"The fuck Negan?" Michonne left Rick's room in a hurry, quickly finding the solitude of her own.

The words that poured out of him like an apology only made her angry, like how dare he, like who does he think he is? "So how long?"
"It's only texting 'Chonne… and I told her I had a girlfriend. But she gave me a proposition and I said no… I just feel bad I let it get this far." She hated him. The way he tried to spin it.

This was cheating.

It was.

Wasn't it?

Emotional? Not really, he hadn't seemed to compare the girl to Michonne. And it wasn't physical yet so… the intent? The intent made it cheating, she was sure of it.

"Fuck you Negan." The venom that laced her tongue circled his ear canal. "I don't want to know anymore, just know I want a break." Her voice didn't hitch, or stutter, there was a strength there that her ego nurtured in the moment.

The silence on the other end of the phone gave her time to run over her words, made her heart stutter like an animal that sensed a storm. There was a storm brewing, and if you had cut her open during the phone call, you would have seen it tucked in between her fourth and fifth rib cage.

"Are you sure?"

She wondered whether the break in his voice was genuine… and then she felt ashamed for doing so… and then confused, until she was in this vicious cycle of doubting what her heart spoke to her.
But Michonne always laced her spine with stubbornness that would sometimes scare her, because it made her daring and rash and proud in moments where others would sit back and allow the world to spin purposefully on its axis, knowing that the universe often let things fall into place at the right time.

"I'm sure. I'm going to go now." There it was. Her own voice crack. She hated how it echoed in her bathroom as she watched herself, biting her lip as the tears pricked her eyes. It was crazy how vulnerable looking at yourself was, how it could make you wonder whether everything you were feeling or experiencing was… real. If that was the right thing to say.
"Mich-" She pulled him away from her ears and hung up the phone, slipping it into her pocket before bracing herself on the side of the sink.
Michonne debated whether crying was worth it, it always took energy that she never knew that she had and left her with swollen eyes for the morning.

"It's okay to cry." She propositioned herself, but never took the bait.

At least she didn't want to cry alone about this. And across the hall was someone who knew how she was feeling – in some twisted way, because he was the one that was dumped, not the other way around.
Sighing, Michonne held back the tears until Rick responded to the knock on his door and then she allowed herself to falter like the crumbling tower she was.

She had cried into Rick for about an hour earlier, soaking his shirt like she was the sea. They didn't speak much after she explained the situation and Rick cursed on her behalf.

Michonne liked that, liked the way he flowed with however she felt. Like reassurance that she wasn't crazy, that everything she felt was valid.
"Are you sure you aren't busy?" Michonne had asked when the hiccupping came to a halt, feeling bed that she had done nothing but be a grey cloud in his room.
Rick felt it inappropriate to laugh as Michonne looked up to him from his shoulder, "No 'chonne, it's fine… you feeling better?"

And he genuinely wanted her to be - partially because he wanted the proximity between the both of them to decrease before his mind found gutters that it didn't want. He remembered the position they had been in before her phone rang, and Negan had done this, how the air tingled like electricity was flying through it.
A rash part of him, with a horrible lack of self-control wanted to kiss her and make it count for all it was worth, unafraid to catch the remnants of salt on her lips.

Then again. Her crying, here, reminded him that her feelings weren't yet done with Negan… and she had hardly spoken about those feelings since entering the room. So could he really judge?

No.

But he wanted to shake her and say 'He doesn't deserve your tears'.

Although he got it.

Understood the confusion that came with no longer being the main object of attention for someone that had bestowed affection on you for a long time – it was all too important in the origin story of Shane's playing ways.
And it hurt… it hurt to think that someone, who you would never remotely hurt, could hurt you in anyway shape or form.

"I'm going to go." Michonne started to uncurl from him, the sudden loss of warmth so powerful that he almost pleaded for her to come back.
Rick was currently lonely and unsure too, the glass looking less half full and more empty.

Where could he pour all his remains?

He hadn't cried yet or felt the need to.

But there was love within him, that he knew wouldn't be satisfied in the hands of Lori and where could he put it to be nurtured, to bloom like sunflowers in the month of July that only faced the sun in loyalty?
And some parts of him spoke, in soft lullabies that he would only faintly hear in the middle of the night after Michonne left him with the feeling of hope. These voices had the answer.

"If you need me," he didn't want to pressure her to stay, despite wanting to explode with all the confusion in his heart and head at the moment, that weighed heavy like guilt on a mans back. "I'll be here".

Michonne smiled without it reaching her eyes.

Michonne thought about the irony of it all.

She had broken up with him.

The words still strong and resonating in her mind, like they owned the walls of it.

Why wasn't she feeling liberated and strong and free? Goodbye to poor sex while she gathered herself, goodbye to the empty feeling of wondering whether she was settling at times.
And she knew all the good reasons for this, but there were also the bad. Like the fact that her heart ached, it had to mean something right?

But love and lust can mimic each other, she thought.

Michonne didn't want to think at all.

So she cocooned herself in her covers and slept through her morning lectures, ignoring the sound of the cleaner that entered to empty her bins. Whenever her body threatened to enter ful consciousnous she would remind of it of what they were avoiding and it would slip back into dreams willingly.
Normally, she had vivid dreams, with colour and excitement, that made her wake up and face the day with an empowerment that captivated others. However, every dream was dark, with tones of grey and forgetfulness.
Hunger pangs didn't find her in sleep, and it didn't find her as a result of her phone ringing and waking her up in the late afternoon.

"Your text, Michonne are you okay?" Maggie's worried voice tightened the knot in her stomach, until she was a blubbering mess over the phone from it's pain. "Baby… you… you have to let him go. I've found a guy like Glenn and I can't stand seeing other girls get played about. You deserve a good-NO! Great guy."
Michonne tried to take the words to heart, but they faded like the number of Christmas lights on houses after New Years.
And the phone call was closely followed by a rhythmic rap on the door that could only be Sasha's, who's immediate hug made Michonne go limp in her hands. "Boyfriend trouble?" Sasha questioned, the taint in her voice dark. "This is why I tell Shane he can't be mine… boys bring drama and –" She stopped herself, understanding that whatever she wanted to rave about wasn't going to help. "Look, you are strong and black and beautiful. You don't always have to be strong. But just know your worth, okay?"

Michonne loved Sasha the most because she would often have nuggets of truth – formed from jaded experiences that she often ranted about whenever she entered Michonne's room for an opinion of her essays – that escaped her mouth at important times.
Worth.
She repeated the word until it was nothing more than a sound in her mouth with no meaning. Until the knot released in her stomach.
Until Rick knocked on her door like a night in shining armour.

"We're going out." He stated with confidence as he pushed past her, sweat making his hair curlier and his smell invading her room. "Shane is trying to bag Sasha, and we need something fun to do. So we're all going."
"Andrea?"
"When is Andrea not anywhere?" Rick laughed, placing a hand on her thigh. He had spent hours in class today thinking about the warmth of her, and the emotion that found him whenever they connected.
"And if I don't come?" Michonne teased, mesmerised by the movement of his thumb on her thigh and the blue of his eyes.
"I'll throw you over my shoulder."

She had fun getting ready with Sasha.

Sitting in this circle of truth or dare, there was no way Sasha and Shane wouldn't have at it tonight. Envy had laced through both of them when the other kissed someone that wasn't them. Whether that be Sasha with cocky boys that studied business who tried to slip lower than her lower back, or the lusting psychology girls who wanted to touch their tongue with Shane's.

Wasn't that how all truth or dare games go?

You always find a pair who's hearts are longing for each other… or just looking for a reason to explore their momentary lust.

Michonne and Rick had egged each other into drinking as much as they could. So they slurred words, and held red cups in their hands as they sat next to each other. Shoulders rubbing whenever a joke was made in a group that travelled to their stomachs.
Looking around the circle, Michonne couldn't help but wonder if the girl Negan was texting looked like any of them. With their straight hair, their pointed noses, their fake laughs for the jocks that rang like lies.

The alcohol dimmed everything else within her as the game went on, her mind counting down to when it was landing on Rick. She wanted to see who would kiss him and how they would kiss him. Whether she would kiss him and what would she do?
It was a difficult thing, breaks. Because, to her, this wasn't a 'I can sleep with anyone I want to now and have no repurcussions', it was 'we're going to dislike each other and I need to clear my head from the relationship before coming back to you'.
There was no ill intent. No scouting for others. And she thought – or more so hoped – that Negan would be looking at it in the same way without having to be told.

Rick's turn and his cheeks already flushed from the alcohol grew redder as the blonde girl, with a doughy face, who looked out of place almost in the crowd that jostled with confident individuals. Her aura imitated humility, but there was an undercurrent of something Michonne couldn't put her thumb on as Rick met her half way, their lips meeting in what looked to be a peck until the girls hands snaked their way to the back of his head.
"Go on Jessie!" Someone from the crowd barked, getting the rest of them riled up until Rick pulled away a little too harshly and got booed as he came to sit down.
"Nice one." Michonne whispered as she grabbed the bottle. Rick shrugged as he gulped down the last of the beer in his cup.

Her spin landed her on a boy that reminded her of Negan. The courage imprinted on his smile, in his hands when he grabbed her waist like he would find gold there… until he started to lean too far forward, his weigh pressed on her.
"Man down!" One of the boys cried, resulting in them grabbing him just before he crashed them both to the ground in his drunken slumber.
In her drunk state, Michonne merely laughed and picked back up her drink. "Looks like I'm not kissing any boys today!" And passed it onto Sasha, who laughed along with her.

Then it landed on Shane, who turned to face Sasha like a yearning dog who had been restrained from love for years. And this time it was dirtier, more intimate, him confidently handling her small body like an answer to his calling when he pulled her onto his lap in front of everyone and they kissed deeply.
The clearing of people's throats an indication to them that they should leave.
So they did, walking up the stairs still wrapped up in each other, like the vibrations of the music couldn't be felt in their feet.

Suddenly she felt alone.

"Can we go home now?" She whispered.

Rick complied with the sadness in her eyes.

Michonne had planted herself on his bed, slipping off her shoes as the room still spun. But Rick stayed a confident constant, and she smiled at the message of it.

She didn't want to be alone, didn't want to have to listen to her heart or the way that her mind ran, like a clock, ticking and ticking.
"I hate being alone." Michonne admitted as Rick looked at her from his chair. Stared at the beautiful way her cleavage grabbed the light of his room, how her red lipstick still stained her lips and her make up hadn't yet ceased to exist. The confession was deep and quiet and made him feel vulnerable.

Alcohol is a powerful thing.

"I think you're beautiful 'Chonne." Liquid confidence allowed him to look her in the eye as he said it, saw the slight squirm of shock that came with the statement. "And I hate your fucking boyfriend or whatever he is now."
She giggled, rationalising it in her drunken state that they were both just not who they would normally be. "You're lying." Michonne stood up and walked up to him, close and daring and burning. "On the second account, of course I'm beautiful. But so are you. Kissing that girl in truth or dare like you needed her to breathe."

"I'd kiss you if you let me." The intensity in his eyes made her warm in a good way.

"You're lying." She wasn't quite sure.

"Dare me." Rick's voice thickened and Michonne lost all of her sense.

"What?"

"Dare me to kiss you."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because-"

"Because what?"

"Fine! I dare you to kiss me."

And Rick moved like a sprinter at the sound of a gun, capturing her face with his strong hands and bringing her lips to his. Grasping her bottom one between his teeth as his hands moved skilfully to the rest of her body.

And they moaned into each other, losing themselves in the rich feeling of excitement and pleasure they hadn't felt for their former partners for some time.
The guilt slipped away, bullied into submission by all the other emotions being felt.

He lifted her onto his desk, loving the way her back arched as she pulled her top over her head.
It was a fit of fury as they removed clothing items and rejoined to kiss like they couldn't stand the distance.
His strong hands roamed her body, like a foreign land. Her breasts soft just like her skin, her moans excited him as he sucked on her buds and found his fingers between her wet folds, loving how smooth she felt.
Rick kissed down, excited that his fantasy was about to become reality and parted her legs.
Michonne was not shy as she rested on that desk, propping her legs on his shoulders as he kissed her thighs and then moved on her centre, making her mouth form a large O as she silenced herself, whilst moving against his tongue.

Rick knew what he was doing, had fantasised about it so many times and read about all the techniques, putting out all the stops for Michonne. Writing the alphabet, changing the speed, flicking and sucking like all he wanted was to feel the squeeze of an orgasm from her… and he got just that.
"Fuck." She moaned, twitching and looking at him with a lust in her eyes that wasn't over.

Michonne wanted to feel him inside her, like a calling that couldn't be ignored. She had always wondered what it would be like with him, and from the way he had grabbed her thighs whilst eating her, it would be enjoyable.
She didn't think as she knelt on the bed on all fours, looking back at him as she put her face down towards the mattress.

Michonne felt dirty, but good, and satisfied… already. It was a new feeling that even in her drunken state she wasn't sure how to handle.
Rick slipped on a condom and positioned himself behind her. She looked good, her ass defined and smooth when he rubbed it, then hit it receiving a moan from her that made his dick twitch in response.
He was excited to be with her, not only because many nights had been taken up thinking about the day, but because he wanted her to change her mind. To maybe look at him in a new light. To see where it could go.

Rick took his time, going in and out with the tip, Michonne's moans muffled by the bed sheets, until she hated the teasing and held her head up whilst she leant back on him and watched his face. Watch how he bit his tongue when she took all of him in, then rocked her waist to create a steady rhythm for them both.

Then they fucked like they had always wanted to, Rick deep and grunting into her, Michonne moaning into her arm as he changed pace whenever he needed to. They fell in love with the sound of her ass smacking against him, and they fell in love when Michonne's legs over his shoulders in missionary where he pounded her and sucked on her earlobe, where she moaned his name like it was the sweetest sound.

And she mounted him, her breasts bouncing as her eyes closed when she got close to an orgasm.
Even here she was beautiful. Her curves strong, the sweat beading across her forehead like a crown.
God, the view of her fucking him, her tightness on his dick, working up and down.
The sensations, the sound, the sweat, all too much for Rick to handle all at once.
"I'm gonna cum." He moaned out as she rode him, her hips frantic with the closeness of an orgasm just in view.
"Ah, ah, Rick," she purred his name as she tightened on him, her hips bucking in response to the orgasm that travelled along every fibre in her body. Rick finished, squeezing his eyes so hard he could see stars.

Michonne slid off his body and they both filled their lungs.

The awkwardness set.

There had been a boundary that had been crossed. Like a finish line ribbon cut too prematurely.

"Are you okay?" He asked, touching the inside of her thigh, causing her to shiver.
"That was the best sex I've had, Rick." That wasn't the answer. "I don't know if I am." That was.
He took her hand in his and that's how they laid for a few minutes, looking into each other's eyes and trying to gather whether what they wanted was in one another.
Whether today was a concrete commitment between them both.

Her heart ached.

It was confused.

Rick wanted to kiss her.

Michonne wanted to kiss him. To slip underneath him again and feel his warmth.

But she thought about Negan. About how long this break was meant to last. What she would have under her belt.

Michonne fell asleep, dreaming of an ocean that reminded her of Rick's eyes.

And Rick slipped from her, removed the condom, washed his face and looked at himself in the mirror. Questioning who he was, what he had just broken and what he may have just made.

Then he slipped back next to her, covering their bodies with the covers all over again and held her until he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The incessant ring of Rick's phone woke him up, the hangover making his head pound as Michonne grumbled next to him. The feeling of her plump behind against him arousing him almost immediately.

He didn't look at the caller I.D. as he swiped his phone absent-mindedly, "Hello?" His voice was thick and groggy.
"Hey, it's me! I came to surprise you, come outside and get me!"

And with the squeal of Lori's voice, both of them were now fully awake.