Another morning, another instance of Rick opening his eyes to what was becoming the familiar sight of Michonne's bedroom - the wide open space of it all, her mostly bare walls and clean floors, and the pleasant scent of fresh laundry, instead of a fifteen-year-old. He loved her room. And even more, he loved waking up beside her, his eyes focusing in on her lying on her stomach beside him, scribbling words on a notepad. He sleepily smiled at how she appeared to be so lost in thought, she was oblivious to the fact that he'd woken up.
"What are you writing?" he wondered out loud.
Her eyes immediately flitted in his direction, and a smile materialized, glad to know that he was awake, finally. "Hey."
"Hey."
She dropped her pen and leaned in to him, planting a kiss to the side of his lips. "Sleep well?"
"I did." Between the wine from dinner and the sex they had for dessert, there was little chance he wouldn't sleep well. "What are you writing?" he asked again, noting that she had avoided his question the first time.
"None of your business," she grinned again, amused with herself as she folded the bottom of the page to meet the top so that he couldn't get a peek. She then rested her face on his chest, looking up at him earnestly, hoping he would understand. "It's something I've been meaning to do for a while now, and when I woke up, the words finally came to me."
"So it's not a Dear John letter then," he joked, twirling one of her dreads around his index finger.
"Not. quite."
"And you're really not gonna tell me what it is?"
"Maybe one day," she granted, leaving light kisses on his bare torso. "But for now, until I'm done, I think this is just for me."
He gazed at her, wondering if she was somehow serious, given the fact that he told her everything. But when he recognized that she was quite serious, he began to nod slowly, almost impressed with her fortitude. "All right."
"It's not you," she promised. "It's me."
"We officially started this thing last night, and I'm already getting the, 'It's not you, it's me,'" he smirked. "Well, it was fun while it lasted."
"Shut up," Michonne giggled. "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're going on a run tomorrow," he corrected her, feigning sadness about it, complete with puppy dog eyes. "You're leavin' me here, all alone."
"That's a very cute face," she had to admit, "but you're not gonna guilt trip me into staying here."
Rick discreetly moved his hand between their naked bodies, finding her breast and gently fondled her nipple until it was erect between his fingers. "Can I coerce you into staying then?"
"That's tempting," she nodded against him, excited by his touch already. She loved the feeling of his hands on her body. But then she one-upped him by slipping her own hand beneath the covers, taking soft hold of his unwitting cock. She laughed when his head instantly lifted from his pillow in response. "You okay?"
"You just..." he exhaled sharply as she began to massage him with her palm, her warm fingers teasing his balls. "You caught me off guard."
