Negan had found his way down again, a small smirk on his lips when he first saw her. A brief hug and a mumble about when she would come down to him. She admitted it was poor of her and that she'd try harder, but that only received a half-assed nod from him that rubbed her the wrong way.

But Michonne let it slide, looking at the tan he had acquired and the way his body had moulded in the days she hadn't seen him.
There was a rash formation of jealousy that flared through her, wondering how the girls must have looked at him on campus, twirling their straight hair around their fingers and batting their eyelids just for him.
She grasped onto his hand then, unsure of what the action meant – or more so ashamed of what caused the action to begin with.

The insecurity plagued her and had crept up in conversations that took place in the middle of the night – where most insecurities made their claim anyway.
"Sometimes I don't feel good enough for him… but is that my fault or his?" The biting of her lip – a subtle quirk that Rick had identified she usually displayed when in a serious dilemma – made Rick ponder on his answer.
"Well, why do you not feel good enough for him?"
"Because of how he looks?"
He was quick to answer. "And that means what exactly in comparison to you?"

Michonne had racked her brain for hours over it, so the conversation began to mimic a tennis match. "He's more likely to… be tested."
"And why does that relate to you?"
"Because there are more options out there."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Who says he has to pick those options?"
"Well no-one, I just-"
"You want to know what my biggest pet peeve is?" Rick interjected, his body language strong, confident… sure. And Michonne liked it, liked the way it could change from someone who seemed so chill to a fire in a second.
"Entertain me Grimes," she quipped, leaning closer over the kitchen table, her bare legs touching his underneath, causing a brief tingle that floated up both their spines.
"All of the really beautiful girls I'd ever met, had this low self-esteem thing and I never got it…" The sigh that left his body might as well have been stored for years. "All because some guy doesn't love them the way they want – and I'm sorry, it seems like he doesn't reassure you enough and-"

"I know," Michonne admitted, her face contorting in embarrassment. "Grimes, I… I shouldn't need validation for myself and normally I have it in check but… damn it's been hard. I think that's what university does. You realise that the people in your town you thought were threats, aren't threats at all in the real world." She laughed to herself before making her next statement. "There are people with blue eyes, curly hair and a southern twang to steal hearts."

The red of his cheeks make her feel cruel, "You've got to stop 'Chonne." He tried to wipe the grin of his face by rubbing his hand over his mouth.
"Or what?" There was an intense pause where there wasn't meant to be. Like it was a dare. Like this was a do or die moment… or it felt that way.

Have you ever had a moment like that?

Where it seemed like life was telling you a door had opened and you had a limited amount of time to step through it?

And your heart pounded and you worked through a million thoughts at once just to get to a final conclusion?

She licked her lips like a question and Rick wanted to kiss her like an answer, but it was more of a fret than anything Rick thought, but he kept thinking so many thoughts in the mere few seconds he had to think.

And isn't life funny like that? Just when you reach a conclusion, the door closes.

"Lori will burn the flat down?" Michonne continued, filling up the silence.
They both hated that they loved the joke.

And now Negan took her from behind in a rough frenzy, much rougher than he had ever taken her before.
In the beginning, it seemed that she liked the dominance of him. How he had spun her around after taking care of her lips, then her jaw and her neck. She purred for him like she usually would in the beginning, because no matter how many times she was disappointed before, her body would wipe the slate clean with hope that the next time would be different.
And she didn't mind it, optimism ran through her veins like genetics, but damn sometimes… sometimes she just didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being turned on so he could understand how much the lack of cumming affected her well-being for the rest of the night.

"No Michonne, bend your hips like this," he tried to move her slightly, the slither of irritation in her voice making her cold. In a second she had moved from him, her eyes brimming with a hurt that he hadn't seen before.
"Why?"

And she knew she was possibly acting irrationally, but they had never made love this way. And she wondered where the change had come from? If it had come from anywhere or from anyone? The doubt plagued her all too much, to the point where she wanted to trust her mind and her gut, but couldn't decide if accepting both was even a good idea.
"Because Michonne, I just want to try something, what's up with you?" The fever of his voice was enough to make her put back on her clothes, the time was just past midnight, so she was well aware that Rick would be making his tea by now, or just sitting in there being who he was.

"I don't like being handled like I'm just a fuck. And if you wanted that, you should have told me before so I wouldn't feel some type of way about it." Michonne cleared her throat as she left, trying to not allow her tears to swell and blind her.
Leave him in the room, she thought, let him gather himself while you gather yourself too.

Admittedly, she knew later she'd feel too shameful to back.

Michonne walked into the kitchen like a hurt bird, who's wings were damaged in a flight they didn't even want to take part it. And Rick knew how to take care of her, with delicacy. So he walked to the fridge as she sat down at the table and got her a yogurt with her own spoon from her cupboard.

From the way Michonne's lips formed a tight line, and he starts to talk to her about silly things. About how the paper for his class is due on Tuesday and he's only written a few hundred out of the few thousand words that he's meant to.

And it distracts him from the reminder that Lori is in his room, naked. The feeling of shame he has that he slipped away from her as she slept quickly after they had made love… or whatever it was. At one point he had closed his eyes, and he had began to imagine Michonne on him, where his thrusts became manic in lust and Lori's moans rung in his ears almost like sirens.
He had cum to the thought of her, so having her sat in front of him now made him uncomfortable, more so because his body couldn't distinguish the fact that he had not been feeling the wet, tightness of her at all.

Rick was running out of things to say as tears fell from Michonne's eyes and he hated it, so went over to wrap his arms around her instead.
There was an intimacy there that they were both aware of, where the warmth of him seemed to comfort, it almost calmed her heart. It got rid of her hiccups. The smell of him was distinct, and soft, and enough in the moment to make her take a deep breath and gather herself.

"Have you ever felt that sex was different?" She summoned. "Like right now… right now there was so much less love in it." Her fists squeezed until her palms went white from the loss of blood. Her face began to crumble again as Rick looked at her, looked at how the brown of her eyes had dimmed to bleakness, then focused on how it made him feel. Powerless, almost, like he was obliged to save her in the hours of the night all because it was too delicate now.

The darkness of the night amplified your fears and the silence often cemented them.

"Whatever makes you happy," he dabbed at her tears, "should be the constant of your relationship."

And he was a hypocrite for saying it.

Because here he was.

The slickness of Lori still probably going to coat him in the morning time – but that didn't make him happy, and yet, it was almost a guaranteed constant.

Proximity was the key word here.

The closeness of them as he reached again to wipe a tear from the corner of her right eye with his thumb. He almost allowed himself to hook her cheek.

It was crazy what was happening to him. The rattling of his heart, like a city under attack, and the way his lungs expanded to get him to breath in as much air so his brain would have enough oxygen to make a rational decision.
He hated her hesitation, the way she didn't flinch, but didn't know whether to stay either. She could make it so much easier for him by moving away, but her defiance kept her there. Like a temptation that knew what it was worth.

It was funny how she had insecurities. It seemed she didn't at times like this.

"Hey Rick, honey I saw you were gone and-" Lori paused as the couple flinched away from each other, Michonne's cheeks burning beneath the dark hue of her skin. "Sorry did I interrupt something here?" The venom in her voice could have burned a hole in the metal countertop.
"No darlin'," Rick's twang strong and unwavering, "just helping 'Chonne out, you good?" He looked at her quickly with a pleading smile. They both knew where this would go if it didn't end quickly. So Michonne wiped her eyes, turned around to Lori and smiled.
"Yeah, just having a little tiff, that's all."
"Well surely you should be consulting with your boyfriend about that and not mine." The statement was clear and said with little remorse, receiving a scornful look from Rick.
"You know what," Michonne said, her voice thick and sharp. "I'm going to go before anymore dumb shit is said."

"Listen, Mich, I'm sorry." The sun had risen, lighting up the room with a soft glow that mimicked the one in Michonne's stomach whenever she thought about how kind Rick had been the night before. Negan curled around her, breathing down her neck. "Things have been a bit rough and being with you… it feels like an escape." Silence. "School is hard, according to my brother, mum and dad are having more arguments than ever."

She knew that was a sore topic for him. But the hook couldn't be let go of so easily. Something so important to her had been cheapened due to his emotions.
"Let me love you. Let me make it up to you."
"I want to be eaten out." Michonne stated boldly, looking him in the eyes. Wanting something more than what she knew he was offering. "I want you to love me slowly. It hurt me. The idea of you using my body like that… with less love."

He kissed her neck. "I know." He kissed her neck on a different spot, warming her, making her moist.

And Negan tried not to rush in the beginning. Kissing his way down the midline of her body until he got to the centre of her, allowing his tongue to finally meet her and for her mouth to form an O.
But he didn't stay there to her dismay, no matter how much her hands tried to make him, he still found a way to sneak to her breast and suck on them as he entered her.
The request of 'slow' lost to him after a few minutes and a few thrusts, and Michonne couldn't help but feel like the love was tainted.

"Yes Lori," Rick moaned, his thrusts strong and constant, the sound of their skin only muffled by the movie playing in the background. He closed his eyes as he laid on top of her, the sweat building between their two bodies. And he couldn't help but think about the bounce in her breasts, and how it may compare to Michonne's larger ones.

He thought about the sound of her moans in his ears, the grabbing of her hands in her back, and imagined the fire that Michonne would have. How her legs may wrap around his waist tighter, and how her smell would be different, and how she may be open to new things. To bending over for him, to spreading her legs so he could taste her straight out of a shower.

The thoughts made him pound into her until he reached climax, moaning into her collarbone.

"Rick?"
"Yeah?" He rolled off her, breathless and covering his eyes with his arm.
"What was that?"
"Was it good?" The look on her face made her worry.
"Yeah… it was just different. A good different."

They laid in bed until it was time for her to go.

And in that time, Lori pondered on the distance between them despite being so close in the bed. And the way she held her tongue instead of asking questions about Michonne, possibly out of fear. And she wanted him to miss her and beg for her and to fuck her again like he just had. And her mind thought that maybe if they had more distance they would be what they were again.
But there was a mean streak there, where she wanted to hurt him for making her feel confused in some ways. So, she rolled off the bed to put her bra and underwear on before looking him dead in the eye.

"I want a break." Her lips snarled.

And a piece of Rick still ironically died.