The night was long underway, and was officially turning to the next day as Rick sat solitarily at his dining table. Everything was quiet as he sat there, eating cookies Carol had made days ago. He liked the quiet, he thought to himself, staring out of the window ahead of him. It was pitch black outside, but he didn't mind the darkness either. It had been so noisy for so long, in his head, at least. His paranoia always running rampant; trying to stay one step ahead. It was tiring.
And when he got to Alexandria, things were just so confusing. It became white noise then. There was Deanna in his ear, then Carol, then Jessie, then Pete. He was hearing everything, and processing nothing. It wasn't until Michonne knocked him out that all the noise stopped. Silence. Peace. Time to think. Time to breathe. He felt better. And that was the reason he could finally actually enjoy the quiet of his home at midnight.
As he finished one cookie and moved on to another, he heard footsteps on the staircase. He tried to decipher who it was by just the sound, but decided it could've been either Michonne or Carol. They both tended to step lightly, he knew, though Michonne was practically soundless sometimes. She moved like a cat. He chuckled to himself at the idea, just as the lights in the room went out. He still hadn't viewed the culprit, but called out to them anyway as he turned in his chair.
"I'm in here," he said, a mouth full of food.
Michonne peered around the corner sleepily, surprised to find Rick sitting there, fully dressed. "What are you doing?" she yawned. She continued across their living room towards the front doors as she waited for his answer.
"I'm just... here," he shrugged. He kicked out a chair for her as he watched her check the locks. "Come visit."
She glanced back at him, a bit perplexed by the request. "Why?"
He avoided her gaze now, looking toward the window when he realized she wasn't in a visiting mood. "No reason in particular," he shrugged again.
"Okay." With a sigh, she took the seat adjacent to his position at the head of the table. "What's up."
"You okay?" he questioned, baffled by her obvious irritation, seemingly with him.
"It's late," she said. She had yawned so many times, her eyes had begun to water. "I just came down to shut down for the night."
He nodded in understanding, taking another bite of his cookie. "You don't have to stay then. I didn't mean to disrupt your flow."
She chuckled a bit derisively and shook her head at him. "You ask me to come sit with you like things are just… copacetic between us."
"Well after our conversations yesterday, I kinda thought they were."
"Of course." She smiled ruefully as she lowered her head. She pursed her lips as she considered how to say exactly what was on her mind.
"Are they not?"
"You can't just… romanticize your lies by saying you did so because I could've changed your mind. I mean, maybe you don't realize it, but it hurt that you didn't trust me, Rick. And I get it," she nodded, seeing that he wanted to cut in. "I meant it when I said that I'm still with you. But I don't have the luxury of shrugging off what you did and chalking it up to you screwing up. I gave you my implicit trust a long time ago, and I think I deserve that much in return. So you've gotta understand if I don't want to sit with you at midnight, uselessly chatting about cookies. Which we both know would've been the inevitable topic at hand."
