A/N: Rick and Michonne are finally content with their current living arrangements. Here lies Ricks ruminations/observations.

Song: Secret By Maroon 5

I know I don't know you

But I want you so bad

Everyone has a secret

But can they keep it

Oh No they can't

RICK POV

Michonne agreed to stay with us on one condition. I didn't even though I didn't like it, I didn't dare protest her condition; I was desperate to have her stay with us. Now I'm sitting here in the kitchen with this damn diary and I have to write about my feelings or how my day went and shit like that...

Fuck that shit, I'm not calling it a diary that sounds like something a little girl would carry around.

This is my journal... Rick's periodical of events.

She says it's therapeutic and that she started writing in a journal too. I'd love to read what's on her mind. It'd be so much easier than trying to figure her out. She's complex, intriguing, I never seem to ask her the right questions. She must have her journal hidden well, I've searched everywhere, even outside and I can't find it.

I'm working on understanding her. God knows I want too. The only time I feel sane is when I'm with her. The way she looks at me with those big brown eyes, it's as if she can see into my soul. Even her voice seems to calm me. The best thing about it is, when I'm at my most savage, she isn't afraid of me. She isn't afraid of me when I'm afraid of damn myself.

Michonne understands me with the clarity of a person who's known me my whole life.

Tonight I'm completely uninspired to write, so I go into her room in hopes of some inspiration. The stairs creaked a little as I neared the second-floor landing. I pushed the already cracked door open, wincing as the hinges squeaked in protest for the first few inches and then silencing for the rest of the way. The slight glow from the hallway pooled around my feet and drifted across the room, and settled at the foot of the queen-sized bed.

My eyes followed upwards...

My Michonne...

My Inspiration...

The sheets twisted around her lovely nude body (she may have on panties, but she is certainly topless), much of her form was uncovered; the hot summer night is the cause of that. My eyes raked over her form, and I could feel my own body becoming warmer in appreciation. Even though the light from the hall did not reach her, the silver-blue light of the moon shone through the windows, bathing her in the cool light of the night.

My God, her skin is so beautiful.

I got that strange tight feeling in my gut-adrenaline, I suppose.

Or is it my conscience?

But, I'm only watching her, making sure she's safe. No harm in that.

If only I could touch her, show her how she makes me feel. Let her know the extent of my appreciation for all she's done for me, for us. She's the heart and soul of the group.

I know I've got to be patient with my approach, we just got some stability here in Alexandria. I don't want her to feel rushed into anything either of us is ready for. So tonight, I'll be content standing here, in the doorway watching her sleep- gazing at her still, shapely body. I'll admire her full lips slightly parting while watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Hoping - praying that the covers slip lower, exposing the breast I can only imagine are perfect. Or possibly the covers will rise higher on her thighs, giving me a peek of her sexy ass. The way Michonne wears those painted on jeans. She has got to know she's been blessed with the sexiest ass I've ever laid eyes on. One day I'll do more than just watch her, one day I'll get the nerve to tell her, show her how I feel. And on that day, I can only hope that she'll feel the same way. That she'll want to be with me as much as I want to be with her.

For now, only God knows how I much want to love Michonne. I want her and only her, in every way imaginable.