress. He closes her legs together, maneuvering her just the way he likes her with his strong hands. Her knees and thighs are now pressed together, and her beautiful, still swollen, lips are on full display. He takes himself into his hand, and runs this thick, stubborn hard on along her slit, coating his tip with her lubricant. He pushes slightly, and she juts forward, her eyes fluttering as he enters her slowly. One solid, low, gritty groan from her accompanies his intrusion as he spreads and fills her body. She rubs her forehead against the sheets as she hisses and moans. They enjoy being connected for a moment, neither one of them moving right away. It feels good to just be inside of her, and she feels good just being filled by him.
He pulls back, and pushes into her, forcefully this time, and it's just what she's wanted. He stops, and she begins to whine, wanting to wash this dreadful day away, "Oh please." She begs through clenched teeth. She bites down onto the white duvet again, "Please Daddy. Hard." She mumbles.
Her wish is his command. He bucks into her with all he can give and is rewarded with the sexiest growl from her that he thinks he's ever heard. It's deep and low and scratchy and satisfied. This is what she wanted; and he's going to give it to her. He pounds into her relentlessly, grabbing a hold of her hips to guide her body back into his with a thud. Their skin slaps against one another's, adding to the sexual soundtrack of her muffled moans and his deep exhales. He pushes his weight into her through his hands, pushing her lower back down to the mattress. He leans forward and over her, resting a hand on her shoulder as he continues to glide in and out of her with ease.
Michonne's eyes are closed so tight that a tear springs free and dribbles down her cheek. She continues to pull on her restraints, the soft cotton digging into her skin as she creates a friction. A numb sensation begins to build in the pit of her stomach and each deep stroke brings the beast back to life. He feels her walls beginning to contract around him and he punishes her harder than before. One, two, three, more strokes and she's gone again, screaming into the pillows and sheets as another orgasm rips through her. Rick spills his hot seed into her as her muscles convulse, milking him dry. Michonne's body completely gives out and she crashes to the mattress, rolling over onto her side as Rick collapses next to her. She maneuvers herself on top of him, resting her head on his chest as it rises and falls. He fumbles with the rope around her arms, freeing her limbs and allowing her to stretch them out on either side of him.
They breathe in unison as they lay in silence. Michonne pulls her hands to his biceps, wrapping around them loosely as she blinks into the darkness. She can't help the smile the curls onto her face after a while. Who would have thought that her day would have ended like this? She's usually curled in a ball in her cold bed, crying her eyes out, missing her little boy. She still misses him of course, but in a different way now. She wants to talk but not here. She wants to be in his masculine space, surrounded by his things. She feels safe there. Comforted by the thought that she's the only feminine energy to penetrate his sacred territory. She places both of her hands on his chest and rests her chin on them, tilting her head slightly as she eyes him.
He smiles slowly before he starts to rub her back, rolling his head to the side, "What is it woman?"
She laughs a little, "I'm ready to go home." She bites her lip as she shifts her gaze away from him, hoping that her loose use of "home" doesn't bother him.
"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, letting out a breath, "You don't want to spend the night?"
She shakes her head, relaxing a little as he doesn't even seem to be fazed by her quite purposefully slip, "I'd feel cheap if we stayed here."
He laughs loudly, scrunching his nose as his eyes close. She loves that laugh. That, carefree, unabashed laugh, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't have to pay for this room. It's kinda mine since, you know, I built the place."
"Oh my god," Michonne groans, rolling her eyes, "Brag much?"
He laughs again, "You are something else, girl. I could use a crunch bar right about now though."
"Then let's go cowboy." She coos, rolling off him and setting her feet on the floor, "You gotta help me out of all of this, if you don't mind."
He moves over to her, lifting her head toward his by pushing her chin up with his finger. He pecks her lips quickly before he moves to the rope, beginning to remove it from her, "I do mind, thank you. I told you you'd look beautiful in this."
Their banter is light and funny as they move around the room, collecting their clothing and slinking back into it. They make their way back down into the lobby, their hands intertwined as Michonne rests her head on Rick's shoulder. His tie is draped over his neck on either side, the top three buttons of his shirt undone. The strap of Michonne's dress hangs down her shoulder as they move back out toward his Corvette. He helps her inside, before throwing his bag behind her seat and slams the door. He moves to his side and slips in beside her, bringing the car to life as Michonne replaces her head on his shoulder.
The sun is lower now as late afternoon falls over the couple as they start their journey back toward the city. Rick makes the drive much slower this time, rolling down the windows to let the warm air caress them both. Michonne pulls out her phone, about to scribe a message to Maggie but stops as her words rekindle. No babe, I'll call you. So, she drops her phone back into her lap and closes her eyes, letting the Georgia air fill her lungs as they eat the pavement before them.
The pair make it back to his lavish apartment eventually, turning an hour's drive into three or four by stopping to eat at some hole in the wall diner. They played with each other's fingers as they looked over the menu, sneaking glances at each other and smiling bashfully as the other one caught the others lingering eyes. They ate slowly, making very little small talk. He watched her as she sipped her strawberry shake and he could see that wide eyed, precocious little girl in her. She pulled her foot out of her boot and rubbed it along his shin as she crossed her legs, swaying them back and forth lightly, bumping them into his.
They now lay in his large California king bed, the moonlight cascading over their naked bodies. He had turned on Netflix some time ago, but neither has been watching or even remotely paying attention. His eyes have been on hers as she's resumed her position on top of him, her chin resting on the back of her hand. She's been watching him just as carefully, her eyes bouncing back and forth between his. Both of their minds are racing, but neither knows that they are thinking the exact same thing. Both bursting. Both just wanting to say it. They've both reached this conclusion on two different paths, him through giving up and giving in, her through self-discovery. Both are scared and not sure what to do, how to move forward but both are certain they want to indeed move together.
She breaks the ice, "I missed you today."
"I missed you too."
His voice is soft and calm, sleepy almost, but dare she say, dreamy. It encourages her to keep talking, "I saw Mike." She feels his body tense beneath her and he starts to sit up, but she stops him, "It's okay, I'm okay."
"What do you mean you saw him? He was there?"
"Rick, calm down."
"You should have told me earlier."
"Why?"
"Because," He huffs, anger shooting through his veins. He had a chance at that fucker and missed it. He should have been there, "I would have beat the shit out of that asshole."
Michonne keeps quiet for a few moments, keeping her eyes on him as he runs his fingers through his hair harshly. He's still tense beneath her, "Don't. Calm down please."
"What did he say to you?" He asks, cutting her off slightly. She stares back at him, tilting her head again, "Michonne."
"I'm not going to tell you if you're going to be like this."
"Tell me what he said."
"Rick," She sighs, rolling her eyes, "I don't need a savior anymore."
Her words sober him instantly. Lori said that to him once, during one of their many fights. Do you always have to be so damn perfect? I don't need a fucking savior Rick! Scream at me! Curse me! Argue with me! I don't want you to make it better! He was a fixer, he always had been, even when he was a kid. That's what made him such a good business man, but maybe, not such a good husband. He takes a breath. Michonne is growing and he needs to respect that. Maggie has sheltered her for so long, been her strength, her backbone, her knight in shining armor that she just wants to break away from it all.
"I handled it." She starts, making eye contact with him again, "He was his usual mean self, blaming me for everything, trying to cut me down to nothing. He even had the nerve to bring her with him."
Rick bites the inside of his cheek, his eyes still hard but his mind working double time to calm himself down, "Her?"
"Lai, his girlfriend. She was our babysitter. They'd been having an affair right before Andre died. He left me for her not even a week after we buried him."
Rick slams his eyes shut but takes another breath, sucking his teeth a little. He places his large palm flat against her back, wanting her to keep talking, trying to prove that he's trying, "But I told him that I wasn't going to fall for that anymore. Losing Andre was the hardest thing I have ever been through, but I am not going to blame myself or let him blame me anymore. It happened. Andre is gone, but it's over now. I can't keep reliving it day in and day out. I won't."
Although her voice is low and quiet, it's strong. She is not the same woman that he met at Maggie's party. She's not even the same woman she was this morning when she left. She's right, she doesn't need a savior. She just needs him to be there, "Don't be mad anymore." She whispers.
"I'm not. I'm not mad, I promise." He returns softly, "I'm proud of you. I know that was hard."
"Not as hard as I thought it was going to be. I only did it because," She trails off, dropping her eyes from him again. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she just can't get them out. This is a deep boundary, something that she may not recover from if he doesn't receive it well.
"Because why?" He asks, his voice low and airy.
She shrugs. Because of you. You gave me the strength because… because I love you. She doesn't say it. She can't. Rick's breath begins to pick up. He needs to say something, keep her talking. He needs to give her something, something that's all his. Something like his story about Lori. Something like, "I had a son too." He blurts out.
Michonne snaps her eyes back up to his, her mouth dropping open at the admission, "He was one the last time I saw him. I came home from work one day, and they were just gone, Lori and my boy. Just gone. My friend too, Shane. I never heard from the three of 'em again."
"My God," She whispers, "Rick, I," She can't find any words. She pushes her hair out of her face and places her palm on her forehead.
He shrugs a little, staring up at the ceiling as the words dribble from him, "Shane was a cop, he had every connection he needed. I guess they'd been planning it for a while because they just disappeared like thieves in the night. They didn't leave a trace of anything, just some old pictures. Just enough for me to know that they once existed." His words trail off sadly. He swallows and blinks slowly, "I don't even know what tense to use when I talk about my boy. Have, had... I just don't know."
His dreamy voice is gone. It's been replaced with an airy, sad, hurt version of itself. He stares up at the ceiling as Michonne closes her eyes tightly, hurting entirely for him. She's made such a fuss over the past day or two, hell, over the past few years and here he's been here, suffering all alone with no answers. She slightly embarrassed of how she's acted. Andre is gone, and she knows that. It's certain, it's final, it's closed. It isn't changing. But Rick's pain hangs in the balance, suspended indefinitely in the atmosphere, not allowing him to deal with it, or come to terms with it. There is no end in sight for him, and that kills her.
"How long has it been?" She whispers after seconds of silence.
"Seventeen years."
Michonne closes her eyes again, letting out a disgusted scoff. How could any wife do that to her husband? Her child? She opens her eyes slowly, all the while sucking on her bottom lip as a few tears escape for wide, soft eyes, "I, I don't know what to say." She starts, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Rick." She whimpers.
Her apology is warm and genuine, searing him right down to his soul. He sits up, pulling her body with him, positioning her in his lap. He cups her cheeks in his hands, his fingers digging into her hair as he tilts his head to the right. His mouth falls open as his breath rushes out of him as quickly as he collects it. His eyes are red and cloudy and wet, but not a tear has fallen. He wipes at the wet stains on her cheeks, his eyes moving around her delicate face. She falls into him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly as he returns the favor, crushing her to his chest.
"I only had the courage to stand up to him because of you," She says, more water leaking from her eyes, "Because I," She stops short, slamming her eyes shut.
Rick closes his eyes and finishes her sentence for her, "I love you." He says quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes as a weight lifts from him. Even if she doesn't want it, even if she leaves, at least he got it out. At least he was brave. At least Lori didn't take that from him too.
Michonne leans back to face him again. Her eyes are wide, almost frantic as her mouth hangs open from disbelief. Did she hear him right? Or is she dreaming? Maybe they're still back at that hotel. Instead of leaving, maybe she drifted off to sleep and she's dreamt the rest of the afternoon. Her imagination is surely running away with her right now. Her eyes search his as she blinks slowly, her chest rising into his as they stare back at one another. Rick tilts his head again, blinking rapidly to clear his blurry eyes. He reaches for her face, sliding his hands along her skin until his fingers are back in her coarse hair. His hands are home. His thumbs resume their soft stroking of her cheeks as she stares at him in pure wonder.
Is any of this real?
He seems to read her mind because he nods slowly for really no reason at all. He really can't believe he's so calm right now. He's been dreading this moment since that night at the parking garage. Even though she hasn't said anything, she hasn't left yet. She hasn't turned him down, she hasn't given him a certain look either way. She hasn't left him yet. She's still here, with him, at one of the most important junctures of his adult life. His eyes dip away from hers and to those two plump lips that protrude from her face. He flicks his eyes back up toward hers, but they divert again to her mouth. His second favorite part of her. He leans closer, his lips brushing against hers as he feels her warm breath wash against his face. He kisses her fully, sucking her lips with his own. He pulls away from her, their lips making that sound that he loves so much. But, he doesn't go far. His lips still brush against hers as he lifts his eyes to hers.
She still can't move. Her mind is a blur but somehow still all at the same time. She blinks again. Their eyes connect but his have changed. The moonlight accentuates the fire now burning beneath them. They are crystal clear but full of determination and promise. They're as beautiful, but just as deadly as the ocean. One wrong move, one subtle shift in the atmosphere, and you'll be swept away by the undercurrent. He bites down on her lip softly and what happens next surprises them both. He smiles. Not an overwhelmingly bright or cheerful one, but it's not a smirk either. It's not a shit eating grin, or a toothy, happy beaming one. It's just a simple, soft, perfect, smile.
"I love you." He murmurs again, his lips moving against hers.
He kisses her again and she moans into him sensually. He removes his hands from her face and flattens one of his palms against her back. He flips their position quickly, laying her back down on his bed. He settles in between her legs, his stomach flat to hers as he props himself up with one hand, his eyes still moving around her face. He leans down to kiss her, but she stops him, pressing her small hands on his chest. He backs up, his eyes filling with concern and for the first time since his admission, reality starts to sink in. He's said it. Out loud. There's no taking it back now. It'll hang above them in the universe forever. His face falls a little. He starts to shrink back but her lips curve up in the most glorious, toothy smile he's ever seen.
Michonne places her hands on either side of his face, her finger tips playing in his curls as she pulls him down to her. Her smile continues to grow as her eyes bounce back and forth between his, his nose rubbing against hers, their lips playing against each other's again, "Guess what?" She whispers playfully.
He lets out a labored breath, washing her in it. He's nervous. She can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, "Michonne." His voice is small, almost whiny, like a little boy pulling on his mother's dress to grab her attention.
"Just guess."
"What?" He finally asks, his face red.
"I love you."
Her voice is soft but full of delight as she bestows another smile upon him. He rushes in for another kiss and she giggles into his mouth, allowing him to eat it up to fill his empty soul. He kisses her furiously, spraying sloppy kisses and pecks over her mouth and nose and chin, causing her to laugh even louder. His last kiss, that last kiss though, turns serious, igniting another fire in the pit of her stomach. Her legs spread for him without coaxing, her bringing her legs up around his waist, her knees bending as she links her ankles and rests her heels into his lower back. He penetrates her without the use of his hands, watching as her mouth falls open again from his intrusion. He sways his hips back and forth slowly, wanting her to feel every inch of him as she swallows him whole.
His pace is slow, his strokes deep, as he pulls out of her completely, then plunges back into her depths. He places his forehead to hers and captures her lips with his every now and again before he nuzzles into her neck. Michonne wraps her arms around his neck, placing a hand on the back of his head as he spears her, their bodies pushing the pillows beneath her up the headboard. They waste the night making love to one another, not stopping until the birds begin to chirp, and the sun rays replace the moon beams. The lovers drift off into their slumber, her body half on top of his, their arms and legs curved around one another's, the blankets half on floor and half covering them. Michonne's dark hair splashes against his white sheets as her hand raises and falls with his chest as he falls into a deeper sleep.
She lets her eyes close fully and the last thought that she can decipher before she's lost to the darkness of sleep is that this is real. This is so real.