Michonne peered at the man sitting on the sofa in front of her, eating the food she and Judith had pillaged from the kitchen; simple porridge but she just hoped auntie Henrietta didn't notice a few cups of oats missing and some of her herbal tea leaves plucked from the plants sitting on the windowsill. She tilted her head and roamed her eyes over the mysterious man that quite literally dropped into their backyard. She sat with one leg over the other, both hands clutching the edge of the couch as she leaned forward slightly. She was eager, eager to quell her curiosity; a trait that hasn't served her well in her house mother's eyes but has been the catalyst for her own catalog of knowledge.
He was a beauty, if a bit older. His beard was growing out, giving him a roguish air and his hair was a mess of soft waves and a forest of curls collected at his nape. He sat slumped back on the sofa, bare chest revealing his toned physique but it was his eyes that intrigued Michonne. They were so blue and glinted with something she couldn't name while advertising a depth that begged interest. She trailed her eyes lower to the manly slope of his nose, skimmed the neat cut of his jawline, down to his full lips and over his pronounced hands. When her eyes slid back up he was watching her and Michonne sucked in a breath, chest hiccuping at being caught. He held her gaze; intensely observing her.
"Is the food okay?" She felt the need to fill the space.
He swallowed what mouthful he had. "Yeah"
His accent was unique, she'd never heard such a rich tone and attractive lilt. It only re-emerged that bitter longing Michonne had, that yearning to see more, be more. She'd been confined to 'Wysteria' for most of her life, only knowing the three floors of the main house and the wide berth of the front and back yard. She'd long forgotten what the world beyond the fence was like and what she knew was based on books and imagination and of what her clients let slip as they rambled.
"I'm sorry, porridge was the quickest meal I could make," she said.
"It's fine, probably the most decent thing I've had in a while…" he scraped another spoonful.
Silence fell between them. It was odd for Michonne, usually she was the listener of men's woes and frustrations but here she was itching to ask all these questions and he looked at ease with disclosing nothing. He reached to place the empty bowl down and picked up the mug of hot tea when his face scrunched into a wince, his hand rushed up to lay atop his bandaged wound and carefully picked up the mug. When he took a sip, those captivating blue eyes peered at her from over the lip and she smiled.
"What's your name?" She asked. Her dress moved like liquid as she uncrossed her legs and scooted closer to the edge, hands folded in her lap.
He lowered the mug and sat up as well. "What is this place?" He asked his own question.
Michonne frowned slightly at that but smoothed out her face quickly, easing into another smile. "Wysteria. A place to see beautiful flowers blossom" she recited from memory.
He tilted his head. "So, a whore house?"
Michonne's frown stayed after that. "I'm not a whore" she said.
He raised an eyebrow. "No?" He lowered his gaze to roam over her form and she felt squirmish under his intense scrutiny.
Michonne felt disappointment blossom at his words but she pushed it down, she wasn't sure why she wanted him to be different but a man was a man. She adjusted her dress. "I'm an entertainer," she said with confidence.
"So you sing and dance?" He took another sip and despite herself Michonne's lips lifted at the corner.
She nodded. "Sometimes I do perform, yes"
He hummed. Michonne looked at her hands and watched him polish off the tea almost greedily and oddly his earlier comment started to feel less like a jab and more of a simple inquiry. It was common for people to see them that way, many men came by thinking they were only objects of sex which Madam Gertie was quick to shut down with a look and choice words. Michonne was a dancer and she performed once a week on top of private showings and clientele one on ones where, true to form, she was obligated to see to sexual needs. This was a livelihood, and despite her aversion, Michonne has known nothing else.
Michonne had carved her worth in such a place, she reigned at the top because of it. Her clients were only a select few much to Madame Gertie's chagrin but they paid grandly for her and with that worth came perks and she knew how to use them even if she'd gotten a bit bold as of late; like right now, hiding a strange man in her room when she knew she'd be at the end of their house mothers unruly temper if they were caught. She shivered at the thought.
The man set the mug down and rubbed along his side, seemingly in thought. "How did you treat me?" He asked. "You can't tell me as well as an entertainer, you are a doctor?" His eyes were inquisitive.
Michonne shook her head. "I know some survival basics, mostly from books I found in Dr. Saddiq's office, but I called on him instead" she shrugged. "He owed me one for keeping a secret of his and you were lucky it was well in the dead of night so Madam was already asleep"
He nodded slowly and looked down at his bandages. "Thank you" he said quietly and Michonne couldn't help the smile that formed, maybe he wasn't so bad.
She went to speak but he got to his feet. "But I should leave, I can't stay here" he turned away.
Michonne glanced at the clock on the adjacent wall and rushed to follow suit. Worry rushed through her along with a sense of panic and she reached for him as he neared the door, her fingers slipped into his hand and she felt how warm they were from being wrapped around the mug and how calloused they were from overuse. They felt nice but she didn't dwell on that.
"You can't!" She clutched at him. He stopped and turned to her, brows furrowed.
"Sneaking me food, cashing in on favors and if what that little girl said was true then clearly this ain't an ideal situation and I should leave now. I don't want to cause any problems and I have my own that needs my attention" he pulled away from her and kept going but Michonne slipped between him and the door.
"Stop" she threw her hand out and it landed on his hard chest, she swallowed at the smoothness of his skin and pulled it away quickly.
"It's almost last light Madam will be making her rounds to all our rooms to make sure we are all going to bed on time, she's strict in that sense and believes we all need a certain amount of sleep to maintain our beauty" Michonne explained hurriedly. "She can't see you" she tried to hide her desperation.
"I can sneak out the back" he stared down at her.
Michonne shook her head. "That's downstairs and you might run into her. Just stay here for now and hide in the closet when I say. We can wait and when Madam falls asleep around midnight, I'll help you" she suggested in a rush.
He stared at her and Michonne wondered what he was thinking before he closed his eyes and turned around. He went back over to the couch and laid himself out horizontally and she looked at the back of his head resting on the armrest, one arm draping over his eyes. The panic settled some and she let out a slow breath. She just hoped this simple plan was enough, usually she could think things through more if she wanted to defy their house mother but she had been stunted by his pretty blue irises and his persistence and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
She wasn't one for doing the easy thing but this was crazy. She had a man locked up in her room like a naughty vixen which was ironic given her line of work, but this all felt a bit more risqué than anything else.
She walked up behind him and watched his chest rise and fall for a moment. "Are you really not going to tell me your name?" She asked to calm her nerves. He grunted.
"Why?" She leaned her head over him.
"I don't know you," he said.
"I saved your life"
He lifted his arms a little and she was privy to those ocean blues once more. Michonne raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips as she waited and he sighed before covering his eyes again.
"Rick," he told her simply.
Michonne felt an odd warmth circle in her chest at that. For some reason he didn't seem as unapproachable as his actions were giving off and unlike the rowdy and all encompassing men was used to, there was this steady quietness about him that felt calming.
"I'm Michonne," she offered. She rounded the sofa and found herself brazenly sitting on the center table, eyeing him.
He said nothing at first but after a moment he lowered his arm entirely and turned his head to her. "Is that French or somethin'?"
Michonne smiled and shrugged. "I'm not sure"
"Sounds like it"
"Sasha used to say the same thing…" her voice trailed and her smile fell as the thought of her long gone friend surfaced. It's been months since she last saw the woman she considered a sister, who she clung to when things were bad and needed to unearth her feelings even if she had been a year or two older. Her head went to the dresser by her bed and the letter that sat safely inside and then her hand went up to the simple necklace with the small 'M' hanging from the chain. She clutched it as her heart lurched in hurt. She missed her a lot and every day she wondered where she was and if she was miserable or if she was happy, Michonne truly hoped it was the latter. She never forgave herself for not seeing her off that day.
"Somethin' wrong?" Rick's deep drawl floated to her and she looked at him who had a crease between his brow and was sitting up on his elbow.
Michonne shook her head. "Just missing a friend…"
Rick looked away from her, seemingly uncomfortable and if Michonne wasn't feeling all these dampening emotions she'd find his change in demeanor amusing.
"Did she…" he was hesitant and then laid back down, not finishing but Michonne understood what he was trying to ask. She smiled softly through glassy eyes, she was learning a little at a time about this Rick.
"No..." she sighed. "She's just gone and I didn't get to say goodbye"
"Can't you go see her?"
"Leaving is forbidden unless you're claimed"
He went quiet. Michonne was starting to notice that he did that often, stopped talking and instead went into his head and it made her truly curious what was going on behind those deep eyes. She wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't be bothered to say anything or if he was just choosing not to.
Michonne found herself staring at him again as he looked toward the ceiling and when their eyes met again she felt heat line her cheeks and looked away. Michonne wasn't shy at all, she was more outspoken than the others and that's why she got into the most trouble. She was a force when she danced and all eyes were on her, she knew how to captivate people and under the gaze of a man she could hold her head high. But Rick, he oddly made her feel hesitant and coquettish under his gaze, there was something in the way he watched her that told her he was paying attention to everything.
That look she couldn't place before was becoming clearer the longer she was in his presence. It was like he was demanding her attention, commanding her body to react to him unconsciously. She was baffled by the way she felt the need to be closer. Her eyes landed on his lips and she saw them open as if to say something when a loud knocking popped the bubble that had encased the two. Michonne whipped her head in the direction of the door and she shot to her feet. He twirled to glance at the clock and cursed inwardly, she'd lost track of the time.
"Hide. In the closet" she moved, lifting her skirts a bit. She pointed to the double doors on the opposite wall, "go" she rushed him and he did as was told without complaint.
Michonne watched him close himself in and tried to control her rapidly beating heart. She hurried to the door and let out a calming breath before turning the knob to reveal none other than Madame Gertie who looked at her steadily. Michonne was about to greet her when she felt a searing sharp pain in her cheek and heard a loud crack. She was sent to the floor sloppily in a dizzying frenzy and felt herself grit her teeth and her hands tremble.
"How many times must I teach you a lesson for you to finally listen?" Madam Gertie said almost passively, standing over her, shutting the door tightly, that dastardly wicked smirk trying to escape.
"What do you mean?" Michonne pushed herself up and rested her hand on her now heated cheek, looking back and up at her house mother. Her eyes were hard and her stance was unwelcoming.
"Why did you steal food from the kitchen? You think Henrietta of all people wouldn't notice? She's as much a perfectionist as me" Michonne got to her feet unsteadily and frowned at the woman.
"I didn't!" She said but saw Madam Gertie's eyes look behind her and Michonne cursed. She hadn't had the wherewithal in her haste to clean up and that's when the older woman grabbed her arm and jerked her towards the evidence.
Michonne winced as Madam Gertie pulled her harshly to her side. "You want to lie? Michonne, why can't you conduct yourself better than this?"
"You feed us like rats, so what if I'm hungry?" She couldn't help her defiance, she hated this. Why her? Madam Gertie was so civil with every other flower in the house and rarely conducted punishments if they messed up, yet she loved to make Michonne's life a living hell.
"I strictly regulate everyone's eating habits so you stay as my pristine flowers.." Madame Gertie said and then eyed her critically, frown deep before they flashed with something and she gripped Michonne tight and pulled her close.
"Are you pregnant!?" She spat and Michonne's eyes widened.
"No!" She exclaimed. "I take the precautions I swear!"
Madame looked furious as she whipped her hand out and pulled roughly at Michonne's dress. "Stop, I said I'm not!" she pulled back, wrapping her hands around the woman's arm but she gripped and yanked at her dress until it stretched and the seams ripped. Madame Gertie then let go of her to use both hands to expose her from chest to stomach.
Michonne felt sick as she stood there. Her bare breasts were on display and her flat stomach revealed her truth. Madame Gertie made a face, "you're getting fat, I'm going to tell Henrietta to cut your meals down to less than half and have the doctor check you just to be sure" she let go of her.
"You're trying my last nerve Michonne, you're pushing me and it's not worth it" she pointed at her.
"You won't break me" she cinched her dress closed and held it. Her eyes stared into those bleak dark ones, already so much more different than Ricks. There was nothing but a sick enjoyment bouncing around in them and she shivered.
"It's not about breaking you Michonne, I already own you. It doesn't matter how many times I have to be rough with you," she grabbed a fistful of her locs and brought Michonne's face close, eyes roaming. "You will listen to me and there's nothing you can do, without me you would just be another dead orphan in the back streets of Alexandria"
Michonne glared and then she felt rough lips on hers and her eyes widened and she shrieked in surprise. She pushed at Madame Gertie, her breasts falling exposed again but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. Tears started to prick at her eyes as the older woman's grip pulled at her hair and she could do nothing but gasp in pain which let her house mother's tongue enter her mouth. She did the one thing she could think of and bit down hard.
"Auggh!" Madame Gertie cried out and Michonne felt another harsh slap against her cheek and the tears that had wheeled up, spilled. Her chin was gripped and it was brought to stare into the burning gaze and smirking face of her house mother.
"You are really trying to get me to ruin my most prized flower, huh?" She hovered like a dark entity and Michonne clenched her fists.
"I won't be here forever" Michonne bit out.
"No…but you'll die here and you'll do it on my command, when I'm ready to give you up"
"You're sick"
"No, Mich. I'm proudly your ball and chain" the smirk wouldn't leave, it felt stuck as Madam Gertie tried to temper it and failed so she turned to leave.
Michonne watched her go and as soon as the door closed, her legs wobbly and she stumbled before falling to the floor. She felt nothing but pain, disgust and dread as she stared at her hands pressed into the floorboards. Her fingers curled and her vision went blurry before she saw wet droplets hitting the back of her hand. Before long her shoulders began to shake and wracking sobs escaped her constricting throat.