The Musings of Rick Grimes - Nyese3529 (2024)

Chapter 1: Art, and the Artist

Chapter Text

Art, and the Artist

I liked her style. She walked into my studio with blue jean overalls and a plaid black and white shirt worn over top of them. A red lace bra could be seen poking from underneath. It wasn't a form-fitting, skintight, pair of overalls, either.

She looked like she was from a page of a 90's magazine. Her eyes were expressive and danced around my studio with interest. I was interested in her. It was my first time seeing her face to face. We had only spoken on the phone briefly.

"I'm glad you decided to do this, Michonne. Not many people who answered the ad from the Art school wanted to pose nude, but it's the only way the thing is gonna work. I've been seeing these images in my mind for days," I told her excitedly. And I had. When I worked on something it consumed me. I thought about it day and night.

She shrugged her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal. That made me hopeful. Like I said before, I liked her style, her look. It was unique without being unique at all. Suddenly, the images I had for the shoot were turning into something else. It was becoming something better.

"It's no problem, Rick. I need the money to help with the next semester, and I get the Art, and the Artist who makes it. I love Art. I don't mind what you're trying to do. It seems dope," she told me with a reassuring nod. That made me nod my head along with her as I fiddled with my camera. I'm glad she got it. I'm glad this wasn't going to be weird or awkward.

"Well, we should get this started. I have somewhere to get to afterwards," she said cheerily, looking around. "So, how do you want to do this?" she asked me. The question confused me for just a second. My mind went completely blank. Images of her unhurriedly disrobing right now made me stare at her for longer than I should. I was thinking, I hope she doesn't think I'm a creep for looking so hard. I was also thinking, she should keep getting naked... Now.

"Let's take a couple of test shots," I told her. She nodded her head and asked where she could sit her things.

"The table over there is cool," I said pointing to a round glass side table. We were in my small, studio apartment that I was renting in Brooklyn. The walls were stark white and large paintings I had done myself were scattered randomly on them. She sat her things down and slowly walked through my studio. Her hands skimmed along the wall as she found a painting she really liked, and stopped to look at it. I grabbed my camera and took the cap off the lens, focusing on random objects until I found her. One painting caught her eye and she started asking me various questions. Breaking the ice , you could say. She took her plaid shirt off, tossing it onto the couch. I took my turn at asking questions.

"You ever modeled before?" I asked her. She had the face for it. I was pretty sure under all that baggy denim she had an amazing body. She proved me right. Her arms and shoulders looked great and her skin was the best canvas…so blank and creamy. All colors would look good on her.

"Nah. I mean, I posed for paintings at the school, but that's about it," she explained, as she bent over to take her shoes off. I captured the moment she did that. Her movements were graceful, like a ballet dancer. Each shift of her body seemed to flow right into the next one. Long locs draped to the floor, swinging as if in a breeze, while she took her socks off. She smiled when she noticed I took those pictures.

"You paint all these on the wall?" she asked me, standing up. I sat on my floor and began taking more pictures. There was something in the way she moved. Wasn't like any other person I met.

"Yeah. Worked on each one for a while. I'm not really good at painting. Photography is more my thing," I explained to her. I looked up at Michonne, so shocked that the sun highlighted her like that. She stuck her hands in either pocket and smiled that tiny little smile of hers. The room was quiet and all you could hear was the humming of the air conditioning. It was constant.

"Did you go to the Art school?" she asked as she stretched her arms above her head. I kept taking more pictures. The fluidity of her long and flexible body made me want to shoot her frame by frame. All you could hear besides our conversation was the shutter of my camera.

"Yeah, I graduated about 4 years ago. Just turned 25 in February. What year are you in?" I asked her, continuing our casual conversation. She had to be a junior or senior. She just seemed to be really mature in general. If she was younger, I'd be shocked.

"Sophom*ore. "I'm 20. Will be 21 late this year. Went on a road trip the summer before I started, and then just delayed going…so I guess to some I’m behind," she told me.

So, yeah, she was a bit younger, which I wasn't expecting. Michonne just seemed older. I nodded my head and looked through my camera again. She was gorgeous, though. Gorgeous cocoa skin. Pretty, full, lips. Kissable lips. Long eyelashes. As I said before, she had the look to model. I shouldn't be thinking this way about a client, but she was something else. It was how she carried herself. It wasn't co*cky or prideful. She wasn't trying to stand out or fit in. She just… was .

She sat down in front of me and looked at me straight on. "Your eyes are really blue," she toldme, leaning her head to the side as if to see me from all angles. "It's kind of scary how blue they are. I want to literally stare at you all day," she said with a smirk. "And you're country. Your voice sounds like you're singing to me." I have to admit, the comment made me smile at her.

"Yeah. I get told that a lot. And I'm from Georgia. Been living in New York since I was a freshman at the art school." I said chuckling, snapping more shots.

Michonne definitely wasn't weirded out by the fact that I was taking so many pictures of her. After a few moments, she reached behind her back with both hands. I could only assume she was taking her bra off, which she did expertly, tossing it to the floor. Her breasts remained perky, as she seductively covered them, flesh poking out just slightly in view. She crossed her legs and looked at me.

I had to readjust how I was sitting. I didn't want her to see how hard my dick was getting, and damn , it was rock hard. Wasn’t it common to be turned on when seeing the naked body?

Yeah, completely normal, I had to tell myself. I continued to wonder if it was okay to be staring at her like this and wanting to help take the rest of her outfit off.

No, dipsh*t. It's not okay.

"You are gorgeous," I blurted out. She blushed and looked at me. Dude, you can't f*cking talk to her like that. Fix that sh*t. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean you are, but-

You're a bumbling fool, Grimes. Get it together.

She stopped my incoherent ramblings for me. "It's okay, Rick. I think I'm gorgeous, too." She winked and we both smiled at her comment. "Plus…I'm a girl, getting naked in your apartment. So, there's that," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

I laughed. She was right. "You're right. I just want to be as professional as possible," I explained to Michonne. She smiled at me again and I had to lean forward even more so my shirt could cover me. The bulge in my jeans grew beyond my control, and I knew she could see it. Hopefully, my black t-shirt covered as much as it could. She was just so f*cking beautiful.

"I'm comfortable here. I knew what to expect and I must say you've been pretty cool about it all. You're not ogling me, which is better than most guys."

Nope, I thought to myself, I'm just f*cking hard as hell right now and want to pull the rest of outfit off of you.

"It's easy to do this for you," she told me. When she said that, it made me take the camera from my face. I raised my eyebrows slightly. Are there other things you can do for me? I just looked at her with a simple smile. I cleared my throat, so I didn't say anything stupid.

Um, yeah. I'm glad to hear that." That was dumb. Why'd you say that? Idiot. I picked my camera back up and resumed taking several photos of her.

We talked the entire time I photographed her. It was the point of the shoot. For my vision, I wanted to capture her in motion, so engaging in conversation was best. This was going to be my second showing at the Art gallery. It was managed by a woman named Lori, who graduated years back with me. We were close, and now we were trying to get closer. Both of us were career driven and just couldn't seem to find the time to really give a relationship a shot.

But anyway, my first show did so well that she asked me back. I'm anxious about what I'll have ready. I can't do anything pedestrian for the show, and it has to be organic. I have to tell a story. This story that's coming to mind seemed real. The series just had to come from somewhere and I had a feeling of where I was taking it.

I looked at her, ready to start shooting her naked. I couldn't just outright tell her to get naked, although I wanted to tell her to get naked . Being a dick in this situation seemed plausible right now.

She apparently could read minds, because she slowly started to unbuckle the straps holding the one-piece jean garment together. I raised my eyebrows again, because this sh*t was hot as f*ck, but I couldn't let her know that. I looked behind my lens and captured every second of it. I loved how coy she was, but confident. The simplest of smiles would stretch her lips and I couldn't stop gazing at her. Her locs swayed with every movement, the coiled strands cascading to the front of her chest, one after the other.

I didn't have to give her any direction. She just gracefully told a story with her actions. I tried to keep this as formal as I could because, you know, she was getting naked. Asking a client question was always a good way to release tension.

Before you release something else, asshole.

And the questions were mundane, like why do you want to study art? Or serious, such as, where do you see yourself after you graduate? And personal.

"Have you ever been in love before?" I asked her. She laughed and slowly looked at me. I paused in shooting her and couldn't help but wait for her answer. Everything about her interested me. Her voice made me happy, and as sappy as that sh*t sounds, it was the truth.

"I've been in a couple of relationships. I could say I loved them both. Not equally. Not the same. I loved both men in their own way.”

I had to admit, thoughts of f*cking her crossed my mind, once, twice...maybe seven times. Right on the floor. Slowly, because I'd want to take my time with her. Let her feel every inch of me.

She is the subject of you show, not your desires, Grimes. But then she cut her eyes up at me and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. Was I breathing? She made me forget to breathe.

"You ever been in love?" she asked me. I resumed shooting and thought about her question. She stared at me the entire time; a timid smile crossed her face.

Had I? And what was love? Was it the feeling I got when I looked at a woman? Was it how she looked at me after we made love? Does that soulmate thing exist? Can you have a love of a lifetime?

I never knew what love was. They were all questions I've had in my relationships. Questions that never seemed to be answered.

"Can't say that I have. How did you know you loved those men?" I asked her. I was curious about her answer. She seemed wise beyond her years. That made her more and more attractive to me.

"Just knew. It's funny how you can pass a bunch of faces on the street and none of them make you even turn your head. Then you just randomly walk in a store, or sit on a plane, or eat in a restaurant, and you see this person, and you know...that's who I want in my life. That's who I want, wanting me. And you do all of these things to change yourself to make sure they want you; so that they keep wanting you. And eventually some learn that's not love. But being yourself. Waking up and smiling and just breathing the same air as that person…just smiling and knowing that you both have no f*cking idea what love is, but when you look into their eyes, you see yourself. I think that's when I knew. And it's different with each person. Not the same. Not equal…." She was expressive in her movements and her hands started to talk with her.

The front of her jumper fell down and she didn't realize that she was completely exposed now. Maybe she did. Michonne just kept talking and it was all great, provocative thoughts about love. I was so enthralled by her. The entire time she spoke she gave a range of emotion and life. My camera found every nuance and froze it in time.

"Do you mind standing up for me?" I asked her. She shook her head and kept talking, the movement allowing her one-piece garment to fall to the ground.

I swallowed hard as I looked her body up and down through the camera. Satin-like breasts glimmered from the natural light in my studio. They led down to a taut, sculpted stomach, and even lower to rounded hips that teased at her even rounder ass. She was perfect. I'm not f*cking exaggerating about what I'm saying. To me, she was the most perfect woman I had ever laid eyes on. And she wasn't shy. She talked with passion. I was interested in all of her.

She walked towards the window and was still on her tangent about love and I felt like I knew her. Like I heard this conversation before from her. Like she always walked around my studio spouting philosophy and asking me if I wanted coffee. She was blowing me away with how smart she was. How sexy she was. Her confidence. Michonne left me speechless.

I stood up and got her plaid shirt from where she first dropped it. "I wanted to take a few shots ofyou in just this," I suggested to her. She smiled and put the shirt on. With one swift motion she stuck her hand behind her locs and freed them from the inside neck of her shirt.

"Just do whatever you want again. What I've got of you so far has been brilliant. I think the shots are gonna turn out great," I told her, looking her up and down. I honestly couldn't help it. She grinned and turned around and started to walk the studio again, and the session went on.

Her ass was the most perfect thing I ever saw. Round, probably soft. Nah, it had to be soft . I wanted to squeeze it more than I should, which was bad because this was a professional setting. I needed to turn my racing thoughts down, but when she sat on my bed I kind of lost it.

"You got an idea of what your show is going to be like?" she asked me. She tossed her locs to one side and started to slightly bounce on my bed. The image toyed with me. I took one last shot and sat my camera down in its stand.

"It's coming to me now, in bits and pieces. Once I look at the photos and get my story from them, I'll know what I’ll want to do," I told her. The black and white plaid shirt started to drape off of her arm.

"So… I guess we're done here?" Michonne asked me, standing up slowly. Her shirt sat agape as she walked over to me.

I wanted to run because if she came any closer, I was going to lose my sh*t. I couldn't look at this soft, tempting woman anymore. I didn't have the camera up as a buffer for us. It was just me looking at her now, and I…was… looking.

I liked everything about her.

"Yeah. Like I said, I think I got some great shots to work with. Once I go through them, they'll tell me their story," I said to her. She was now inches away from me. It was the closest I had been to her all day, without the camera, and I felt a strange heat coming off of her. I wanted to touch her just to see how hot she was.

"Well, I guess I should get dressed then," Michonne quietly said, moving even closer. Her voice was warm, but dangerously seductive. She was a bit shorter than me, and with her shoes off I seemed to hover over her now.

I meannnn, you could stay here and let me look at you naked for hours?

"I think I got what I need," I pieced together instead. As I said that she looked up at me with her doe eyes. It was like she really could read my mind. She opened her shirt up, putting her hands on her hips, her eyes never leaving mine. Her breasts were exposed again, a little bounce to them.

I panicked. I started breathing faster and I had to readjust how I was standing. Without the camera in front of me, I felt exposed…just as naked as her. I had been thinking thoughts about her all day, but this sh*t I couldn't help, my reaction to her now. She was sexy as f*ck, and it was easy to look at her through the camera. But now, it was the hardest thing to do.

I cut my eyes towards the ceiling, so she didn't notice me looking at her. "I mean… um… I mean, yeah. You can go ahead and get dressed. I don't need to take any more pictures. I think I got what I need," I explained to her better. I looked at her face, then quickly looked away again. She giggled softly and waved her hands in my eyeline, and I cut my eyes to her.

"I know," she said in a sweet-sultry voice. "I just think we could, you know. Do some things. I'm cute…" a sexy giggle escaped her, “…You're sexy as hell," she shook her head looking me up and down, the smile never leaving her face. Tiny hands found my chest and rubbed all over me. I let out a nervous laugh as she explored. Her eyes found mine again and she bit her bottom lip, saying the unthinkable.

"You know. Just...f*ck…"

The shirt just seemed to magically fall on the floor, and my mind...was blown. My ears couldn't believe what they were hearing. I looked her over. She was inviting me to her with no games. No second guessing or chasing. She knew what she wanted. She wanted me.

She kissed me. Well, she bit my bottom lip and pulled away, teasing me almost. I grinned,stepping closer and looking into her eyes. They were beautiful. They told a story and I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to know her story. I tried to kiss her again, feeling a bit more courageous. She would move her head and smile at me. At one point my lips were barely touching hers, and I could feel her breath on me.

"You wanna kiss me?" she whispered out, her lips still close to mine.

Was she torturing me? Did she not know how hard my dick was right now? Yes, I want to kiss you, and eat your puss*, and lots of other things. I tried to kiss her again, but she wouldn't let me near her mouth, her lips just grazed my cheeks over and over. I felt her leaving her mark on me. Her imprint. It was driving me insane.

She stepped back and let me look at her touch herself. Michonne’s hands began trailing over places my hands wanted to be, places I wanted my tongue to search. She rubbed her hands over her breasts. A huff of a breath escaped my mouth. She was the…sexiest…f*cking…woman I had ever seen in my life.

I leaned my head to the side; my eyes stayed on her breasts. I saw how perky they were. I knew how soft they would feel, but I had to be sure. I walked to her with no hurry, I didn't want to cause alarm, even though I'm sure Michonne wouldn't care. She made the first move.

When I was only a few inches from her I ran my hands up her stomach, cupping her breasts, the weight of them feeling just right in my palms. The smile she gave me nearly made my dick bust through my zipper.

I bent my head low, brushing my lips against her breasts. I parted my mouth just slightly to circle my lips around her sensitive nipples. They were warm in my mouth, succulent, and the moans that escaped her throat let me know everything I was doing was right. She shook a little when I licked each one in turn. She had wanted this. I stood up and pulled her closer to me.

"You shy and reserved in bed, Grimes?" she asked, biting at her bottom lip. Her voice was so innocent, but so seductive. I was probably red as sh*t all over, because everything about this moment was heating me up. I stuck my hand in between her legs, both of us let out a long breath.

So wet. She was so wet.

She couldn't control her hips and started grinding her puss* against my hand. I slipped two fingers inside of her and she leaned forward, grabbing hold of my t-shirt. God, she's so f*cking wet.I moved my hands, reluctantly. I wanted to put something else where my fingers just were.

"You're not shy," she said loud enough for me to hear, and I smiled a little. She started to unbuckle my pants, carefully pulling the zipper down and stuck her hands down the front of them, circling her nimble fingers around my co*ck.

My eyes closed because I was not expecting any of this sh*t. I wasn't expecting her to be so hot. I wasn't expecting her to be this bold, taking control. But I would not complain. My breathing got heavy as her lips brushed my ear.

"I wanna ride it," she said to me. My eyes popped open, and I looked at her. Yes, Michonne. Yes, you can ride this dick. What was I going to tell her? No .

Nahhhh.

"I'll go grab a condom," I told her. I tried not to walk too fast to my side table. I didn't want to show her I was that eager, but if her puss* was that wet from thinking about f*cking me, I could only imagine how it would feel when we f*cked. I tried to be cool, but I couldn't find the condom quick enough.

Then I found it. It was like finding a five-dollar bill in your coat pocket you just put on at the start of fall. Michonne walked over and I turned around. She ran her hands under my shirt, lifting it higher as she rubbed over my abs, over my pecs. I held my arms up so she could take it off.

"You have a nice body," she rasped out still touching all over me. She kissed my neck, trailing her lips over my flesh, then sucking on my skin. I grabbed her ass with one hand, and it was soft. I knew it was.

She surprised me slightly when she grabbed the condom from me and pulled my pants all the way down quickly removing it from the packet and sliding it on my dick. I don't know what it was about her, but she made my dick jump, several times. She grinned as if she was staring at gold, which I had to admit made me feel like a king.

Michonne took control, pushing me back onto my platform bed, my black sheets cool against my now naked backside. She straddled me, placing one hand on my chest and using the other to guide her wet puss* onto my throbbing co*ck, and it felt...so...f*cking...good …

I let out the loudest groan which matched the moan she made as I entered her.

"Go slow," I breathed out. If I was going to have this goddess riding my dick, I wanted to remember every moment of it.

And she did just that, moving tantalizingly slow over every inch of my hardness.

There was something dreamy about the way she was rolling her hips on top of me, her locs swaying in front of her face…the maddening expressions she made as my dick slid in and out of her puss* after every bounce. I could feel her wetness dripping on me. Her titt*es moved with each stroke, making me squeeze them hard.

My hands lazily splayed across her stomach as she looked down at me. Her moans got louder, and I felt myself getting harder in her. She was so soft. So creamy. Her wetness enveloped me, and it was the only thing I wanted to be surrounded by… and her scent, feminine and light.

I sat up a little, grabbing her ass, trying to control her rhythm. I know I told her to go slow, but I needed it much faster now. I pulled her tiny frame harder onto me, trying to go as deep as I could. All I could think about was how good her puss* felt around my dick; about how long I wanted to be inside her. I gotta be on top . I turned us both over, my arm in the arch of her back, carefully laying her down and slipping out of her bliss.

My lips needed to feel some part of her skin. They had to. I skimmed them over her hip bone, across her stomach, between her breasts, along her collarbone. I kissed her chin. I could hear her soft pants as I kissed her. I got on my knees, slowly parting her legs to enter her again, and bracing myself over her.

I grabbed my co*ck, sliding it along with the top of her puss* lips, and slowly rubbed my head against her slit, parting her folds. Her mouth gaped open as she looked at me, letting out tiny puffs of breath. Her hunger for me increased as I rubbed my dick over her most sensitive spot. She squirmed under me, turning me on more.

"Stop teasing me," she barely got out. I had her shaking. I slowly shook my head and grinned down at her.

"Nahh," I said, slipping the head of my co*ck slightly inside of her wetness. I quickly pulled it out. "I wanna go slow," I told her, and it seemed like she got even wetter after I said that. I moved over her like that for a few moments, looking at her tossing her head back in delight. Damnnn, w as all that came to mind. I couldn't help it, I plunged inside of her, welcoming the feel of her slickness again.

We shuddered together and I looked into her eyes, which was a fool's mistake because now I was lost in them. She looked at me too and didn't take her eyes off of me. That's when I knew I had to. I had to kiss Michonne.

And she let me. I kissed her full lips several times, sucking on them in between my own. My tongue hungrily searching for hers, and when I found it I felt like I couldn't taste enough of her. I thrust inside of her, grunting like an animal. Her nails scratched my back, and her legs tightened even more around my waist. I felt her arching towards me as her head drifted back. She looks like she was lost somewhere. Somewhere I wanted to be.

I gazed at this woman who pretty much seduced me into f*cking her, and I got lost in her moans, in the faces she made as I pumped inside of her. I felt myself almost there, on the brink of whatever wave we were riding together. She moved her hand between her legs and found her bud, massaging it so she could meet me there. When I heard her cry out that she was about to cum, I gave in to meet her, exploding, holding onto the sheets. I knew there would be no holding back anymore and I let out a large growl, digging into her. Her moans mixed with mine. It was all I could hear for the longest.

Finally, she screamed, "Oh my god," holding on still. It was so loud and sexy. I kept pumping inside of her, until all of me poured out.

I felt like I was buried in her, dissolved into her pleasure. I couldn't move. For moments that's how we were, still...silent...listening to the hum of the air conditioning. Her hand was still between me and her puss*, my face still buried in my sheets. A lot was going through my mind.

It was definitely amazing. I want to f*ck her a couple more times. I can't feel my feet. Am I crushing her? She's not saying anything. Why isn't she saying anything? And all the while she just held me tight, panting heavily. Her hands started to caress my back in sinful strokes. Everything she was doing was right. It just felt right. This was so unexpected, but it felt right.

"Well… that happened," I said after what seemed like thirty minutes. She laughed softly and moved a little.

"Yeah, I don't really know what came over me. I'm...um...I'm not usually this um...fast," she said softly. She sounded like an angel. She looked like one.

"You see me complaining," I told her jokingly, although I definitely wasn't going to complain at all.

"Nope," she laughed softly again and paused for a moment. I finally lifted my head from the bed, slipping out of her, which felt like torture. I wanted to stay like this forever. She looked up at me and smiled and I couldn't take my eyes off of hers. A bright and bubbly tune started playing in the background. Her phone I assumed. She rolled her eyes and looked towards her purse.

"Sorry, I have somewhere to be. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" I looked at her once more and shook my head.

"No, go right ahead," I said, rolling off of her, slipping my condom off. She quickly got out of bed and picked her clothes up from the other side of my studio. I sat up and watched her naked body move across the tiny apartment. When she disappeared into the bathroom, I threw my head back onto the bed. She's amazing.

I don't think I've ever been attracted to someone as much as I was to Michonne. We barely knew each other, but I knew her. I knew who she was deep down inside. I sat up, trying to clean myself up some and at least put my boxers on before she came back out.

"I have a painting class that I instruct. It's a kid's class...at the rec center. That's why I have to go, otherwise…" she said as she came out. She looked just as beautiful as the sun caught her again. She lingered on me as I stood there in my black boxer briefs. She was probably reliving what we just did. I couldn't stop thinking about her. About all of her. Take her back to the bed.

"That's cool. I know we didn't plan on...anything..." I indicated pointing to my ruffled sheets. I ran my hands through my hair, and she smiled at me. I knew I was going to get rock hard again.

"Cool." She walked over to me and kissed me. Just a peck on my lips. I wanted to kiss her more but opted against it. "When will your show be ready?" she asked me, kind of shy…completely different from who she was just a while ago, and still sexy.

"I need to have it ready in two weeks. Got plenty of time, and great material to work with.” She gave me the biggest smile and tied the front of her shirt into a knot. "Are you coming?" I blurted out. She grinned and shook her head.

"I know this sounds weird, but I kind of don't want to observe other people observing me. Like, posing is different, but looking at myself as the art ," she shrugged her shoulders, "I know it's strange," she said walking to her purse. She opened it up and looked at her phone, then stuck it back inside and grabbed her keys.

I walked to her quickly. Again, trying to appear as calm as I could. I got close and pulled on her arm gently. When she smiled, I wanted to scoop her up and take her back to bed. She has something to do. Chill, Grimes, I told myself. "You have to come to the show. You're the star of it. It's my work, so it's going to be tasteful. You're beautiful ...Come to the show, Michonne.” Dude, is that coming out smooth, or are you graveling? I think you're graveling. But she smiled, so it must've been smooth.

"I'll think about it," she said, trying to walk away. I pulled her hand a little.

"Just think. You don't know?" I said rubbing her wrists, and she smiled. That damn smile of hers. Those fifth graders might have to wait.

"Right now, it's think.ybe," she said to me. I couldn't resist flirting with her. She was too cute.

"Can I call you sooner than that, or does it have to be in two weeks," I asked her. She looked up at me then looked down at my boxers.

"Soon is fine," she said lustfully, looking me in the eyes again. I had never felt like this. Whatever this was, it was good, and I didn't want it to end. "I have to go. I'm running late and there is going to be traffic. I need to change," Michonne muttered out. She turned around and I had to let her go. I followed her to the door, and she turned around again.

"I hope the photos come out good," she told me.

"I know they will," I said back. She waved and walked off and I stood in the doorway watching her walk down the hallway. I closed the door and looked around my place.

Not much was different. There wasn't a mess or any real disturbances. But it felt different. Brighter. A better space for my head to create.

I walked to my camera and picked it up off its stand, turning it on. I looked at each picture I captured of Michonne earlier. Each one is different. Not equal. Not the same. And nothing but pure excitement came over me.

The show was going to be great.

Chapter 2: The City That Never Sleeps

Chapter Text

The City That Never Sleeps

I was laying down in bed staring at the ceiling. The industrial looking pipes for the HVAC made a good little maze for me. I have been stuck in my studio apartment for days. Days.The show was two days away and I was finally done. I normally would work a few bar mitzvahs and weddings by now. Especially weddings. Weddings were hot this time of year in the spring. But I didn’t take any new freelance work, because I was in a crunch to get my series edited. I was pushing it thinking I could get it done in the little time I had.

I did because I'm awesome.

These past ten days have literally been me listening to music while I was working. As I looked over the shots, I couldn’t believe I had taken so many pictures of her. I know I stared at her photos on my software for hours, trying to figure out the best hues for the shots. How saturated I wanted the colors to be. How big I wanted the end prints. There was a lot that went into editing photos. Lots of time, patience, and repetitiveness, and I felt like I knew more about her than I ever did before. The more time I spent with the images, the more I wanted to see Michonne.

I called Michonne the other day. We had a quick conversation about nothing. She was on her way to class, and I had just woken up from spending all night editing. Which happened to be the bane of my existence. We didn’t speak for long. Just a casual hello. Asked her if she was still thinking about coming to the show. She told me she hadn’t decided. I really hoped she’d make it there. First off, I wanted to see her, as well as wanting her to see the final project.

I toyed around with the stills, deciding the layout for the show. I needed to have a quick meeting with Lori today just to touch base. However, my bed was calling me, and a quick nap right now wouldn’t seem like a bad idea. I slept for a total of four hours last night. It’s been like that for the past ten days; I’ve been in a state of constant unrest. I stood up to go fall onto my bed when my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Glenn, a friend of mine.

“Hello?” I said answering it. I heard some wind in the background and Maggie, his fiancé laughing. Glenn started to say something, but I couldn’t hear him. Eventually he fixed the problem.

“Am I coming through now?” he asked me. I could still hear Maggie in the background, but there was less wind.

“Yeah. What’s up?” I asked, still a bit groggy and in desperate need of some coffee.

“Rick, what’s up, man? Maggie, Daryl, and I are going to the little muffin shop down the street. You should come down and get out of the dungeon you’ve locked yourself in,” he suggested. I looked at the clock on my wall. It was eleven something in the morning.

“I would, but I got to meet Lori later and I’m a little tired,” I tried to explain to him.

“I don’t want to hear that man. Take a shower, brush your teeth, throw some clothes on and meet us in thirty,” he said ignoring me then hanging up the phone. I grinned and ran my hands over my face. I had about a couple days of unshaved beard there.

Fresh air didn’t seem like a bad idea, though. They were most likely going to sit outside at their favorite table and talk for a few hours. I stood up and walked to my closet, deciding I needed to get out of the house to get my mind from all the images of Michonne.

They were everywhere.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I felt like a vampire. The sun was killing my eyes, so I put my dark black shades back on. I only ordered a coffee because I hadn't been in much of a food mood.

“So, you really trying to be a starving artist?” Daryl said, lighting up a cigarette. Daryl was the typical rocker trope. Long messy hair and wore all black all the time. he had lots of tattoos. He could notice sh*t nobody else noticed, and everyone, especially every female in a thousand miles, wanted to be around him. He played in a local band, and they were the new big thing.

“Nah, but living in this city ain’t cheap,” I told him. I risked gulping down the hot coffee to feel some immediate effect. It was a stupid idea.

“You look like hell, Rick,” Glenn said, walking outside to sit down. His girlfriend, Maggie, sat next to him. Glenn met her at the publishing company they both worked at a few years ago. Maggie now works for Teen Vogue asa Junior Editor. They were getting married in a month.

I was asked to shoot their engagement photos, and the actual wedding ceremony. Maggie and Glenn were so trendy, looking like they stepped out of a GQ magazine shoot. They fit in with New York.

I mean I fit in, too. It’s just that everyone looked so much more photogenic, and cooler compared to me. I had on my typical jeans and black t-shirt. Some sneakers. My hair looked like a shaggy dog, while theirs were always perfect.

I ran both hands over my face, stopping at my scruffy beard. “I’ve been putting a lot of time into this show. I’m done with my post-production stuff. It’s just been time consuming. I was really pushing it thinking I could get this done in two weeks. I can’t ever take the easy road. Always have to make things harder for myself.”

It was true. A conventional person would take months planning something like this. I didn’t come up with an idea until a few weeks after Lori approached me.

I sat back and stretched a little. People were walking past the little coffee shop in spurts. Yelling, loud, busy people. Laughing groups of guys. Giggling women. Crying babies. It was a typical day on my street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. It was a pretty artsy area. Pratt Institute, the art school I graduated from, wasn’t that far from here.

“How’d your shoot go? Never asked you that,” Maggie said, drinking her lemon water. I looked at her and nodded my head. Oh, it was fine. Had sex with the woman I’ve been staring at for the past ten days.

“Good. It went well. Excited to see where this thing goes. How people will respond to it,” I said, taking another big sip of my coffee. My phone vibrated on the table, and I picked it up. Lori was calling. I let it ring. She called me every day to see how far I’ve gotten with the show. Since I had that unexpected, but satisfying, afternoon with Michonne, I had only seen Lori once this past week. I planned to see her soon to discuss the arrangements for the big day.

“What you got planned for the day, Rick? You been stuck in your apartment all week. You look like a true hippie now,” Daryl said pointing to my beard. I laughed.

“Yeahhh. I gotta meet Lori to go over some things for the show. That’s why I’m not eating, by the way. We are having a late lunch,” I said to Daryl. “She is kind of a neat freak and a little crazed about this whole thing being so organic, so she just wants to micromanage. After that I don’t know,” I said to them.

We talked for another half hour before I decided to head to the subway to get to the lower east side. I really didn’t feel like doing any of this.

I just wanted to go to sleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“I’ve been bragging to my dad about your photography. Told him it’s some of the best work I’ve ever seen. I’m really excited to see what you’ve done. You had me worried wanting to shoot your show only twelve days before it opened,” Lori was going on about my talent and I was exhausted. I really was trying to stay up on the conversation. Truly. But the numbers and figures weren’t interesting to me.

“Yeah. I know. I was worried, too,” I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. We were at some upbeat chic place, don’t ask me to tell you which one,and I felt like a bum. She sipped her wine and clapped her hands together.

Lori was a big deal at the art gallery. She had an unnatural ability to see and know great works of art. She was also the daughter of a respected businessman in Manhattan, who gave her that art gallery.

We met at a house party our freshman year and dated on and off for several years. During school she started dating someone else and we drifted apart. I had hoped we could reconnect on that deeper level again, when we hooked up not too long ago.

Fortunately, she got me to show once at her gallery, and now again. She knew her dad. Her dad knew art people. Connections are everything in this town. Jobs are competitive in New York, with few to choose from. These shows were getting my name and talent out there.

Lori said that she would do all the marketing. Invite people. She liked to do all that stuff. For a little over a month, she’s been trying to get lots of people to come to the show. She liked to mingle and associate. All I wanted to do was shoot great shots.

“Have you finished? What time are you setting up on the day of the show? I think this is going to be a hit. You know, a hundred people have R.S.V.P.’d to this thing. You’ve been buzzing around town,” she said. Her hair was in a ponytail. It sort of shook as she spoke. It was warm today for April, and she had on a black suit dress. She always dresses formally for any occasion. I looked like I just rolled out of hell.

“I’ll be there early. I want to put everything up myself so it’s going to take me some hours, but I’m done,” I assured her. She grinned with expectation.

“Great, Rick,” she picked up her napkin and placed it in her lap. “If you have time we can go by the Gallery, and I can show you what I’ve done arrangements wise.”

I really don’t have time. I really just want to get back to my place, I thought.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, looking at her. She was different, I noticed as she spoke. Pearl earrings dangled from her ear; her long brown hair was in a slick ponytail. She was completely different from the carefree Lori I knew in Art School. She was more focused and determined. A fast talker and walker. It was hard to keep up with her now.

We finished our lunch and headed to the Art Gallery. I have to admit, Lori did a great job with the setup. It wasn’t much else to it until I put my work up. We headed out of the building and started to walk downtown Manhattan. The city that never sleeps.

About ten minutes later I ran into someone I wasn’t expecting to see. It was Michonne. She was walking down the sidewalk with a book bag on her back. Also, in her hands was a folded piece of paper. When she looked up and saw me, she did a double take. A grin crossed her face.

“Rick? What’s up?” she said looking at me then at Lori. Lori had her arm entangled in mine. It looked like we were together, which technically we’re not. Michonne had no clue about that though.

“Michonne,” I said, just as surprised. “You live in Manhattan?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“Nah. I’m from Brooklyn. Was here for a friend’s spoken word show. It’s supposed to be around here somewhere,” she said looking around. Her locs swung a little as she tried to figure out if she was close by. All I could think about was ten days ago when we f*cked.

She looked good in whatever she wore apparently. Today it was some cut up jean's shorts, her thighs looked smooth enough that I wanted to touch her, just to see if I was right. The t-shirt she wore had Lauryn Hill on it and was tied into a knot on the side. Some black and white Chucks completed the look.

Lori cleared her throat a couple of times and I looked at her. Did I forget she was there?

“Rick? You’re not going to introduce me to your friend?” Lori asked me. I knew that voice of hers. It was a false sweet. I felt bad because I really forgot she was there. It’s not like I had on purpose. I just wasn’t expecting to see Michonne right now.

“Lori this is Michonne. She is the art student from Pratt who modeled for me,” I said to her. Lori smiled even more and stuck out her hand.

“Well, hello. It’s so nice to meet you. You're the one who saved the show. If it wasn't for you agreeing to do it, we would be scrambling right now. We nearly were,” Lori explained with sincerity, taking Michonne’s hand. Michonne gave her the most gorgeous smile, and I wanted to kiss her right there. That would definitely be the most awkward thing you could do in your life.

“Nice to meet you too, Lori.” Michonne said, still smiling. I wonder what she was thinking. Did she think Lori and I were together? Did she care? Why the hell would she care? “The building is over there, so I guess I’ll leave you two for your day. I’m sooo late,” she said to us, looking at her phone. She looked up at me and smiled. “It was nice seeing you again, Rick,” and walked towards the direction of the building.

“Well, she’s just gorgeous. Is she a model or an art student?” Lori asked me. I heard what she was saying, but I still focused on Michonne. She had this effortless look about her. Like nothing ever made her worry.

“Just an art student. She’s never done anything professional until me,” I said to Lori. I caught Lori staring at her, too, as she walked in the building she searched for earlier.

“Well, she should model. I know a couple of people if she is ever interested. Let her know that next time you see her,” she said as we walked towards the curb to hail a cab. When it arrived, she turned around and wedged herself between me and the door.

“You wanna come by my place. I've changed some stuff around. Got new sheets,” she said with a sexy smirk.

No, not really. “Tonight'snot a good night. I've been trying to catch up on some sleep and still have some last-minute touches to the show,” I said to her. It was all true. I really needed some rest. As tempting as the offer sounded, I needed some sleep.

She looked disappointed. A pouty looked crossed her lips. But she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and told me goodbye, hopping into her cab. “Raincheck, then?” she said before she closed the door.

“Pencil me in,” I said to her half-jokingly. She grinned and I closed her door. I waved goodbye and tapped the side of the cab. As it drove off, I pulled out my phone.

I wanted to see what time it was. Subconsciously, I looked through my contacts and landed on Michonne's name. I was tired. I really was. I wasn't lying to Lori when I said I was, but I saw Michonne and thought there would be no harm in going to the place she just went. It was open to the public. Why not? After I said Hey one more time, and asked her how she’s been, I would go home.

Yep, that's the plan.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They told me I would be free from my plight.

But my scars hide beneath my epidermis...

Out of sight

Deep wounds from centuries of hate and stress

Pollute the world from reaching greatness!

I walked into the club-like place. It was a jazz club that had this poetry open mic night. There was an assortment of people there. I saw several older couples as well as some college looking crowds. I leaned up against the wall and took in the atmosphere. There was definitely no smoking allowed, but I definitely smelled marijuana.

Tell me to be humble,

While they constantly see me struggle.

Keep me inside a little bubble.

I heard the person on the mic saying. She was a black woman with really curly hair. Her movements were expressive, and she spoke like Michonne, with her hands. She went on for a few minutes before she ended her selection. The crowd applauded when she did.

“Thanks guys. Thanks for coming out to support all of these artists. It's not easy to express yourself in front of some of the coolest people in New York, but you guys are the best,” the woman said, clapping her hands for the patrons.

“Now, I want to bring to the stage my dear best friend. This is her first time at open mic and you guys are in for a treat. Please help me in bringing up my sistah, Michonnnneeee,” said the woman who waited for Michonne to walk on the stage.

I was surprised. I wasn't expecting her to be on stage. Now I had to stay and watch the show. She looked amazing. A shy smile crossed her face, as her friend stepped out the way. The smoky ambiance gave way to Michonne as she cleared her throat. She was the only person in the room for me at the moment. All of my attention was on her.

She stepped up to the mic and lifted it up. “Thanks, Sasha. Hello, everyone. Thanks for letting me share my words with you. I feel it's important we let go of whatever is inside of us. Even if you don't happen to care, you at least know how I feel. This is called “I Told Myself.” She opened up a piece of paper and held it up as she spoke.

I told myself I wasn't going to fall again.

That I wasn't going to

Fall

Into the trap of a man's eyes again.

Brown open

windows into a soul of peace. At least that's what they tell me.

They'll lie and say I'm the one. That I'm the only one who gets to go into that window. That I'm the only one who could climb into their mind and know their deepest thoughts.

But I realized

those windows were doors, and everyone could just walk into them,

and

I'd be the one locked out.

Now, I'm threatened again by some blue windows. Clearer and Pure.

I told myself I wouldn't fall again.

But I'm just going to brace myself,

For the plunge.

The room was silent for a while. Longer than I would have liked if it was me up there. But everyone stood up and started clapping. It was beautiful how she delivered it. She was sad but hopeful, and I was mesmerized by her. So was the crowd.

Her friend got back on the mic holding her arms up and clapping. “Y’all give it up for my best motherf*cking friend, Michonnnneee. Come on you guys. She did the damn thing.” The friend kept clapping and Michonne looked bashful.

Moments later the woman started talking again and Michonne walked off stage. I followed her through the crowd towards a little table she sat down at. You should be getting sleep, Grimes. Didn't you tell Lori that? Yeah, but what harm was coming from speaking to Michonne for ten minutes. I waited until a few people walked away from her before I approached.

“This seat taken?” I said with a small grin. Michonne looked at me and was completely shocked. She looked like she saw a ghost.

“Rick? Were you here the entire time?” she asked me. I kissed her cheek and sat in the other chair at the table. Her skin was soft against my lips. I wanted to run them down her neck and lower.

“No. Not the entire time. Saw your friend, then you,” I said looking at her. I couldn't take in how beautiful she was.

“You saw me? Oh, God,” she said, covering her face. “The entire thing?” she asked me. I took her hands from her face and held them in my hand.

“You were great. I liked it. I'm not really great at poetry and stuff, but I was moved. Your delivery was great. The audience was into you,” I said, trying to calm her nerves. She seemed relieved after I said that.

“Okay, yeah. Thanks. Have to be honest. I was not expecting you to be here at all. When I saw you with your girlfriend, I felt weird. I feel really foolish for coming onto you the way I did that day,” she said, pulling her hands from me.

I grabbed them again. “I don't have a girlfriend,” I told her. She co*cked her head to the side like she didn't believe me.

“Does that woman named Lori know that? Cause she sure seemed like your girlfriend,” Michonne said looking at me. I shook my head.

“She’s a friend. Not my girlfriend. We graduated together,” I tried to explain to her, but she wasn't believing any of it. Just then her friend walked up waving her hand like a fan over her face.

“Michonne, you rocked the house, girl. Everyone wants you to come back next week.” She turned around, fanning herself more. “Ughhh, why is it so f*cking hot in here?” she said, talking to herself mostly. When she focused on me, she held her hand out.

“I'm Sasha. Michonne’s best friend,” she said, shaking my hand. “You go to the art school with Michonne? You didn't tell me you invited someone,” she said looking at Michonne.

Michonne shook her head. “Nah, Sash. He’s the guy I modeled for two weeks ago. We ran into each other outside before I got here,” Michonne explained. Sasha’s eyebrows raised so high, I thought they would pop off her head.

“Wellllll, hello, Mr. Photographer,” she said in a sexy voice. Michonne hit her arm and Sasha ignored her. I grinned because I figured she told Sasha what happened between us.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Rick,” I said, holding my hand out.

“Yes, you are, honey,” she said, still looking at me. I saw Michonne kick her foot and then Sasha looked at her.

“Well, let me get back to my hosting duties. You gonna stick around, Rick. Make sure me and my girl get back home safe?” she said to me.

“Yeah. I can do that,” I said looking at Michonne. She blushed and turned her head towards Sasha.

“Their done girl. Get onstage,” Michonne said a bit annoyed. Sasha laughed and walked away, and I couldn't take my eyes off of Michonne.

“It'll only be another thirty minutes. You can leave if you want. I know you probably have somewhere to be,” she said seemingly concerned.

“I'm good. We both live in Brooklyn. I can wait,” I told her, grabbing her hand. When she smiled, God, I wanted her.I wanted to take her in some corner and f*ck the sh*t out of her. But there was a time and place for that.

Right now, I’d settle for hanging out with her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We rode the subway. There was only standing room right now at 6:00pm. Sasha seemed to want to ask me a bunch of questions and Michonne just looked on laughing at her friend.

“You pay a lot of women to model for you?” Sasha asked. I knew I was turning red. I felt it. She made it seem like I was a pimp or something.

I laughed at her. I could tell she was a joker. “Nah. Michonne is the first. I had to dish out money cause it was so last minute. It was worth it. I got some good shots,” I said looking directly at Michonne. We were standing across from each other holding onto the pole in the center of the train.

My fingers grazed her hand and she looked at it. Her eyes went hazy. It made me think back to that day. The way her skin felt… hot to the touch. The way her eyelids fluttered as I entered her.

“Y’all coming to the show in two days?” I asked them. Sasha looked at Michonne and then at me.

“Yeah. Oh, I’m definitely coming now. Michonne mentioned it, but she didn't say when it was. But I got an official invite from the Photographer himself,” Sasha said with a big smile. She looked ahead and noticed where we were.

“My stop is coming up,” Sasha said as I saw the platform. She smiled when she saw two girls waving.

“You sure you don't want to get drinks with us. Tara and Rosita feel like you've been ditching the group,” Sasha said as people started to exit. Michonne shook her head.

“Tell them I'm finishing a painting and I'm in a zone. Why didn't they come to the club?” Michonne asked her.

“Abraham problems,” Sasha said. I had no clue what was going on, only that I was staring at Michonne the entire time.

“I got y’all next time and tell Rosita I’ll call her about that,” she said, giving her a hug and waving at the two women on the platform. They waved again and Sasha joined them. They all started to hoot and holler and Michonne looked really embarrassed.

“Rowdy girls,” I said to her. She nodded her head as a new group of riders started to swarm around us. I wrapped my free arm around Michonne, pulling her close so no one bumped into her. Our eyes met.

“Yeah, they’re a loud bunch,” she said, not trying to push up on me. The growing crowd only pressed us closer together.

“You stay near Pratt?” I asked her. That was the art school. She nodded her head. I lived two stops before her. I would have to double back, but I wanted to get her to her place.

“Okay, we’ll get off at the closest stop,” I told her. Her lips weren’t that far now. A low bend of my head would have me kissing her on this train, feeling the soft insides of her lips against mine, but she just seemed so uncomfortable.

“I’m not a mind reader. What’s on your mind?” I said lightly. She smiled and looked up at me. I know I made a big fuss about her talking to me, but it was my turn to look away. I turned back when I realized what the problem could be.

“Do you want me to let you go? Sorry, I just....You feel good in my arms,” Did you just say that sh*t out loud? I did because she looked up at me with those brown eyes. Those long lashes. We bumped into each other as we rode the train, both of us still holding onto the pole and each other. She seemed to melt before my very eyes. She was soft, sensual. Sexy as f*ck and I wanted to know more than I did. I wanted to know who Michonne was.

“No, you don’t have to. This is fine,” she said nonchalantly. Her voice was nonchalant. Her eyes and her lips told me something completely different. She wanted this. At least that’s what I thought, but when she smiled at me, I knew. Without a doubt I knew.

It was hot in the subway. Add all of these bodies in this tight space and it got even hotter. I wiped the sweat from her forehead. She ran her hand through my hair. I liked when she did that. Felt comforting. Familiar. Like she was the only person who knew how to calm me. I twisted a loc of hers around my finger. I couldn’t stop looking at her, and I had been looking at her for ten days straight. Didn’t realize how much I missed her until I had her actually around me.

My hand was still at the tiniest part of her back. Just above her round ass. I slowly rubbed my hand in a circle there and she closed her eyes. She looked like all the stress that may have been inside of her was slowly escaping. She seemed comfortable around me again.

“It’s still early. Wanna grab a hot dog. My treat,” I suggested to her. She agreed and we rode the remainder of the way just like that. Looking at each other. I don’t know what it was about her.

But she was something.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“What are you working on?” I asked as we ate our hot dogs. The sky was clear today. People were still out late in the evening. Back home in King County folks would be heading in for the evening for dinner.

“Like you, I like to be very organic. I draw from a bunch of sources of inspiration. Colors. Mainly a series of lines. Right now, I’m working with slashes of red. It looks like I’ve murdered someone in my apartment,” she said with a big smile.

“For an assignment at school?” I asked her and she nodded her head. She was smart. Very smart. I knew that when I first met her, but it was clearer now. The thing about artists is that everyone thinks they are the greatest. Everyone says they are the next Dali or Picasso. That their work is better than Ernest Hemingway or that they are more diverse, brilliant actor than Marlon Brando.

But honestly, out of the millions of people in the city, only a few really have it. And she got that. She realized that she may not be the greatest, but maybe she could teach someone else to be great. Give them the basics to succeed.

“So that’s why I want to teach art. I love working with the kids at the center and it’s fulfilling. I get to paint, which I’m pretty good at, but I don’t know if my big break will ever come from it. Look at me rambling on and on. I tend to do that sometimes,” she said, balling up her napkin. I held out my hand to take it from her and threw our trash away. We were close to her place. The sun was still up, but it was getting later in the day.

Those four hours of sleep were starting to get to me. People were still moving about; a line of bicyclists rode past us. A young couple was walking their baby.

“It suits you, teaching. Shaping minds. Who knows. Maybe you can model. My friend Lori seems to think you should talk to someone she knows.” Michonne let out a huff of disbelief, but I only was telling the truth.

“I’m for real. First thing she said to me before she went home.” You forgot to mention the part where you ditched her to see what Michonne was up to.

“Yeah. Yeah. Well, I have to get this assignment done. I would invite you to my place, but I need to put all my attention to my work,” she said. She was like me in a way.

I didn’t really know where we stood in the kissing department, so I grabbed her hand and rubbed the tips of her fingers. "Are you coming to the show in a couple of days? Please come,” I said looking at her. I bent down a little at her eye level and gave her my best smile. It got her to blush.

“A lot of people are going to be there?” she asked with trepidation. Yes, at least 100, Lori said.

“Not sure. Some of my friends are coming. Lori really planned all of that stuff so, yeah, I’m not sure,” I lied...but not in a big way. She still seemed hesitant.

“And, you know, Lori. She’s not going to be weirded out that I’m there?” she asked me. She still thought Lori was my girlfriend. I mean we did what we did, but there was never a title. Nothing that kept us official.

“No, we’re not like that. She’s just a friend. That’s it. It doesn’t really matter because the show features you. You're the art.” I looked at her until she decided if she wanted to go or not. When she nodded her head, I let out a little breath of relief. I really wanted her to be there. I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. She surprised me by moving my face with the tips of her fingers, they lightly grazed the hair there.

Our eyes met for seconds. Mine began looking at little details of her face over. Details I had etched in my mind from the hours of editing her photos. Days I spent locked in my place trying to get this show done. Her locs that always seemed to outline her face. Her sultry eyes. Her cheekbones were high and made her look regal. The fullness of her lips made me think back to when I kissed them so long ago. How I made her scream from my touch.

She was looking me over, too. Long gazes that weren’t that long at all, then she stepped in closer and kissed me. The softness of her lips took me by surprise. How much I missed the taste of her. The way she let out a little moan as I pulled her closer into me. The smell of her was flooding my senses now. I pressed my tongue against her lips, trying to part them to taste her even more.

The kiss this time was more certain. We didn’t play around with each other. I needed her kiss. After this stressful week, it was the only thing that made sense to me. I became addicted to the feel of her lips against me. I pressed my lips harder against hers, crushing them somehow. My hand grabbed her ass, and I didn’t care who saw it.

When I pulled away from her, I took a deep breath. I needed to calm my ass down, because if she kissed me again, I was going to take her upstairs and f*ck the hell out of her. But I could only look at her.

“You know. You’re like my muse. Once I get some of you, I feel like I can do anything,” I told her. She just smiled at me. Maybe she was just as stunned as I was right now. My heart was beating fast. My dick was getting hard.

“You’re different,” she said walking towards the front door of her apartment.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked her with a smile on my face. Her face was dreamy; a come f*ck me look crossed it. She was so sexy.

“I haven’t decided yet?” She looked at me. “Shave your beard for the show,” she said then walked away. I ran a hand over my face as I watched her walk into her brownstone, eventually leaving to catch a cab. I didn’t know what I was getting into. What I was going to get from this whole thing.

But I knew I wanted to see.

Chapter 3: All Good Things

Chapter Text

All Good Things

I splashed water over my face as I looked in the mirror. I thought I’d get a haircut but decided not to. I was, however, going to shave this beard off on Michonne's suggestion. She was right. I was already a starving artist. I didn’t want to go in there tonight looking like a homeless artist either.

Once I finished shaving, I went to my phone to see if I had any messages. My mom texted me wishing me good luck. My dad was sick. Maybe. Who knows. My mom decided it was best if she stayed with dad to help him out. I hit my mom’s contact name to give her a call.

“Hello,” she said when she answered. Her voice was cheery. She was always pretty happy in general.

“Hey Ma,” I said back. She let out an exaggerated gasp.

“Well, lord. My son didn’t text me back. He actually called his mom. I need to go play the lottery,” she said, teasing me.

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re so funny, Ma. So funny,” I said with a grin. She laughed like a southern belle and started to speak again.

“How’s my baby doing? You ready for your big bite tonight? I’m so happy for you. I really am. I know your dad wanted you to go in the direction of the family way, but I knew you weren’t a cop. I saw your talent when you were younger. The things you could do with a polaroid,” she said to me.

A memory flashed in my mind. Me at 10 years old taking polaroid shots of my mom and dad, sitting in their recliners as they watched Wheel of Fortune. They were always laughing. Always happy. I had a great childhood. My teenage years, not so much.

My dad wanted me to be a cop. Always did. It wasn’t like it was tradition, but my uncle was a sheriff. My dad was a sheriff. I have a sister, Melissa, who is older than me. She ended up being the cop. I’m a photographer. You can imagine how that makes my dad feel.

“I’m good. Really nervous. Feel like I’m going to throw up,” I said to her.

“You let all that out dear,” she said in her southern tone. “You are amazing, Rick. Your next big show I’m coming to. Hell, or high water. If it wasn’t for your dad having a cold I would have come. I love you, Rick,” she said. I was glad I called my mom. She made things better.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m going to call you later and let you know how it went. Tell Dad I love him, and I hope he feels better. I love you, Mom.” I said before hanging up. He probably wasn’t sick and just didn’t want to come and support. It didn’t matter.

That thought made me a little upset. If he didn't want to come, cool. He shouldn't have stopped mom from coming. I looked at my phone and saw I had another message. It was from Michonne.

Michonne: Sorry. Hate to bother you. What time is the show tonight? And is there a certain dress code? Like, what are you wearing? Are you doing your jeans and t-shirt thingy? Or are you wearing a suit?

I smiled. I decided to call her, too. She picked up after a couple of rings.

“Hey Rick,” she said in her cute soft voice.

“Hey, Michonne,” I said back.

“You didn’t have to call. You could have text. I know you’re getting ready and all that,” Michonne said like she was surprised I called her.

I wasn’t hounding her with texts and phone calls. She wasn’t doing the same with me. I have to admit, it made me think about her more. I wondered what she was doing and who she was with. I found myself thinking about her a lot.

“I wanted to hear your voice. Your good luck,” I said to her. Real f*cking smooth, Grimes. Real smooth. I could hear a small light chuckle escape her. I imagined she was smiling from ear to ear. I wish I could see it. “To answer your question, the show starts at 6...which really means it starts at 7, and most people won’t show til 8,” I said grinning.

“That’s helpful,” she said back. “What time should I show up?” she asked specifically.

“8- ish sounds ideal to me. Not too early, not too late. There still may be a lot of food around that time. There’s an open bar so drinks all night,” I forgot she was only 20. “Oh, yeah you can’t drink,” I said to her.

“Nope, not at all,” she said, agreeing with me. I sat down on my bed and laid back looking at my ceiling. I still had my towel wrapped around my waist. I was about to hop in the shower.

“Have you ever had a drink before...beer, wine?” I asked her.

“Maybe...you a Narc or something?” she asked me.

“Yep. I’m undercover as a photographer who throws art shows. My soul intentions are catching beautiful underage women drinking,” I said with a smirk. She started laughing.

“I knew it. I knew it. My answer is no. I’ve never had a single beer or glass of wine in my life,” she said as laughter escaped her again. I could tell she was lying.

“Good answer,” I said to her. I liked talking to her, even if it was about nothing. “As far as the dress code, I’m doing my jeans and t-shirt thingy with a blazer. It’s up to you I suppose. I think Lori wanted it to be dressy, so I guess that’s what it is,” I explained to her.

“Oh, okay. Well, I should let you go and get prepared for the night. I'll call Sasha and let her know what to wear,” she paused for a moment then spoke again. “I’ll see you later. I'm looking forward to the show,” she said softly. Her voice made me so happy.

“Okay, Michonne. I'll see you later,” I said before she hung up. I kept the phone to my ear for a second. My phone started ringing again against my ear and scared the sh*t out of me. It was Lori calling.

“Hey Lori, what’s up?” I asked her, hopping out of bed. I took my towel off and turned my shower on.

“I sent the driver to your house to help pick up the pictures. Did you wrap them in bubble wrap?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I responded simply. It wasn’t like she was annoying me, but she was. It wasn’t like she was nagging me...but she kind of was. It bugged me that she was bugging me, because I liked Lori. She was a cool girl.

But you’ve been thinking about Michonne for days, said this voice in my mind. It was true, but I thought it was just because we had sex recently. Not to mention I’ve immersed myself in her photos. Plus, the other day we kissed. Of course, I’ve been thinking about her. Who wouldn’t?

“Okay, well I’ll meet you there when you get to the gallery. I have a lot to do as far as the party planning stuff, so I won’t be in your way. You work your magic, and I’ll see you soon,” she said to me. I said goodbye to her and hung up the phone. Moments later I hopped in the shower.

I just had this little feeling; tonight was going to be crazy.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All of a sudden, I was eating food like I was pregnant. Every tray that passed by me I pulled a sample: a plate of shrimp, meatballs, some crab tasting thing. Just everything. I was so nervous, and eating was the only thing settling my nerves right now.

Lori was around the place somewhere, being the hostess she was. She had on a white dress and black heels. Her hair was in her customary tight ponytail, and she had on some nice makeup…pink lipstick smeared her lips. She looked good tonight.

But I couldn’t help but look for Michonne. It was 8:30 and she was nowhere in sight. Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl were running late. Eventually, all of them walked in around the same time. Nobody was ever on time in this city.

“Y’all made it,” I said walking up to them.

“Yeah, man. It was hell getting here,” Glenn said to me.

“It’s cool. Bar is over there; waiters have serving trays. The pictures are on display. Start at the door then work your way around the room” I said, picking up little programs that had a description of each picture by it.

The pictures were super bright. I think I made the background a starker white than the white walls she shot against, but I wanted all of Michonne to pop in each frame. It almost seemed 3D.

The show started out in color. In one picture her arms crossed like she was a ballerina as she bent over, her locs hitting the floor. A little smile crossed her face, in one. In the next shot, she wasn’t so happy. Like a lot was on her mind. The weight of the world rested on her shoulders. They were series that appeared in three, and you had to go to another part of the room to see more of the story.

The next set was when she sat on the floor. This was when she spoke the most about love. It was the happiest she looked, but for one second, I caught her at her saddest. At her most vulnerable. The colors were muted in that shot, starting to fade. She looked up in thought, like she wanted to believe what she was telling me, but it wasn’t the truth, and it pained her, but then she went back to smiling.

The third part of the story was when she was the saddest, I think. A sepia tone covered the shots. It was that moment when she was completely naked, standing by the window, looking out. It was the only time I didn’t talk to her. The only time she was alone with her thoughts as I stood there. She was naked, in front of the window, exposed. But you could see her hiding so much. See how pained she was about something. Shadows from the windowpane covered her.

The fourth part of the picture story was her putting on that plaid shirt. She covered up her exposure, but now she was afraid. Afraid of her own thoughts. The series ended with her on my bed looking towards the white wall. Staring at nothing, but the reflection the light made against it. Her shadow on the wall, too, staring away.

They were little glimpses of her. Little moments of time that I stole from her that kind of told a story. It was all very classy. She was naked but it was mostly side angles, showcasing the curvature of her ass. The small rise of her breasts. I chose shots where she was mostly covered. A story of one’s thoughts as they undress through their lovers' eyes. It all turned out better than I expected.

So far, I only had positive reception. From my choice of color story to the actual story itself, it was good to hear.

And Michonne was nowhere in sight to see what a hit she was. I was nervous about what Lori would think, but she loved the photos. LOVED them. That’s kind of why she was not around. She was trying to get as much feedback as possible.

“A f*cking hit, Rick. It’s a hit. You did a great job, again. I saw a woman crying over there. She was crying, Rick. Boy, I was so worried you weren’t going to be able to pull it off again, but I’m eating my words now. This show is A-maz-ing,” she said going on and on. I had a co*ke and rum in my hand. I thought it could calm me down, but I felt…angry.

Not to sound like a little sh*t or anything, but I was kind of upset that she had so little faith in me. I thought she understood my work ethic. That when I put my mind to something, I was able to get it done. That’s what she always liked about me...that I made a way out of no way.

“Thanks, Lori. I worked really hard on this one,” I told her looking around. Still no Michonne.

“Come say a few words to everyone. Thank them for coming to the show. You know the whole spiel,” she said, taking my hand to go to a better location to give the speech.

The room was well-lit, much like my studio with large white walls. Sconce lighting over each of my paintings highlighted them to perfection. Happy, drunk patrons circled around listening to light, boring, elevator type music. It was a good opening night.

“Excuse me. Ladies and Gentlemen,” Lori said, trying to get everyone’s attention. I want to thank you for coming to the Art gallery today. I want you to hear a few words from the photographer who made this masterpiece of a show,” she said, urging me forward. I hated speaking in public. Hated it. Lori knew this, but always insisted I show my appreciation.

I was about to speak until I saw Michonne. She walked in the front door with Sasha and they both paused when they saw me standing there. My mouth may have popped open when I saw her. It had to because she looked...f*cking great.

Her locs were curly, big ringlets of dark curls everywhere. She was dressed up. More dressed up than I had seen her ever before. You’ve seen her naked, Grimes. And I got that, but seeing her like this, it did something for me.

Her black dress looked like it was plastered to her. Even from here I could see her nipples were hard, poking through the fabric. Her red stained lips made me sweat because I wanted to walk right up to her and kiss her. It was definitely something I enjoyed doing the other night. I swallowed hard and looked around the audience.

“Thank y’all for coming to my show. Lori said it was going to be a crowd, and I should have believed her... knowing her,” everyone started to laugh. They must've known Lori well.

“Anyway, just really...thanks for coming to see the show. It happened haphazardly but it’s something I'm really proud of. The show is called Glimpse into my Lover’s mind, and you see the show through my perspective. I know most of you have seen it earlier, and read the program, but look at it as much as you want. I'm humbled by this moment in time,” I said looking throughout the audience.

My eyes darted back on Michonne. Everything about her was drawing my attention over there. I needed to get to her but there were so many people wanting to talk to me. I interrupted them before they got too loud.

“The model I was blessed with is right there. I hope she doesn’t mind me pointing her out, but she really inspired me to do some challenging, thought-provoking stuff. I barely know her, but I feel like I know her,” I said looking right at her. Our eyes connected and it was the scariest f*cking feeling I ever felt come over me.

Everyone followed my line of vision and recognized Michonne. Lots of applause started. I know I made her completely uncomfortable, but all of this was because of her. And she had no idea why everyone was so in love with her.

I did.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Your body is banging, Chonne. Definite body goals. These are my favorites of you,” I overheard Sasha tell her, snapping her fingers in time.

“Strange thing is, I just broke up with Jonathan that week. Maybe it was when I thought about the breakup that he caught me looking like this. I don't know. The shots are beautiful, though. They're just stunning,” I overheard Michonne say. She just broke up with someone. I walked up to her and touched her lower back. The fabric of the dress was thin. So thin I could feel the heat from her body coming off of her.

“You made it,” I said to her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She always smelled so good. So damn good. I was really happy to see her. Her constant stare was on me as she turned around to speak.

“Yeah, I made it. I had on some shorts and a t-shirt with these red heels and Sasha cursed me the f*ck out and said I had to be flyer than that, so this is what took so long,” she said holding up her arms to showcase herself.

If she knew me well, she’d known I had already checked her out. On sight. She had on some strappy red heels. They made her almost eye level with me.

“Yes, Chonne. You couldn't come in here like that. That's why I’m your best friend cause I'm here to look after you,” she said waving to me and then looking at the pictures once more.

“You always look great.” I leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “Always,” I emphasized.

Her grin was wide, bright. It made her entire face light up. I got caught up in looking at her…taking her in. Those red lips were teasing me. I touched her cheek lightly, remembering how soft her skin was; remembering that kiss we shared the other night. Her eyes were locked to mine. Just then Lori walked up and gave Michonne a big hug.

“You, my darling, are a star. I've had a lot of successful magazine people here who want your info. They are dying to shoot you. I'm talking about Elle, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. Do you have a portfolio or other work?” Lori shot at her. Michonne looked confused.

“What you see on the wall is my portfolio,” Michonne told her with a quizzical look.

“Yeah, Lori. She's not a professional model. I told you that,” I said as Lori tried to usher Michonne away.

“We’ll be right back,” Lori said. Michonne looked back like she was about to face a scary firing squad. I was pissed because I spent maybe five minutes with her. Daryl walked up towards me as they walked off.

“Who's this?” he asked. Sasha was still beside me looking at the photo set. When Daryl asked again, holding out his hand, she turned towards him.

“Oh, you're talking about me. I'm Sasha,” she said sticking her hand out.

Daryl took off his sunglasses and looked her over quickly. Sasha wasn't a bad looking woman either. She had on a red mini skirt and a sparkly gold top. Sequins I'm guessing…I don’t know, and her curly hair was strategically curled all over.

“Daryl,” he said simply. He was cool as sh*t. All he did was say “Daryl” and she was already a mess. Giggling like a schoolgirl.

“You probably get this a lot, but you look like the bassist from that band, Cherokee Rose,” she said, stepping in front of me to talk to Daryl. He smiled and took a swig of his drink.

“That’s me. You know my band?” he asked, moving closer, as well. I felt like a f*cking third wheel.

“Yes. You guys are always playing spots in Manhattan. Pop up shows. I'm in literally every club scene. I do a lot of hosting for lots of different venues,” she started to explain. I began to tune them out.

Honestly, I was looking forward to talking to Michonne, walking her through the photos, but Lori scooped her up and was hogging her.

Michonne seemed to fit in. She mingled with all of those editors and magazine execs. I sat around the bar, drinking another rum and co*ke. The sweet drink coated my lips as I drank my third cup of it.

Michonne was beautiful. Even with twelve large pictures of her circling around me, I still could only look at the real thing. How she sauntered around with Lori on her arm, laughing at stupid jokes, I wanted to hear what made her so happy.

“The show is amazing, man. The model you used is beautiful. Her facial expressions. I can't believe you got all this done in 12 days, man. Lori would have been Stuck like Chuck if it was me,” Glenn said, getting a shot of Vodka.

“Yeah. She didn't think I could get it done, but I did,” I told him, still a bit bummed by that fact.

“f*cking good job, man. It's going to pay off. Remember me when you're traveling to Paris and London, shooting 6ft tall models,” Glenn said grinning. I smiled back at him.

“Thanks, man,” I said, turning around and patting his back. He kept talking to me.

“You are so lucky. Can’t find one professional model willing to take your offer. None of the other art students felt comfortable doing this. And then you get her. Luck is on your side,” Glenn said, taking the shot of vodka. He grimaced and asked for another.

“All good things to those who wait, my friend,” I said, taking a swig of my own drink. “Or something like that.”

Glenn nodded his head. “That’s how I got Maggie,” he turned around and looked at his wife in her Black pants suit, and long chandelier-like earrings. She recently cut her hair into a short style, a Bob she said. Maggie was big into fashion and happened to be a junior editor for teenVogue.

“You didn’t tell me you had the next Iman, Rick. That girl is gorgeous. Look at Lori. Already trying to peddle her off to Marie Claire. Rick, you have to introduce me to this girl,” Maggie insisted.

“I will Maggie. In some time,” I said, looking around for her. She was surrounded by a group of men with Lori at the helm of the ship. All of them were talking to Michonne and she was just laughing, tossing her head back and showing them her creamy neck. They were soaking up everything about her.

Her legs were definitely on display. As well as her chest. The way her ass looked in that dress was a story of its own. The guys were looking at her like I was looking at her…like she was dessert. I decided I wanted to know what the f*cking conversation was about. I tossed back my drink, mumbling something to Glenn and headed over.

“Hey everyone,” I said, joining the circle. I f*cking hated being in the mix, but I didn’t like Michonne over here by herself. Why?

“Rick, my dad was just telling Michonne how much he enjoyed her in your work,” Lori said looking at me. She looked to her right where her dad, Anderson, and Michonne were.

The older man who was balding and had sort of a beer belly, well champagne belly because he was so f*cking rich, was standing close to Michonne…right next to her...all in her space.

“I’m thinking about buying the collection for myself,” he said looking her over.

I wanted to f*cking vomit. I’m pretty sure that’s how my face looked. It was gross the way he was looking at her.

“Really?” Dirty bastard. “That would be a nice gesture on your part,” I said, trying to be respectful. I was definitely trying not to punch him in his stupid, blotchy, red face.

I also want to add that I’m a bit drunk right now, so, yeah.

“Seeing this face and body on my walls everyday would be a treat,” he said, looking her over again. I balled my fist up but flexed it out again. If he said something else disgusting, I was going to punch him.

“You did good work, Grimes. Damn good work. My daughter was right about your talent,” he said, extending his hand to me. I shook it just for general purposes. Didn’t want to upset Lori. After all, he funded everything for the venue. I just covered the cost of materials.

“Thanks, Sir. Glad everyone is seeing my potential,” I said with a fake ass smile. Lori somehow sensed the tension and started talking again.

“Michonne tells us she is a painter. I would love to see your work sometime,” Lori asked of her. Her father agreed saying she should show him some of her work, too. He took his arm and wrapped it around her waist, slowly rubbing her stomach. Michonne looked uncomfortable. Alright, enough of this sh*t, Grimes.

“Excuse me, Lori. Everyone.” I didn’t look at her dad. “I don’t think Michonne has even seen the show. Have you seen the whole thing?” I asked, looking her way. She shook her head. I couldn’t take my f*cking eyes off of hers and I really didn’t want to. I reached over and grabbed her hand.

“Well, let me show you why everyone has been falling in love with you,” I said, walking her through a crowd quickly in the opposite direction. I looked back at Michonne and she was laughing. I grinned as I took her to the back of the gallery near the restrooms. There was a little corner off to the side and I pulled her over there, kissing her. My lips crushed hers and I pulled her closer into me. She moaned a little, and slowly pulled away from me.

“Sorry. I’m drunk. Lori’s dad is a f*cking douche. He had no right. I had to get you out of there...sor-” I started to say but she grabbed my face and kissed me.

“Thank you,” she said before kissing my lips slowly again. I grabbed her ass with both of my hands, pulling her against my hard dick. Her hands were flat against my chest, grabbing at the thin fabric of my black t-shirt. She licked my chin when she pulled away again. “You shaved,” she said, rubbing her warm fingertips over my face.

I chuckled. “Yes. It was getting itchy. Plus, you suggested that I cut it off,” I said, licking her throat then looking at her again. Every memory from that first time was hovering over me. She looked at me through half-lidded eyes.

“I did. Didn’t I?” she said, kissing the side of my mouth. I wanted to pull her closer to me, but she was as close as she could get. I f*cking needed her. I needed to f*ck her somewhere. It was all I could think about.

“This opening had turned into the Michonne show,” I said, kissing her collarbone. She held onto me, as I pressed against her.

“Sorry,” she said through heavy breaths. Someone walked out of one of the bathrooms and we paused for a moment, waiting for them to leave. I kissed her neck when the coast was clear.

“Nah, I’m not mad. Everyone wants you now….but I have you. When I saw you tonight, I knew I needed you. I need you right now, Michonne,” I husked out. I stuck my hand between her legs.

I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have looked in her eyes like I did, either. Her mouth slowly opened as I slid my fingers between her folds, massaging her cl*t. She looked around really quick, then closed her eyes. She covered her mouth when I slipped two fingers inside of her warm, wet puss*. My dick was rock hard right now.

“I need this, Michonne. I need this,” I told her over and over again, as my fingers moved inside of her. Nothing else was on my mind but her. She opened her eyes and looked around.

“There is a supply room over there,” she said, kissing my cheek. Her lips dragged across my face and hot air burned a trail.

“Come on,” I said, guiding her slightly as I walked us toward the door. I pinned her against it, as she fumbled for the doorknob, finally able to turn it to let us in.

“I need you so f*cking bad,” I said fumbling with my belt and zipper. It was dark in the room, aside from the little bit of light that came in from the hallway, but I didn’t need much light. I just needed to be in her wetness.

I grabbed her from behind and kissed her neck, lifting the back of her dress up as I rubbed my dick over her ass. I turned her to face me as I bent down on my knees, parting her legs as she stood in front of me. My tongue searched for her creamy center. There was a low, sexy moan that escaped her. Shock and awe mixed with her breaths while she nearly melted against my tongue, shivering as I lapped over her.

I flicked my tongue over her cl*t, and she pushed my head deeper into her, a handful of my curls between her fingers. My hands held onto her ass as I sucked and moaned all over her cl*t. I could feel her sweetness coating me, dripping down my chin, until my dick got jealous. I stood up quickly and kissed her, letting her taste herself. She moaned as she found my tongue, sucking on it.

She was so sexy in that room with me. So f*cking sexy. I moved her back against the door, lifting one of her legs to quickly sink inside of her. She moaned over and over, covering her mouth so no one could hear her.

I didn’t care who did. I growled against her neck. She felt so f*cking good. It had been two weeks since I had her. Two weeks since her warmth was surrounding me. She moved and turned around so I could f*ck her from behind. She bounced her ass against my hard co*ck, waiting for me to enter her. I could tease her like I did before, but I wanted her bad. I rubbed my hand over her wet puss* and then over the tip of my dick just to coat it some.

I could hear her heavy breaths as she waited for me to enter her again. I could hear when she stopped breathing when I slowly slid back inside of her. Her legs quivered a little. “You are so f*cking beautiful. I want you, Michonne. I want you with me,” I said as I moved inside of her. She didn’t say anything back.

I hurried inside of her. The puss* was good… I was drunk, she smelled like strawberries, and looked like a goddess. Everybody loved her, but she was mine.

Michonne was mine. I hated to seem so territorial, but the men out there could only look at her. Not touch. From now on, she was the only girl for me.

“Whose puss* is this?” I said to her, I could feel her shaking; I could feel her getting wetter…could hear the sloping wet sounds as I moved in and out of her. Her ass smacked against my thighs, and I wanted to cum, but not until she told me. “Whose puss* is this?” I said pumping faster. Her moans were getting louder, almost a squeal. She squeezed her legs together, clenching herself against me. I wasn’t going to cum until she told me.

“Whose puss* is this?” she tensed up for just a second then screamed out. I could feel her shudder against me.

“Yours. It’s your puss*, Rick,” she said loud enough for anyone outside that room to hear. I didn’t care. I wanted them to know. Her groans went on forever, until her cl*t stopped throbbing. My mind was so hazy that I nearly came inside of her. I pulled out quickly, exploding on the floor.

I growled, really taken aback about how powerful of a nut I just had. I fumbled around for the light switch, huffing and puffing like I just ran a marathon. My abs were contracting as I took in large breaths of air. There was a mess everywhere. I started to grin, but I couldn’t regain my composure. I moved a little to rest against the wall. Michonne stood up like baby deer, her legs wobbly. She turned around, and her eyeliner m smeared and so was her red lipstick.

When she caught her breath, she grinned and laughed. “You have red lipstick all over your face,” she looked around and grabbed a napkin from the plentiful stack in the supply room and wiped what she could off the red stain off. We kissed again before we tried to clean ourselves and the room up.

Before we were about to leave, I grabbed her hand. “I need you,” I told her one more time. This time it wasn't desperation. This time I was just reminding her. She smiled and leaned against me, kissing me again. Slow and measured. Not like just before. It had a calming effect on me, this kiss. When she pulled away, she bit her bottom lip.

“I know,” she said and walked out the door towards the lady's room. I stood there for a moment before I left. I don’t think she realized just how much I did need her.

I didn’t realize how much I did, either.

Chapter 4: Puppy Dog Eyes

Chapter Text

Puppy Dog Eyes

I went to the bathroom to clean myself up some more. I was feeling pretty scared right now, but happy. Confused, but satisfied.

I looked in the mirror. The water I splashed on my face was cooling me down some. My heartbeat fast and I was afraid of these strange feelings…they were intense. The sex was intense. Everything about this whole scenario was intense.

The feeling that I had running over me was something I hadn’t really experienced before. Granted, I had never had sex in public and let alone in a f*cking utility closet, but it wasn’t just that. Michonne rubbed off on me, and in a way that seemed foreign altogether…in a good way.

“Mannnn. The model in the photos. What I wouldn’t give to know her. That ass. Those big, soft, brown eyes. You see the way she was looking in those photos. It was like she was looking right at me,” I overheard one guy say.

Another guy started to chime in. “And those lips buddy. Those are some lips I want to get to know. I would love to have those lips wrapped around my…”

I started to cough loudly like my grandpa would. I didn’t want to hear any more of their discussion of Michonne. Especially about what people wanted her lips to do. The guys stopped talking and I felt them look at me. I acted like I didn’t see them and quickly dried my hands off with a napkin, walking out of the bathroom.

Every guy probably thought that way about her. Wondering what her lips could do, or how she would feel. I didn’t care what they wondered.

You kind of do, though.

Michonne bat me to the main floor of the gallery. She was talking to Maggie which was a sigh of relief for me. No perverts around her right now. I casually walked up to them, like I hadn't just f*cked her in the supply closet fifteen minutes ago.

“I see you found Maggie,” I said standing beside her, my hand resting on her lower back. She looked great. Her makeup was fixed. It was like we never did anything.

“Yes, well, she found me,” she said looking up at me. When she smiled, I wanted to drag her in the back again and do it all over. I stood close to her. Not close enough to draw attention, but close enough.

Maggie raised her eyebrows as a smirk crossed her lips. “Well, look at you two. The artist and his art,” she said pointing between us. “You two seem like you're really close now.” I just looked at Michonne and we both grinned. Real close.

“She's a cool girl,” I said, still staring at Michonne. Her smile. Jesus. I wanted to kiss her again.

“You're alright,” Michonne jokingly said to me with a light laugh. She tapped my arm playfully.

“Just alright?” I said looking her over. This time she looked away, embarrassed by my wandering eyes over her.

Did Maggie notice any of this?

“You're pretty cool, too,” she added. I finally looked away. Wasn’t really sure how big my smile was right now, but one was there.

“So, Michonne…you have no modeling experience, but you have IT. You have star power, and I think you could go far in this modeling world,” Maggie explained, resuming a conversation they must’ve had earlier.

Michonne hesitated before speaking, “Oh. I don’t know Maggie. I just don’t think it’s the path for me. That whole world is crazy, and I don’t know if I want to enter it,” Michonne said, shaking her head.

“You should reconsider, Michonne. I can see your face all over the place. I see you traveling and your name getting as big as the sun. Michonne.” She moved her arms in a dramatic flair. Michonne jumped a bit as she made the gesture. “It just sounds like something rich...luxurious, doesn’t it? Something everyone has to have,” she said dreamily.

Maggie continued, “I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I kind of have an eye for stuff like that.” And she wasn’t lying. That’s why she was able to get the position she had at the magazine. She didn’t back down and knew her sh*t. It got her far in this competitive industry.

But Michonne still looked like she wasn’t into the idea at all. She just smiled and nodded her head coyly. “I’ll give it some consideration. It’s the least I could do, but I don’t really know right now,” Michonne replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Maggie nodded her head as she took out a business card. “It’s okay. That is perfectly fine. When you feel the itch to break into this world, you give me a call. In the meantime, you should work out something with Rick here for headshots. Build you a great look-book for agencies. I’m serious, Michonne. Think about it,” she said, handing her the card. Maggie walked up to Michonne and gave her a hug.

“You are beautiful, my dear. A face I haven’t seen in ages. Fresh...New...Exciting,” she said to her as they hugged. She then turned to me and gave me a hug.

“I know you’ve heard it all night. I’ve even mentioned it a few times, but this is an outstanding show. I don’t want to compare and contrast, but it’s so much rawer and real compared to your last show,” Maggie said to me.

She was right. My last show was basic shots of New York. The customary black-and-white stock photos of the city’s residents and places. Novice work, really, compared to this.

“Thanks Maggie. Feels good to finally be done,” I said to her.

“Okay. Well, let me find my fiancé. I haven’t seen him in a while now,” she said as she looked around. When she spotted Glenn near Daryl and Sasha, she headed over there.

I turned and faced Michonne. She looked as if she was in deep thought. “So, how many times have you been approached to start a world wind modeling career?” I said looking down at her. She opened her tiny black purse and pulled out a little stack of cards.

“From when I was with Lori…til now…,” she started counting the little stack. A shocked smile twinged her lips. “Twenty. Twenty people have suggested to me that I should start modeling,” she said looking surprised. I don’t think it hit her yet that she was so desired. I raised an eyebrow.

“You think you want to do something like that? Model?” I asked her. She looked at me with those big brown eyes and shook her head.

“I’ve been in this city all my life and never once thought about it. I’ve never even been approached by anybody before. I saw your little ad and thought, let me make this money really quick.” She laughed at her comment. I liked her laugh. Silky and soft.

“This is all so weird. People want me. All night I’ve been hearing how much I should model for them, or this person wants to meet me, and I’m still thinking why? Why do you want me? Like, I’m really surprised by all of this,” she said, pushing her locs to one side.

All I could do was look at her for the millionth time tonight. It was easy to see why they wanted her. Hell, I was feeling the same way. “You are a beautiful woman, Michonne. Don’t know how often you hear that. I knew when I shot all these photos that you were special,” I said looking around, then back at her.

The sincerest of smiles lit her face. “Thanks, Rick,” she said. She pulled out her phone and started looking at it. “It’s getting late. I still have so much work to do for my finals’ project,” she said as she put her phone back in her purse.

“What time is it?” I asked her. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted her to stay as long as she could.

“Almost 10:30. I should get Sasha so we can head out,” she started to move but I stepped in front of her smiling.

“Which means it’s still 7," I told her. She laughed and shook her head.

Any kind of gathering in New York could go on all night. And those same people will wake up, or stay up, and head to their early morning jobs or take their private jets to Los Angeles, London, Paris, or Tokyo. People in this town had boundless energy. Surprisingly, I’ve adapted to this lifestyle. It’s scary how much I have.

“I know. I know. I hadn’t planned on staying all night. It’s Thursday and I got school tomorrow. I only came out because some photographer artist guy kept insisting that I come to his show. Giving me puppy dog eyes and what not,” she joked.

“Well. That artist guy is happy that you came to support him,” I grazed a finger across her cheek, and she closed her eyes. Thoughts of that closet came running over my mind again. Everything about her ran over my mind.

“Just give me a little bit longer,” I said looking in the direction of Sasha and Daryl. I nodded my head their way. “Your friend seems to like my friend. Let them talk more, then we can talk more. I’ll sneak you a drink. Deal?” I said giving her that same puppy dog look. She ate it up, giggling.

“You are a mess,” she said lightly, hitting my arm. She held up one finger and spoke softly, a little mischief was twinkling in her eye. “Okay. One drink. A little chat. Then I have to go,” she said walking closer to me.

“Okay, then. One drink,” I said reveling in my victory. We walked to the bar, and she wanted a Sex on the Beach. I raised my eyebrow and she hit my arm, laughing. I got another rum and co*ke and we walked outside. There was a little sitting area where we could talk.

It was late April and windy tonight. The air was trying to switch over. The nights were still a little chilly though. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and I took my blazer off, draping it over her.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

“You're welcome,” I said back. I was about to say something to her, but my phone rang. My mom was calling. Earlier, I sent her a video of the evening and a couple of the less naked photos of Michonne. I had to answer my phone.

“Sorry. It's my mom,” I said to her. She nodded her head and drank some more of her mixed drink.

“Not a problem. Talk to you mom,” she said pointing to the phone. I nodded and picked up.

“I'm so upset I missed the show,” she said before I even said hello. She sounded like she was crying.

“Oh, ma. It's okay,” I assured her. She started crying even more.

“I saw the video you sent me. It's packed in there. All those people are there for you and your momma ain't even there.” I felt bad. I didn't want her to beat herself up.

“Oh, Momma. Don't cry.” She started crying even louder. More hysterical than anything. “Ma, stop crying. I'll have more shows. You can come to the next one like you said earlier today,” I suggested trying to calm her down. Michonne looked at me like she was worried. I shook my head to let her know everything was fine.

My mom started to calm down and talked about the show. “I'm just so proud of my baby. I'm gonna show this video to everyone at the Piggly Wiggly and the bingo hall. I sent them to your sister, Melissa. She liked them. We both love your model. Well, she's just beautiful. You tell that girl how beautiful she is, Rick. Is she there?” she asked at the end of her rambling. And I let her. She was proud of me.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I’m standing next to her now,” I said to her, looking at Michonne. She looked at me confused.

“Well, put me on speakerphone. And what's her name?” She asked quickly in her nice southern tone.

“Michonne,” I said, enjoying how her name sounded coming from my mouth. I put my mom on speakerphone.

“Me-chone?” My moms southern drawl took over. “Miss Michonne, you there?” my mom screamed. She always thought speakerphone meant she was supposed to yell loudly, too. I laughed.

“She can hear you, Ma,” I said, urging Michonne to speak. She shook her head nervously and waved her arms to tell me no. I held the phone closer to her until she spoke.

“Hello, Mrs Grimes,” Michonne said, shrugging her shoulders and looking at me at a loss for words. I smirked at her.

“My dear, Miss Michonne. I wanted to thank you for doing this for my baby, Rick. I remember him calling me stressed a month ago, so you saved his life,” she said to Michonne.

Michonne smiled and leaned closer to the phone. “It's not a problem, Mrs. Grimes. Your son helped me out as well,” she explained to my mom.

“Well, I thank you sweetie. Just wanted to tell you that. And you are so pretty. My boy is a sweet boy, and he deserves all the best. I remember when he was a little yougin’ and would run around the house in his underwear, taking pictures. We all thought he was weird, but…”

“Okay, Ma. You're breaking up. Gotta go. Love you,” I said before she embarrassed me some more. I hung up and Michonne was covering her mouth, laughing.

“That is weird,” she commented. I shook my head.

“Ignore my mom. She likes to inadvertently embarrass me,” I said, putting my phone away.

“Most mothers do. It's sweet she called you. She sounded happy,” she said. I knew my mother was happy for me. I was happy about tonight.

“You're parents happy you're an artist? That's what you want to do in life?” I asked her. She nodded her head and sipped her drink some more.

“Oh, yeah. They pay for my tuition. Pay my share of the rent. I want to be a bit more independent, so that's why I answered your ad. Wanted to help them out some. My dad is a screenwriter. My mom works at a theater in Manhattan. She makes costumes for the plays they produce there. You could say art runs in the family,” Michonne explained. It must be nice to have everyone be so supportive. I didn't want to bog her down with my little story of tension with my dad.

But we talked more. About random things. About everything and I never wanted her drink to reach the bottom. I enjoyed the evening we were having. It felt like time was flying by.

Lori walked outside at some point and spotted the two of us. “There you two are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said walking over to Michonne and I. There was a little gate that enclosed us off from her, and Lori never crossed it. She leaned against the gate some as she spoke.

“The crowd has been looking for you both. I got people who want to talk to you guys. Come back inside and let's mingle,” she urged us. I looked at Michonne and she shook her head. It was getting late, and she couldn't stay.

“Michonne’s got to go, but I'll be back soon,” I told her. Lori started to fuss, but Michonne explained about school, so she let it go.

“Okay, but you and I will grab lunch one day. We must talk more my dear.” A bourgeois voice escaped her. I smirked. Lori sure had changed from school. When she left, I looked at Michonne and she stood up, handing me my blazer.

“We'll go get Sasha, then I gotta go,” she said to me. I nodded my head.

But I really didn't want her to.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I held her hand as we stood outside the gallery. Daryl was still sweet-talking Sasha a few feet away. Michonne swung her tiny purse, walking slowly away from me, then turned around.

“How much longer you staying here?” she asked me. She walked back up to me and smiled. I grabbed her hand.

“Lori says I shouldn't leave. I still got major guests to talk to. I’m glad you came to the show, Michonne. Really glad,” I told her. I pulled her closer to me, kissing her cheek. She looked around to see if anyone would notice. “You really gotta go?” I asked. I hoped she would change her mind again.

“Yeah. I wasn't planning on staying this late,” she reminded me. I pulled her even closer to me and put my arms around her.

“You afraid imma keep you up all night?” I said, rubbing her back. She looked at me, the biggest smirk crossing her lips.

“Nope. I'm afraid imma keep you up all night.” Michonne laughed, pointing to my chest and kissed me one last time. She tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let her. You are a gorgeous woman.

I was still tipsy and feeling pretty good. The spring night air was nice. She smelled good, and I didn’t want our night to end. She leaned into me and kissed me again. Just a tiny peck. When she left my lips, a cool breeze settled the little fire she was starting in me once more. Michonne rubbed my lips to get the lipstick off.

“Imma call you tomorrow,” I said looking down at her.

“I'll answer,” Michonne said. She had that look. That come f*ck me look. And I wanted to, but she had to go, and I had to stay. Neither one of us were moving now. We were glued to each other, swaying on the sidewalk.

“You better,” I said grinning. She rubbed one of her hands through my hair and moved it to my cheek.

“I'll see you later,” she told me, finally separating from me. I had to let her go. “Bye, Rick,” she said with a big smile.

I couldn't wipe my grin off. She walked away to meet up with Sasha and Daryl. Damn she looks good; I thought as she made her way near them. Her ass was perfect. Daryl gave both girls a hug and they started to walk off, both of them close to one another, giggling and laughing.

“That girl, Sasha. Talked all night with her. Interesting girl. Funny as hell. Had me laughing all night,” he said leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. I stood next to him. A few moments passed before he spoke again.

“Your show is a hit apparently,” he said as he blew out a puff of smoke. I looked around at the tall buildings in Manhattan. They seemed to change for the night, as well. More decadent. Lively.

“Yeahhhhh,” I said as I watched the two walks further down the block. I turned after a few seconds and looked at the gallery’s front doors. Lori literally had it like an exclusive club in there. It wasn't my kind of crowd, but I had to pimp myself for the people who had money to spend. I needed it.

“sh*ts legit man. Heard only good things,” he said, patting my back. “Hell, you put that girl Michonne on the map. Everyone was talking about her,” Daryl said, putting one of his hands in his pocket.

“Felt that way, huh?” I said to him, I knew the show was going to be good, but I hadn't expected everyone to want a piece of Michonne. It was great for her, just great. But I knew how those people were. They would chew her up and spit her back out. I didn't want her to be taken advantage of by anybody. But like I said when I first met her. She had the face for it. The body. Maggie and Lori saw it, too.

“Let's get back inside and see what’s happening,” I said standing up straight to open the door. It was still early for New York. It was near midnight, and I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. I sucked it up and put on my party face.

So I could enjoy the success of my evening.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

My f*cking head was killing me. I was laying across my bed with the same clothes on from last night: blazer, shirt, jeans, even my shoes. I don't even remember how I got to my studio. I looked up at the wall clock. It was almost 2pm. A steady stream of sunlight hit my eyes. I shielded them as I tried to sit up.

A long groan escaped my raspy throat. I had slept the morning away, which wasn’t unusual. Me having a hangover was. I rarely drink. After Michonne left I ended up drinking a lot more. My nerves were shot.

When she was at the opening with me it was like I could breathe. I could walk around and not feel like I had all this pressure on me to impress the crowds of people. Michonne somehow made the night easier for me. Once she left that all went away. I picked up my phone and texted Daryl.

Me: Dude, how did I get home last night???

I tossed my phone on the bed and got up, taking my clothes off. After a quick shower, I threw on some jeans and a gray t-shirt and made myself some coffee. The coffee machine lulled me into a daze as it dripped down my source of energy for the day.

Lori called while I was at my computer going through emails. She just wanted to give me a heads up about the orders I got from the show, and how much longer the photographs would be in the gallery. She was in a hurry so we didn't talk much. Don't know if that’s a good or bad thing now. I pretty much avoided her last night. After I did what I did with Michonne, I didn't want to give off any vibes to Lori. Women could sense sh*t like that. Maybe that's why she sounded rushed with me? Who knows.

I hit the normal string of my social media accounts to see if there was any buzz about the show. There was a lot. Felt good knowing that people enjoyed themselves.

A lot of hype was centered around Michonne, too. I ran across a couple of pics of us tagged together. It was when we went looking for Sasha and Daryl.

We looked pretty good. I was drunk, with a stupid grin on my face, and she was laughing in another direction, or looking straight on. In one we were looking at each other. Sasha and Daryl took some photos with us. Lori, Glenn, and Maggie, as well. All nice photos. In every shot she stole the show. After a while I decided to give Michonne a call. The phone rang a couple of times before she picked up.

“Rick. How you doing today?” she asked me. I could hear small chatter in the background.

“I'm fine, Michonne. Got a little hangover. How are you doing?” I asked her, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips.

“I bet you do. You were slinging drinks back all night. Surprised you’re alive,” she told me. “But I'm good. On the bus, headed to the rec center for my art class. What you been up to today?” she asked me.

“Well, if I’m going to be honest, I just woke up not too long ago. I’m trying to get my life together now.” I drank more coffee. My head was starting to feel a little better, but not by much.

“Oh okay. Must be nice to get to sleep in,” she said. I grinned.

“Would be nice if you got to sleep in with me,” I said to her. She giggled. You still smooth, Grimes.

“Mmhmmm,” she said. “It would,” Michonne added. The smile never left my face, but I changed the subject.

“So what rec center do you teach at?” I asked her.

“St. Johns. I go there every Friday. It’s about ten kids that come there after school and I teach them to paint; how to express themselves with their words,” she explained.

“That’s cool. How long have you been working down there?”

“Oh, since high school, but I've gone there since I was a kid. One of the ladies taught me a lot, and so now I’m kind of following in her footsteps,” she explained to me. She seemed like she was a natural. The kids had to love her. I wondered what else she was like. I wanted to hang out with her today, I decided.

“Got any plans after that?” I followed. Maybe she wouldn’t mind seeing me later?

“Nope. Might see if Sasha wants to do something. Why? You want to see me?” she asked. I liked her little flirty tone.

“Yeah. Wouldn't mind that,” I admitted, sitting back in my chair. I looked at the collage of pictures from my social media accounts. I really wanted to see her.

“Cool,” she said. “This bus is a little noisy. You mind if I call you a little later?” she wondered. I didn’t mind.

“Nope. I'll answer,” I said repeating what she told me last night.

“You better,” she said back. She made me smile. The easiest thing I ever did around her. “Bye, Rick,” she added and hung up.

I stood up, put on some shoes and grabbed my Yankees baseball cap. My dad is a Braves fan. He hates this hat. My mom made me swear never to bring it around the house. She said it was causing bad vibes. Although, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the hat doing it.

I wished me and my dad were closer. I wished whatever hangups he had about my choice of profession would be let go. I mean, we talked. We could sit in the same room with one another, but there was always this tension. I got up and walked out my studio, locking it up, and headed down the stairs.

I didn’t want to waste the rest of the day in the house thinking about my dad.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So, class. When you write you want to just write whatever comes to mind. It doesn't have to mean anything, or it can mean everything. The meaning is from what you feel,” I overheard her say when I stepped into the rec room. I didn't walk all the way, I just leaned against the door.

Today she wore an oversized Brooklyn Dodgers jersey and some leggings. She walked around slowly as she spoke then turned around. When she saw me, she smiled and waved.

“Guys, I want you to think about the best day you ever had in your life and jot that down,” she said to them. “I'll give you fifteen minutes. Annnnnddd...go.” The kids of no more than thirteen started to look in the sky and ponder their best day. Michonne walked over to me, smiling the entire time. How did she make any outfit look so great?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, completely surprised. She crossed her arms and stood right in front of me.

“Took a long walk. Ended up over this way,” I told her. I pointed towards the classroom. “You're a natural. The kids listen to you, and you had their attention the entire time” I said to her. She had mine, too.

“Yeah, they're like my babies,” she said to me looking at them. They all sat at these little tables across from one another. Some of them were writing furiously, others were taking their time. One guy finished and started looking at his cell phone. Michonne stepped closer to me.

“Are you stalking me, Grimes?” she whispered to me. I kind of started sweating.

You kind of been acting creepy, fool. And now she noticed. I didn’t want her to think I was some creepy photographer that would break into her house and take photos of her.

“Nah. No. Nah, I’m not. I just wanted to...well, I thought that...” I said quietly looking at the ground, fumbling my words around like I just got caught stealing. But she laughed and lightly hit my arm.

“You’re so easy to f*ck with,” she said softly. I must've looked like a beet, red as sh*t. I could feel my skin getting hotter, although the window AC was on full blast.

“When is your class over?” I wondered. Maybe she wanted to grab something to eat? I haven't had anything all day. I hadn’t really eaten that much these past few weeks, except for last night at the opening.

One of her kids raised his hand and called her last name. “Ms. Turner. Can you come here really quick?” the young guy asked. She smiled and nodded her head, then looked back at me.

“Give me thirty minutes,” she said, responding to my question. “Excuse me for a second...What's going on, Octavious?” she asked the youth, and walked in that direction. I watched her read what he wrote and then she gave him a high five. The teen seemed happy...proud of himself. Was there anything she was bad at?

I stepped outside for a moment and looked at all of the paintings displayed in the hallway. There were a lot of the kids' handiwork on the walls, and some from Michonne it looked like. She signed her name at the bottom like a true artist. I looked at the line of paintings for a while, then I felt my phone vibrate. Daryl had texted me back.

Daryl: I got u to ur place. U were wasted man. Didn't want anyone to take advantage of u...lol...glad to see ur not dead bro.

I laughed. Suddenly, I remembered Daryl yelling as he climbed several flights of stairs with me in tow. I decided to call him while I waited for her.

“Hey, Daryl,” I said when he picked up. I could hear him strumming notes on his bass. It wasn’t hooked up to an amp, and he would hit the same lick over and over again. “Thanks for looking out, man. I think I went a little overboard.” I adjusted my Yankees hat and leaned against the wall.

“Ha, a little. You were floored. Dude, Lori demanded that I get your ass home. I had to call someone to come get us back to your place... Oh, yeah. That reminds me. Jesus wants 20 bucks for gas,” he quickly added.

Jesus, whose real name was Paul, was the lead singer of their band, Cherokee Rose. He...well...he looked like Jesus. You know, our Lord and Savior. Long brown hair. Brown goatee. He wore these white dramatic, flowy shirts at nearly every performance. The name stuck, and it worked. I shot a cover story for them for a local magazine about two years ago. That’s how I met Daryl.

“Tell him as soon as I get paid, he’ll get paid. But he is in line after my mom, the light bill, the water bill, and my high ass rent for my little apartment. But I got him,” I quipped. Those were facts. Daryl laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll let him know, man. What you up to? We’re having a little jam session later. You can come to the studio if you want. I invited that girl from the opening last night. The one with the curly hair. Sasha. Called her last night and we talked some. Coolest girl man,” he said going on about her. It was the first girl I ever heard him fixate on.

“I might swing through. It’s funny you’re talking about Sasha. I’m with Michonne right now,” I said standing up and peeking in the classroom. The students were taking turns reading what they wrote out loud. Whenever someone finished, she would do a little dance and they would join in. She looked like she was the most fun person to be around. She really made their day, I bet.

“Interesting, my friend. Interesting. We will have to talk more about this later,” he said, strumming his bass in deep ominous tones.

I laughed. “Nothing to talk about. We’re just hanging out,” I said to him. In my defense, we were hopefully about to hang out. And not f*ck. Well, at least that’s my plan.

He struck another chord on his bass. “Sure, buddy, sure. But I’ll see you later. If you can’t make the studio I’ll catch you around,” he said to me. I nodded my head as I responded.

“Alright man, I’ll see you later,” I said to him and hung up the phone. I leaned against the wall and went through a few of my emails. I literally did everything through my personal email for all business purposes. I could spend hours on my phone. It’s literally all I ever did.

Time flew by because the kids started to rush past me. I looked like a deer in headlights. Michonne walked out of the class about five minutes later. “I just text you. I thought you left,” she said when I turned to her.

“Nope. I’m still here. You free now? Are you hungry?” I asked her. She nodded her head.

“I could eat. Let me grab my bag and we can head out. I’m starving,” she said. When she came back out, she had on her backpack. It was an army fatigue print, and little buttons were attached all over it. Some looked like they were hand painted.

“Okay, we can head out,” she said walking back up to me. I knew I was smiling hard.

My day was officially starting now.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Ms. Turner. Come show us your skills,” a group of kids yelled as we walked out of the rec center. Michonne had the biggest smile on her face as they waved her over to them. She took her backpack off and handed it to me. Her hands were on her hips as she strutted over there, full of confidence.

“Okay y’all. Imma show y’all how we used to do it on my block,” she told them, proudly swinging her hips. Some of the girls were playing double dutch and wanted Michonne to join in. Michonne started laughing as they chanted a rhyme. She rocked back and forth before she jumped into the rope.

All in together girls,

How you like the weather girls,

January, February, March, April, May…

As I watched her jump in on the month of December, that’s her birthday month, remember that, Grimes, she started to do various tricks. I was impressed. I don’t think I could even coordinate myself to jump right with a single jump rope. I wasn’t too coordinated in the first place. When one of the girls who jumped in after her stepped on the rope, Michonne held her hands up.

“Whew. That’s enough you guys. I’m tired,” she said, putting her hands on her hips trying to catch her breath. She started to walk off and the girls all chimed in, begging her to jump one more time. They convinced Michonne and she did it again, then took a turn at swinging the rope for the other girls. Michonne looked like she was having the time of her life, and seemed like she always spent her time having fun. Worry or stress never crossed her face.

“Okay. This time I’m for real,” she told them, giving each girl a hug. They all wished she could stay longer. An exhausted smile stretched her face as she approached me.

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” I said to her when she reached for her backpack. I shook my head to let her know I’ll carry it for her. She grinned and stepped closer to me.

She huffed some, still trying to catch her breath. “Plenty of things. While I’m trying to be cute hanging with these thirteen-year-olds, my ass going to be sore as hell in the morning,” she realized, grabbing her lower back.

“You’re only 20. You shouldn’t have a bad back. But here let me help you,” I said, massaging her where her hand once was. The girls started to oooo and ahhhh.

“Is that your boyfriend?” One of the girls shouted. The other girls joined in, all saying the same thing. Michonne looked at me, then at her students.

“He’s a good friend,” she explained to them. They all curled their lips up at her in disbelief. It was the same look on all of their faces. I had to admit, they were funny, and made me crack a smile.

Michonne chuckled and waved goodbye. “I’ll see you guys' next week,” she said.

“Bye Ms. Turner…bye Ms. Turner's…friend,” the girls said in unison, sing-song-like. We started walking down the sidewalk, laughing.

“Got a place you like to eat at around here?” I asked her. Michonne nodded her head and told me about a diner not too far from us. It was nice out today. A good day for walking around.

“Why’d you move to New York?” she asked me when we got closer to the diner. I thought for a moment and remembered wanting to leave King’s County so much. It was all I ever thought about.

“Just wanted to get away,” I ended up telling her.

“Bad past?” she followed. I shook my head and thought about it. I didn’t have a bad upbringing. Both of my parents were very loving. My dad just didn’t like my career choice, which I agree, I have struggled with financially. I could hear my dad now.

So, you’re goin’ to move to a big ass city, with no money. To get a job where you’ll make no money. That’s brilliant son. You can paint. Hell, you can take a nice picture. But you’ll never make any money to support yourself.

“Not really. Me and my dad bumped heads. He was a cop. Wanted me to be a cop. I chose a career mile in the opposite direction,” I said pointing in front of me. “I had this idea that New York would be the answer. It’s where all artists go. That or L.A., so all through high school that’s what I thought about. Moving to New York. Making it big. I’m still trying to get there,” I said, kind of defeated. Just slightly.

It was hard seeing all of my friends successful in their careers. Lori, Glenn, Maggie, even Daryl, all of them were making big moves. The biggest thing I’ve done to date was the photoshoot with Michonne. The most buzz I’ve ever had was because of her.

“Your work is there, Rick,” she said looking at me as we slowly walked up the block. I smiled and she noticed the small lack of confidence I had. She touched my arm.

“Deadass. Your photos are crazy good. The paintings on the wall at your place, beautiful. I really want one of them. Your talent is there. You just need others to find it now. And they will,” she assured me.

Honest to God, she made me feel good. “Thanks, Michonne. That means a lot,” was the only thing I could manage to say. I stuck my hands in my pocket and walked beside her, enjoying our little convo about ourselves.

Enjoying her.

Chapter 5: Here

Chapter Text

Here

We made it to the diner, and I held the door open for Michonne. She smiled that smile of hers. It was contagious, her smile.

I hated when people would say that to me; Smile, it’s contagious. I was kind of a grump, and really didn’t care to smile much. But as soon as her lips formed into one, I couldn’t help but join in.

We sat at the diner counter. I guess it was your normal old school place. Checkered floor. Nostalgic pictures and newspaper clippings on the wall. Devoted patrons sitting in their favorite booths.

“Hey, Gloria. Hou youse doing today?” Michone said to the older waitress who was probably in her forties. She grabbed her pad by the register and tapped a pen from behind her ear.

“Hey Ms. Chonne. Youse gettin’ slices or a patty today?”

“Um…” Michonne hesitated. “Slices are sounding really good, but I think I want a burger.” The waitress grabbed a menu, but I turned it down.

“I’m getting whatever she’s getting,” I said to her.

Gloria had a little smile on her cherub face. Her brown curly hair poked out from under her uniform hat. “Sure thing. Any mayo, ketchup, lettuce, tomato?” She asked. I nodded and we got to talking, learning a little about each other. Our food arrived as we talked.

“What do you like about New York?” she asked me. I was slapping ketchup out the bottle to pour over my fries. When I couldn’t get any out, she took the bottle from me, and it came out smooth. I grinned. She had a magical touch.

“When I first got here, I was scared I was going to look like a tourist. I wanted to seem cool and chill, and I ain’t that. The subway was confusing. The streets always sounded like screeching tires and yelling. People move so fast and bump into you and walk in herds. But now I love it. I love the noise. I love the congestion and not knowing everyone and walking down the street and seeing so much,” I answered. I asked her if she had ever been down south. She nodded her head.

“Yep. Got family in North Carolina,” she raised her eyebrows and smirked. “You guys are so slow moving, and everyone says hello to you. People pause for long epic conversations. Nothing is open past 11. Everyone says y’all.”she said in one long breath. She was right. Especially in smaller towns like the one I was from.

“But I like at night when there is quiet. Just the crickets chirping away. You can see the stars in the sky. And there are trees and fields. You have your own space. The rooms are bigger. I have to say I’ve enjoyed visiting my family down there,” she said while eating her fries.

“Your friend Maggie called me earlier today,” Michonne said as she sipped her water.

“Oh, she did. What was she talking about?” I asked her. She sat her cup down and the waitress asked if she wanted more to drink. She shook her head and looked at me.

“Said I should come to her office and meet her boss. I told her I don’t know about all of that,” Michonne said, stealing one of my fries. The idea of modeling still wasn’t appealing to her.

“Why not? Summer is coming and you will be out of school. The money probably would be nice. Help out with your tuition next year,” I said remembering why she modeled for me. To give her parents a little help. She looked up in thought as the idea didn’t seem so foreign anymore.

“You could model all over New York and still be able to live your life. Still work at the Rec. Spend some time with me,” I threw in quickly. She shyly smiled and looked at her plate. “Seems like a good idea to me,” I added.

“You know. I never thought about that. I just don’t want to be a typical cliche model. I like to eat. I don’t want people telling me I need to look a certain way. I don’t want to be around all those egos,” she said trying to talk herself out of it. I grabbed one of her locs and rolled it between my fingertips.

“Not everyone is like that. Some people are chill and down to earth. They’re just trying to make ends meet like everyone else. When school starts back up, you can stop modeling, or do it less, or keep at it. But I think you should think about it,” I suggested.

“True. I see your point.” She paused for a moment. “And I do need money. It would help my parents out a lot. They have an anniversary coming up. Twenty years. They married each other after they discovered they were pregnant with me,” she said smiling. “Maybe if they didn’t have to pay my tuition, they could go somewhere nice, or I could buy them something nice,” she said thinking the idea wasn't that bad now.

“Yeah, I think you should do it. If you want, I’ll shoot some shots of you for free,” I offered. She shook her head.

“For a price. I don’t like free. Ain’t nothing in this world free. Now, if you want to charge me a cheap price, we can do that,” she said, swinging her locs out the way. She grabbed my hat and put it on her head.

“You go to the games?” she asked me, referring to the Yankees. It sat just slightly on her head and tilted. She took it off and turned it around so it would be out of her eyes. It was cute on her. Everything was cute on her.

“Yeah, I’m going to one in a few weeks. Maybe you could come to one with me,” I said, grabbing her hand. She looked at me and nodded her head.

“Maybe,” she said softly. She let go of my hand to eat her cheeseburger. Kiss her. Kiss her right now.

“Wanna hang out some more?” I said after I chewed a couple of fries. I bit into my burger, and she raised her eyebrows while she ate.

This woman was gorgeous. Even as she ate her food, she still turned me on somehow. Some ketchup got on the side of her mouth, and I grabbed a napkin wiping it off. She twisted her lips into a smile.

“And do what?” she said with a quizzical look. She picked up her cup and wrapped her lips around her straw. I thought I would die when I saw that. I wanted to be that f*cking straw. But I held my hands up.

“Something innocent. No strings attached. Daryl is having a little jam session in a studio about twenty minutes away. He said I could swing by. Your friend Sasha might be there. Did she mention that to you?” I asked her. I hoped she did. That way she might be down to come with me.

“She may have mentioned that when I talked to her earlier. I didn’t want to be a third wheel, so I…”

“Now you won’t be,” I said, rubbing her thigh. Her eyes quickly found mine and we looked at one another for a minute. “Come with me. Please?” I said to her and I found myself begging her to do things, which probably wasn’t a good look.

“I like when you grovel,” she said in that sexy voice of hers. The one she used when I took those shots of hers. The one she seduced me with.

“I like when you say yes,” I said back to her just as smooth. Nice recovery.

“Sure. We can go chill at the studio. It’s Friday. I like getting into fun,” she said, swirling her straw in her cup. She ate one more fry then pushed her plate back.

“What else do you like?” I asked her, grabbing her hand. I started rubbing my fingers over her palm, and a smile crossed her face. I liked that I could get her to smile. I didn’t have to do much to get her to either.

“I’ll tell you, but not right now,” she teased. Her comment sparked my interest.

“Can’t wait to hear,” I said. Ten minutes later I paid our tab, and we headed out. Michonne was rubbing her belly.

“I ate too much. Gawd. And my legs. Ugh, that damn double Dutch,” Michonne said as we walked out the diner. She carried her bookbag in her hand by the top strap, and I looked at her pausing in my steps.

“Come on,” I said, putting her book bag on her back. I turned around and pointed behind me. “Hop on,” I said to her. She laughed, and I looked behind me.

“I don’t think you can carry me,” she said, crossing her arms. I bent down lower and waved her over to me.

“I can. I’m sure of it. Hop on. Give your legs a rest,” she grinned and slowly walked towards me.

“Okay, but you better not drop me. And if you wake up tomorrow and your back hurts, that’s your fault. Cause I told you not to do this,” Michonne said. She slowly got on my back, and I grabbed her thighs to secure her. She was so f*cking soft. I held her tighter, and she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“You’re light as a feather, Michonne,” She was. I felt younger with her. I mean, I wasn’t some grandpa with a massive gray beard, but I was older than her. Felt like I saw a lot in my life; experienced a lot living here. But I never felt like my heart would beat out of my chest when I was around someone. I couldn’t imagine even trying to describe how Michonne made me feel. It was all unexpected.

“What kind of music does Daryl’s band play?” Michonne asked if I carried her.

“They do mostly covers from their favorite artists. Fleetwood Mac, Aerosmith, Green Day.I’ve heard them do it all. They just did their first feature album recently with all original music. In a few weeks I’m going to shoot them for another cover,” I said to her.

“That’s dope. I like listening to music. I do it all the time when I paint,” she said to me.

“No sh*t. I listen to music when I do my work. It centers me,” I said to her. We had something else in common it seemed.

I carried her for a while until we reached the bus stop. The recording studio wasn't that far, so the bus would do. I am a pretty decent driver. Got maybe two speeding tickets in my life. But I would never drive around the city. I remember renting a car to carry my equipment around and ended up driving on the turnpike one day and having a massive anxiety attack.

Never Again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hey. You guys made it,” Daryl said when we opened the door. He had a beer in his hand. The studio had about ten people there. Of course, the other three band members were there. The girls from the subway platform where Sasha got off were here. Sasha was sitting with them on a couch talking to Jesus. You know, Paul.

I dapped him up. “Yeah, man. I know you know Michonne. She came through with me,” I told Daryl. He didn't seem shocked to see her with me.

“Friends of Rick are friends of mine. Come on in. We got beer, weed, and some liquor. Got some food. You guys want something?” Daryl asked as we stepped inside.

“We just ate, but you want something, Michonne?” I asked her. She nodded her head.

“A beer is cool,” she said to Daryl. I asked for one, too, and we joined Sasha, Tara, Rosita, and Jesus.

“You guys are always where the fun is at,” Michonne said sitting next to Sasha. There wasn't anywhere for me to sit so I leaned against the wall.

“Michonne, you be where the party is at all the time. Bitch, turn up,” Sasha said to her.

“Is she drunk, Tara?” Michonne asked.

“She called me and Rosita and told us to come by. We've been here since four, chilling,” Tara told her. There was a hookah there and everyone was smoking from it. I kind of overheard some separate conversations going on.

“Michonne, you know how to pick them girl. The boy is a zaddy,” Rosita said. Zaddy. I had no f*cking clue what that meant.

“Why you guys always trying to embarrass me,” she said, taking a sip of her beer. “We just cooling. Nothing serious,” she told her. Rosita rolled her eyes. Did Michonne just want to be f*ck buddies?

“You better stop acting like he not a whole snack, girl. Deadass, Michonne, you be getting them,” Sasha chimed in.

“I've had two boyfriends. A guy from high school named Mike and Jonathan,”

“That c*nt f*cker,” Tara said after blowing out smoke. Michonne looked sad but shrugged it off speaking again.

“I'm not trying to do nothing but have fun. I've had a lot of heartache. I'm just trying to breathe right now,” she said. “What's up with you and Abraham? What's Abe doing this week?” Michonne asked.

“Who is Abe?” Rosita said with an angry look. Tara snorted.

“Who is Abraham?You guys gonna be back together next” Tara said. Rosita shook her head.

“I'm not taking him back this time. He gots to realize that it is important. He can't have his cake and eat it too. But forget about him. Did Sasha show you that video of you?” Rosita asked. Michonne looked nervous.

“Video? Of what?” she asked, turning to Sasha.

“Oh. Of your spoken word. I recorded it and uploaded it to YouTube,” she said with a smile.

“Girl, your messy ass did not do that?” Michonne said to her, kind of shocked. Sasha grinned.

“I sure did. That sh*t was dope. You talented girl. The world needs to know,” Sasha told her.

“I should beat your ass,” Michonne said.

“But you won't, sooo,” Sasha tainted. All the girls started to laugh. Just then Daryl and Paul walked up to me.

“Brought the model?” Daryl said, handing me another beer. I had downed the last one fast. I looked over at her and she was still talking to her friends.

“Yeah,” I simply said. He nodded his head.

“Gorgeous girl man. Come to think about it. For the first single, off our album we should use them in the video. All those girls are gorgeous,” Paul said to both of us.

“You guys shooting a video?” I said, taking a swig of my beer. Paul nodded his head.

“Yeah, man. To the song Girls World. We're releasing the track next week,” he said excitedly. It was one of their more contemporary commercial singles they just recorded.

“That's exciting guys,” I told them.

“Yeah. Now that I've seen Michonne up close, she's got to be the main girl in the video. I'm already thinking up cool sh*t for this thing.” Paul always looked like he was thinking. He had good ideas, though.

“Let's go warm up. Play something smooth for our little audience,” he said to Daryl. Daryl nodded his head and turned back to me.

“What up with you and Michonne? You was around her all last night. Y'all disappeared for like thirty minutes. You with her today. Seems like you not feeling Lori anymore.” He was right. I hadn't thought about Lori all day. Not since I talked to her earlier.

“As far as I know, we just hanging out. She's got a nice vibe. Chill personality.” Good puss*. I shook my head. Get your mind out the gutter, Grimes.

“I got it. Doing the same myself,” he said looking at Sasha. He hit my chest. “Bout to warm the bass up with some Fleetwood Mac,” he told me and walked off.

I nodded my head. They like covering songs from other artists. It took their minds off their own work, so they could come back fresh and anxious to perform it. I watched them start up before Michonne walked up to me, as Paul started to sing the lyrics to "Need your love so bad."

Need some lips... to feel next to mine......

Michonne looked at me. “ Wanna go? I haven't had much sleep and-" She yawned.

I need someone to stand up and tell me when I'm lyin'

“Yeah,” I said to her. I rubbed her cheek with my hand. I wanted to kiss her, but I felt that would be weird. “I need to get home myself,” I added.

....and when the lights are low... and it's time to go...

She said goodbye to her friends who said they would see her at the apartment, and I said my goodbyes, as well. Daryl nodded to me as we left.

...Thats when I need your love... so bad...

“Can I ask you something?” I said to her as we walked outside. I decided to get us a cab. I didn't want to waste the money, but she was really tired, and it was almost 11 at night. Still early, but when you are missing hours of sleep, time seems to drag. Drinking those beers didn't help either.

“Sure,” Michonne said, looking up at me. A cab drove up to the curb and I opened the door for her. She smiled and got inside, then I got in.

“It's a two parter: What is a whole snack and what is a zaddy, and are those good things?” I asked her. She started to sleepily chuckle and grabbed my hand.

“It's a good thing. It just means you're really cute,” she told me. My white, country boy was coming out of me.

“It's just something girls say. It's not anything bad,” she added, and I nodded my head. She leaned her head against my shoulder and started to yawn. I lifted the arm she was resting against and wrapped it around her. She snuggled against me, and we rode like that to her side of town. Our day was coming to an end, and I was feeling like I was about to lose a part of myself. That was the bad thing about good days:

They had to end.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“You can come up if you want to,” she said when we reached her brownstone. It had been a beautiful day. We spent pretty much all of it together. Everything I did today, I normally did. I normally went out to eat. I normally chilled with Daryl, but I didn’t feel empty, like I was just going through the motions.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to be a bother. I know you got roommates so….” I started to trail off. She shook her head.

“Well, Sasha is with Daryl. Rosita and Tara don’t live with us, they are just over here all the time. So, just come upstairs with me,” she said again. This time she was telling me to. I raised my eyebrows and followed her up to her place.

Michonne fumbled with her keys, eventually unlocking her door. We entered her apartment, which had a nice vibe to it. Art was scattered everywhere, but her place was neat. More colorful than my place. It actually felt like a home. She bypassed her living room and started walking to her bedroom. I followed her in there.

“So, this is my room. Don’t laugh at my art project,” she said to me. I smiled. There was a lot of red everywhere. A lot of anger. I could tell with the brush strokes that she was going through something when she did this. Then there was one little area of white. Of hope for something.

“I like it,” I said to her. She scoffed then smiled.

“No, you don’t. Shut up,” she said messing with me, then went to her dresser and grabbed a hair tie, putting her locs into a ponytail. I sat down on her bed. There were paintings everywhere and lots of pictures of her and Sasha. Some with who I assumed were her parents.

A few of them were cut up, the same guy appearing in all of them. Well, just his shoulders or part of his face I didn’t ask her who the person was. It didn’t matter. She fell down on the bed and closed her eyes.

I smiled and took my shoes off, lying next to Michonne. Once I settled in good beside her, I felt at ease, comfortable, and sleepy. I really needed to rest today, but spending my time with Michonne wasn’t a bad way to miss out on sleep.

“Michonne?” I said to her.

“Hmmm,” she moaned out. She was on the brink of going to sleep herself. We were up the previous night for a while. I know I was.

“I had a good time with you today,” I admitted to her. I honestly did. I wanted the day to go on for a while, but I was tired like her.

“I had a good time too,” she said in a mumble. She had spent most of today with me, taught art class, went to school herself, and all with little sleep because of me and my show. I told myself I should get up and go home, but the mild breeze coming from her window felt nice. I heard light laughter from outside, and Michonne’s breathing was soft, then heavy. I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

After a while, I heard nothing but silence.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was morning when I woke up. I still had my arms draped around Michonne. She stirred beside me, purring like a cat.

“Well, good morning,” she said backing up against me. I knew she felt it. I had morning wood.

Everyone knew guys got it, so I wasn’t ashamed. Also, Michonne had her nice, round, big ass, backed up against my dick. She was going to feel something. She moved closer to me.

“Oh my god. I slept so good,” she said looking at her phone. It was almost 10 in the morning. I had to agree. I hadn’t slept this peaceful in weeks.

“I told you it would feel good to sleep in with you.” I pulled her even closer to me. She laughed, turned and faced me, covering her mouth.

“I have morning breath,” she said nearly mumbling. I moved her hand and kissed her lips. I didn’t kiss her all day yesterday, but when I kissed her just now, it didn’t f*cking matter. She pulled away from me, but I kissed her again. I really didn’t care.

And she didn’t seem to care either eventually. She kissed my lips slowly. The sun beat down on our faces as I took in her softness. As my hands explored her body, I realized I didn’t really know her body well enough. All of the peaks and valleys. I didn’t know where to touch her to make her toes curl, or how long I had to rub her nipples before they became hard underneath my fingertips.

I wanted to know. I moved away from her and started to unbutton her dodger's jersey. The grey and black material flapped open. Underneath it she wore a white lace bra. The material looked gorgeous against her skin. She looked away shyly, like I hadn’t seen her before.

“Don’t tell me the girl who just wanted to just f*ck when we first met is shy now. The one who f*cked me in a supply closet. I said as her stomach rose up and down. My hand stalled there as she looked up at me.

“Not shy. I’m just usually-”

“In control. Even when we were at the opening, you wanted me to f*ck you. You laughed when I pulled you through the crowd to the back,” I bent low to kiss her belly. She shook a little.

“You trying to figure me out?” she said squirming, my hands pulling slightly at her leggings. Her skin felt hot underneath my fingertips. I kissed the top of her hipbone, and she sucked in air like she had just been burned.

“I should ask some questions. Don't know what you like. What parts on you are sensitive?” I licked her stomach. I heard the tiniest moan escape from her plump lips, her breathing getting faster.

“I’m…” She licked her lips. “You’re just going to have to figure that out on your own,” she said almost challenging me. I liked a challenge. I hovered over her.

“Here?” I said kissing her belly button. She quivered.

“Nope. Not there,” she said looking down at me.

“Here?” I said licking a trail down her stomach to the top of her leggings. She shook her head, raising her hips to meet my questing lips.

“You’re not even close,” she said taunting me. I bit the top of her leggings, grabbing the thin fabric to pull down her legs. I’m pretty sure I could find what I was looking for. Find the place that made her shake out of control.

I kissed her on her hips and in that little crease beside her center. She was starting to glisten, and I could feel my dick getting harder. I pressed it against the bed to dull the sensation down, but it just got me harder.

My tongue licked that wet trail on her slit. I could taste her and wanted to taste her some more. Her hips kept rising; I was the one taunting her now.

“Was that it?” I asked her. I could hear short little breaths leave her, but she shook her head, still acting like I didn't have her center pulsing. I was hard as f*ck right now, aching to feel the wetness I was just tasting, but I had to have her juices on my tongue again.

I parted her slit, my lips finding her little bud and grazing it. Her juices were coating them, and I couldn’t get enough.

I talked over her cl*t as I asked her again. “What about here?” I mumbled into her puss*. She grabbed my hair, and I parted her lips even more, completely covering her. She couldn’t talk, she just let out these sexy sounds arching her back, her fingers played in my hair.

I let out a long groan thinking about how good her puss* tasted. About how wet that sh*t was. And she moaned, too, holding onto me. Her fingernails were clawing at my back, she couldn’t decide where to put her hands. They were rubbing all over me.

“Yes... there, Rick. Right there,” she said looking down at me. Her head fell back again, and I moved my tongue quickly over her tender cl*t. Her moans made me want to kiss her there. My lips sucked on her, licked her, slurped her, and my fingers found her soft, silky opening. I entered two of them in her slowly. Her hips knew what to do. I sat up a little and looked at Michonne as I fingered inside of her.

She couldn’t help how much she wanted it. I couldn’t help how much I wanted to give it to her. To see her lose control just from my fingers being inside her. That thought did something to me. I bent back down to continue tasting her. Felt like I could do it for hours if she didn’t pass out.

“Damn, Rick. I like that. Just like that, baby,” she said moving against my tongue. I moaned against her, and she started to shake. I had to f*ck her. I just had to.

I hurriedly grabbed my wallet from my back pocket and pulled out a condom. I threw it on the floor and got off the bed to take my pants off. I had never rushed so fast to put one on. It seemed like it was taking forever and she sexily moved against the bed waiting for me. She started to play with herself, and I got jealous. I wanted to make her moan.

“Move your hand,” I told her. She brought out this side I never knew. It kind of scared the sh*t out of me. It didn't scare her.

“No,” she told me, her lips forming a smile. She moved her hand faster over her slickness, more sexy gasps leaving her. Jesus, she wanted me to explode. I got on the bed and moved in front of her, my hands on her bent knees. My dick was throbbing to be inside her.

She liked to toy with me. To tease me. I liked when Michonne did it. Just f*cking sexy as hell. “Move your hand,” I growled again, with a little more authority. She looked at me as she played with herself. I started stroking my dick, anxiously wanting to get inside her wet puss*.

“Make me,” she whispered out. She looked like she was almost there, but I wasn’t going to let her cum. Not now. I moved her hand quickly and didn’t let her prepare to take me. I looked at her face and she was lost in pleasure and pain, a tiny smile still there.

Michonne liked to be in control. She liked to get her way. I figured that out. But she liked me to take control, too, and I liked that. I plunged into her, and she clenched herself around me. As I sunk further into her, she arched her back, taking all of me in. Michonne was driving me crazy. I pulled her breasts out of her white bra, sucking on her nipples. Only moans escaped her lip.

Her head fell back, her neck was exposed. I licked her there, then sucked on her skin. Her hands found my hair again, and she played with my curls. I loved her hands in my hair.

Michonne had me thinking about sh*t that I didn’t usually think about. Like breakfast in bed and walks in the park. Getting a dog and going to plays.

I took her face in my hand to steady her, as I moved inside her. I needed to look into her brown eyes. “I like you, Michonne,” I told her. I know you’re not supposed to say sh*t like that during sex, but I did.I’m really attracted to her. From that moment she stepped into my apartment two weeks ago, I knew then.

“I like you, too,” she said clinging to me. Her whimpers were in my ear. I grew harder inside of her, and blood was rushing in my ears. Where did she come from? Why didn’t our paths cross sooner than this? I pumped inside of her faster, my mouth crushing hers. I could hear her cried out for God each time I stroked inside of her. Each time I slid into her, she shuddered beneath me.

“God, Michonne,” I husked out. Damnnn. I was falling for her.

I felt her tightening against me. I heard her whimpers turn into squeals as she dug her fingers into my back. I grinded inside of her and she screamed. It only made me work harder until I felt what she was feeling.

“Rick, Rick, Rick, Rickkkkk,” she kept screaming. “Rickkk,” she groaned, and I lost every f*cking thing inside of me. She still hung onto me as I met her there. I couldn’t stop moving until the pulsing feeling I felt stopped. I buried my face in her neck and just lay there. Her hands found my curls again; her touch was all I was wanting right now.

I never knew what to say afterwards with her. She was so quiet, and I was so shaken. Her fingers dragged against my back, through my hair, on the back of my neck. We were both sweating and breathing fast.

“You are going to consume me,” she said finally. I moved off of her and looked at her ceiling. I didn’t understand what she meant by that.

“What do you mean?” I asked pulling her closer to me. She still had her white bra and dodgers' jersey on. My hands searched over her breasts again. I wanted some more of her, but I cooled my thoughts.

“What we’re doing. How you make me feel. You just taking over me and we barely know each other. I don’t really say much about myself. Don’t want to tell you everything for you to just break my heart,” she said laying it all out there. Michonne never beat around the bush.

“I’m not trying to break your heart. I like you. I know that. And I know I want to be around you more. To get to know you better. Damn, Michonne. “I ain’t never felt like this before,” I told her rubbing her stomach. I never did. Not with Lori. Not with anyone.

“I like you, too. I just don’t want to rush into anything. We keep having sex like this…” she said moving closer to me. “I'm going to fall hard. I don't want that. But I like you.” I ran my fingers through her locs, leaning down to kiss her again. She looked so beautiful, so f*cking gorgeous.

“Well, why don’t we just take it slow... go with the flow… you know,” I said being light with her, but serious. We could take our time and see how things go. The summer was coming. It would be no better time to get to know her. She'd be on break. I always had time to do sh*t. She giggled and kissed me back.

“We can do that,” she said as her lips grazed my cheek. She then bit my earlobe and that feeling covered me again. That feeling of needing to be in her.

“Yeah,” I said laying on my back and pulling her on top of me. “We can do that,” I said holding her close. She had her secrets. I had some, too. Right now we were going to go slow.

And discover each other.

Chapter 6: Source of Energy

Chapter Text

A Source of Energy

So, for the past couple of weeks, Michonne and I had been hanging out with each other. A lot. Especially on the weekends when she spent the nights at my place. Michonne said we were like moths to a flame, that there was a light drawing us together. I didn’t see this light, obviously, but she swore it was there. Michonne always spoke metaphorically. It wasn’t hard to follow, it was just how she spoke.

I guess that’s why she was good at poetry. She just could say the most amazing stuff, and I’m like yep, baby...you're right. All of Michonne... just her being her, was what attracted me the most.

Context clues just told me she had a rough past relationship. The cut-up pictures in her room. That red, angry painting. The way she froze up sometimes when we were around each other. Physically, we were good, but I just wanted more from her. Was that strange?

Michonne would talk to me, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I don’t know if I even understood it at all. It’s like we talked about her classes. We talked about her possibly modeling. We even talked about our friends and family, but she never talked about herself. We were existing without knowing each other on a deeper level. Maybe I made too much out of nothing. Maybe not.

If you wanted to give us a title you couldn’t. She was more than a friend. She was more than a hookup, but we weren’t together. Technically. That didn’t mean we couldn’t get there. I could see us getting there.

Later on we were supposed to go the museum. Inspiration seemed to strike her best when she went there, she explained. I rarely went to the museum. Strange, I know. I’m an artist so I should want to look at all art; that I should want to be in art museums and go to every exhibit. But, in my short time living in New York, I’ve seen it all.

Today was Saturday, and I woke up to a clicking sound. It was the shutter of my camera. When I turned on my back, I noticed Michonne hovering over me, looking great in one of my black t shirts. She was a pretty tiny woman, so it hung off of her shoulder. Half of her locs were up, the features of her face on full display: the high cheek bones, her soft eyes. The light sought her out, like always, draping areas of her body. I wanted to snatch the camera from her hand and take photos of her.

“Hey, man who sleeps til noon,” Michonne said in a deep voice. I grinned, stretching my arms. I was still a bit sleepy, and a yawn I couldn’t control escaped my mouth. I tried to give her a hug, but she stood up, taking several more shots of me. I propped myself up and looked at her.

“You’re like a Greek Adonis. Yes, sexy. Yessss,” she purred like a true photographer. “Hold your arm just like that. I think that’s beautiful. You’re gorgeous, sweetie,” she said in a deeply exaggerated Brooklyn accent. I laughed and tried to grab her ankle, but she did a two-step and escaped me.

“Rick. You almost made me fall.” She snapped more shots. I sat up and grabbed her by the waist, slowly bringing her and my camera down to the bed. For a few seconds she tried to move from under me. I took my camera from her hands, reaching over to put it on the nightstand.

“Nah, I’m handling you like precious cargo.” She sat up and hit me playfully. The air was sweeter when Michonne came around. She made my place brighter.

“All you do is sleep all day. We could’ve went to the museum and came back by now.” Her lips poked out into a pout, and her nimble fingers splayed in my hair.

It was true, though. I slept all day when she stayed over, but usually it was because we were up all night f*cking. She wore me out. But self-control escaped me and I kissed a trail down to her thighs.

“Not everyone acts like they are on a Red Bull every second of the day. You never sit still,” I said biting her thighs in turn, then squeezing them. Her hips moved up and down in a needing motion, though, her mouth expressed different sentiments.

“No, we don’t have time for that. I really want to go to the museum. I’m clogged up right now,” she said in frustration. Lately, she couldn’t write anything. If she painted something it just seemed weird and disjointed. Walking to the museum, and then around the museum, always cleared her mental block. It became sort of cleansing ritual for her, she expressed to me.

“Clogged up? Seems like you just need your pipes cleaned, ma’am,” I said in a p*rno-type voice. She looked me in the eye and started to chuckle. Thoughts of being inside her ran through my mind. Just once before we had to get up for the day. I sat up and grabbed her ankles, gently pulling them apart.

“No, Rick. No, no, no…” she protested as I climbed on top of her. I was still naked from last night. Her legs instantly parted as I settled between them.

“We have a nice day planned,” she pouted. “We’re going to the museum. You said we could shoot some pics in the park today. We can do this after all that.” I nodded my head while Michonne listed our day’s events. I mean, I heard her, but…

“But…” I kissed her neck, “You’re not wearing any underwear right now,” I said to her, breathing heavy. Needing her was something that always took over me. She got me hard at any time of the day. Sometimes I had to look up at the ceiling, the sky, just up and away so I didn’t get hard. Michonne had me like that.

“You sure you don’t need me to fix anything for you,” I said in her ear. Her hips shifted under me, but she shook her head.

“Yeah. I’m good. I mean,” she turned her head and looked away. “I mean, we f*cked a lot of times last night...this morning. I’m just exhausted,” she said to me blowing out a sexy ragged breath. I moved her face towards mine and bit her bottom lip, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against my lips. I started to come up with another reason to f*ck, but my phone started ringing.

It could only be my mom calling when I’m trying to get some, I guessed.

“You should get that,” Michonne insisted, trying to move. I shook my head, only wanting to get her right now.

Michonne giggled and reached for my phone. The ringing was all you could hear in my silent studio apartment. When she saw who was calling, she rolled her eyes. Her entire facial expression went sour. “It’s your girlfriend,” she said. I laughed and she turned the phone around towards me. Lori was calling. Great.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I said to her. She looked at me like I said something stupid and tried to move.

“Let me up,” she said. I tried to kiss her a few times on the lips, but she kept moving her face. After a few lousy attempts to seduce her failed, I rolled to the side of her.

Women.

“What’s wrong?” I looked at her perfect ass as she crossed the bed to get to the floor. Within seconds, Michonne put on her underwear and pants. She wasn’t in a hurry, but she wasn’t slow about it either.

“Does Lori even know about us?” She looked at me and crossed her arms. I sat up. Not blindsided by the question, just not really expecting her to ask it. We only met four weeks ago. The showing was just two weeks ago. And I didn’t care if Lori knew about us. Apparently, Michonne does. I sat up.

“I really haven’t talked to Lori about anything. This is her first time calling me in a couple of days. I missed her last few calls.” Nothing but the truth left my mouth. I liked Michonne. I really liked her, but we really hadn’t been hanging with each other that long. Also, I rarely spoke to Lori. She barely spoke to me, and when we did it was about the pictures in the gallery.

Michonne looked at me for a few seconds then a calm came over her. All the tension seemed to melt away as her shoulders slouched. “I’m tripping. I mean, you said you guys were just friends, right?” she prodded. I looked at her with, I guess, a blank expression.

I’ll admit, I said we were friends, and I don’t recall telling Michonne that I’ve f*cked Lori. I had to be honest. “Ummmmm,” I said fishing around for an appropriate answer. “A little more than friends. We have been…we used to...we....”

“Used to f*ck,” she finished for me. The tone of her voice was more, I don’t know, compared to just five minutes ago when I woke up, more somber. I took in a deep breath and nodded my head.

A little smile crossed her face, and she shook her head, like she was disappointed with me. In herself? I couldn’t tell. I got out of my bed and searched around for my underwear. Michonne put her sneakers on and grabbed her bag. She still had my black t-shirt on.

“I’m going to go. I need to take a shower and change clothes.” Her eyes couldn’t look at mine as she took quick strides to the door.

“Wait, Michonne. Hold on.” I grabbed her hand and brought her closer to me. I get she may have been blindsided. I get that, but I didn’t want this to affect us. Lori didn’t cross my mind. Like at all. The only reason I thought about her now, was because Michonne seemed so taken aback by seeing her call.

“Are you still sleeping with Lori and sleeping with me?” Michonne jumped when I tried to touch her . “Because, like... I told you before that I didn’t want to ruin anything. I don’t want to be your side girl, or thang,” she said, imitating my voice. Even when she was angry she was funny. I shook my head, grinning at her.

“To answer your question, no. But I do faintly remember you seducing me in this very apartment.” She giggled when I pointed to her. “Before that day I hadn’t slept with Lori for a couple of weeks,” I admitted to her. And it was the God's honest truth. I hadn’t been with anyone else, either. Michonne looked down at her feet.

“I’m sorry. I’m just coming out of something really bad, and all those emotional wounds and feelings are still fresh...and I just….” she blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry,” she said kissing my cheek. “I’m doing too much, because we’re just breezing by. Right?” she said to me.

“More than breezing. I want this to be more than a feather in the wind,” I told her. She smiled.

“That’s quite poetic, Rick Grimes.” She ran her fingers through my hair and I closed my eyes. That little thing she did always calmed my soul. When I opened them again, she was staring at me. Seconds passed before I spoke.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” I said in a whisper. I loved her eyes. Soft and full of questions, and always seeking answers. I just loved them.

“Maybe,” she said quickly. “Maybe we both are, in a way.” She moved her hand to my face and cupped my cheek. “Maybe our souls are soaking in one another.” We parted and she looked at her phone as she walked away.

“It’s 12:30, Grimes. Wash your butt, eat some food. Call me, cause I still want to go to the museum,” she opened the door and turned around. “And I’m keeping this shirt,” she said before she walked out my little studio. She left me there...smiling. My phone started to vibrate again. Lori texted me.

Lori: You’ve been ignoring me so much. I’m kind of blown away by that. Anyhow, all of the pictures have sold...just call me when you get this.

I let out another sigh. Damn it. Be a man, Grimes. I cursed to myself. I tossed my phone on the bed and headed to the bathroom.

I had to talk to Lori.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hey, Melissa.” I called my sister while I walked down the sidewalk. I was on the way to Lori’s gallery and I needed some advice. People steadily breezed by me, knocking into me several times, but I was used to it now. A bit of desperateness took over me, and I couldn’t call my mom about this. Calling my dad was a bigger joke. Melissa would know what to do.

“It’s gonna snow in the County in the middle of May. I’m sure of it now. Rick Grimes done called his sister.” Melissa’s voice was the younger version of my mother’s, if you get what I’m saying. They both sounded much alike but were complete opposites.

“Ha. You sound like mom.” I stood at the corner waiting for a long time to cross the street. An onset of cars whizzed past me.

"Well. I’m shocked. You never call me,” she said quickly. I could hear my niece and nephew in the background. It competed with the noise of the city around me.

“I need some advice, Melissa.” There was a silence on the phone. I thought she hung up on me.

“Melissa? Melissa, you there?” Still more silence. I almost hung up, then she spoke.

“Yeah.. I’m here?” The phone went quiet again.

“Why are you not saying anything then?” I asked walking across the street with the crowd that started to accumulate with me.

“I’m really just f*cking surprised. Advice? From me? You been smoking that stuff, Rick?” I laughed while talking.

“Whatever, Ginger.” That’s my insulting nickname for her. She has red, curly hair. Her laugh echoed in my ear.

“What’s up... Dick? I’m cooking.” That was her even more unflattering nickname for me. So Richard, my full name can be shortened to Dick and for my unfortunate ass, Melissa would yell that in the halls in high school.

“So, Melissa. I like this girl...Michonne. This girl is smart and funny. The day just seems to fly by and there is never enough time with her. I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks,” I rushed out.

“And what do you want my help with?” she asked. Brayden and Callie were being extra loud in the background. “Shut up guys,” she screamed in the phone and I had to move my ear away from the receiver.

“You remember Lori, right?” I said when I heard them quiet down.

“Yeah, the girl you went to school with,” she replied. The girl I thought I liked.

“Yep. So, we had like this little thing going on and now I’m talking to Michonne…”

“Michonne is the new girl?” Melissa asked cutting me off.

“Yeah.”

A guy rode past me on a bicycle. “Keep walking you f*cking idiot,” he yelled. I flipped him the bird as he rode away.

Oh, just a typical New York day.

“Talk to Michonne. Cut things off with Lori,” she simply said.

I scratched my head and looked around. The gallery wasn’t much further ahead.“You didn’t even let me finish. How do you know?”

“You told me all I needed to know. The new girl is smart, funny. You can’t spend enough time with her. Lori is the girl you had a little thing wth. Your brain already knows the answer. The big brain and the little one. Stop being a puss*.” My sister loved her colorful language, her curse words. Mom can’t stand the way we curse.

"So, how do I end things with Lori without being a big creep about it?” I asked. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I also thought things were going great with Michonne, and hoped it continued. Honestly….honestly, everything about Michonne blew me away.

“Do you have balls between your legs?” She was such an ass. I blew out a big breath.

“You're a huge ass, but yeah, Melissa,” I huffed out.

“Well, use them, and cut things off with Lori. Don’t string two girls along, even if you’re platonic with both of them. Trust me. A girl will cut them balls off if you mess with their heart. In fact, I arrested a woman-”

“Stop talking like that around the kids,” I said cutting off her conversation before she got to the gory part.

“Oh, shut the hell up. They aren’t even listening to me. Callie has Brayden in a headlock on the kitchen floor….Cut it out guys before I get your dad,” she screamed. I moved the phone again. Their house was always loud.

"Sounds like when you used to beat me up,” I told her. She laughed.

“And mom would yell at us…Yeah.” She blew out a little breath. “ I was always kicking your ass. “I gotta go little bro,” she said to me.

“Okay, Mel. Say hey to the kids for me. I’ll see you guys for thanksgiving this year. I think... Maybe... If I have the money,” I settled on. She smacked her lips.

“If you come home for a holiday, mom would lose her sh*t,” Melissa exclaimed. I laughed.

“Don’t say anything, Melissa. I won’t know until November if I will or not.”

“Alright. And don’t just call when you need advice, Rick. Mom and I want to hear from you.” I felt bad. Guilty.

Life was just so hectic, and I got caught up in it. Frequently. Mel was right though, I needed to call her more. “I’ll get better at it. I just get so wrapped up in my sh*t.”

“Understood. I work 55 hour weeks and have to come home and cook, clean, yell. I make time to call you, even if you don’t answer. Still call us. Visit more than every two years,” she added.

“Gotcha. I mean it,” I said, and we said our goodbyes. My sister and I were close. Out of the entire family, she got me the most. Both of us did things people didn’t expect us to do as far as our careers go. She was a beauty queen who wanted to be a Sheriff. I was a country boy who should've been one, too. Melissa got me, if no one else did.

As soon as I walked in the gallery I looked around for Lori. She just happened to walk from the back as I headed that way. "Well, I haven’t seen you in a while, Rick. Everything been, okay?” Lori said as I gave her a hug. I looked around the gallery. Lori wasted no time displaying another artist's work as the feature.

“I’ve been around. Just hanging out with everyone.” And sleeping with the girl in the pictures you hung in the art gallery.

“Uh-huh,” she dryly said. She had on a tight pink top and an even tighter skirt with black and white polka dots. Her hair was in that slick ponytail. “Everyone’s got your attention like that, huh?” She didn’t let me respond. “Well, the photos sold really well. I’ve got a check for you in the office. You should be very proud of yourself, Rick. I’m proud of you,” Lori said with a smile.

“Thanks, Lori.” I walked with her towards her office in the back. There was a lot more traffic floating around in the showroom. “Business has picked up?” I asked. She turned around, nodding.

“Oh yes. Your show brought in a lot of traffic. Got a few new artists to display their work. I’ve sent you millions of invites and no response.” She shook her head. “You still need to mingle, Rick. Even if you don’t really like that part of the art world where you have to speak with people, sometimes it’s required,” she added. I held the door open for her when we reached her office. She pointed to a chair for me to sit in adjacent to her desk.

“You’re right, Lori. I’ve just been really busy.” Hanging out with Michonne. I sat down in the sleek black chair. Lori’s entire office was sleek and modern. A black leather sofa sat against the wall, along with contemporary art, and sculptures strategically placed on floating wall shelves. A black shag rug sat in front of the sofa. Her glass desk really added to the sleek lines she was creating with the space.

“You redecorated?” I asked her when she sat down.

“Yes. Took me about two weeks.” There was a brief pause as she looked around. “That’s about how long you’ve been ignoring me,” she added as if it was a normal part of the conversation, although I could hear the snideness in the comment.

I countered. “I can remember getting the voicemail a lot from you, too.”

She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “Touche.” Sitting up, Lori reached for her briefcase and pulled out an envelope. “Don’t be alarmed by the number. We had a sort of bidding war for one set of photos. The ones where our beautiful model is by the window. These two men practically wanted to pay an arm and a leg for them. One of them did.” Lori excitedly handed me the check.

I opened the envelope and peeked at the number. A cold sweat appeared on my brow. It was a lot of money. A lot of money. “This is a lot of money for 12 pictures,” I told her. She smiled and agreed.

“Especially for such an up-and-coming artist. The pictures were so beautifully done, Rick. And Michonne is quite the subject. Just a profound piece of art. Speaking of Miss Michonne, have you spoken to her lately?” Everyday just about.

“Yeah. We talk quite a lot.” It just spilled right out of me. Lori started to think while looking at me. She pursed her lips together.

“Oh. Are you guys working on something else? That could be exciting. I already know it’ll be..”

“Um. Not really. I’m kind of…” My sentence was cut short by the ringing of her office phone.

“Excuse me for a sec.” She picked up the receiver. “This is Lori...Travis...Yes, hello...Yes. I think that artist has something special...I know a few…” she was saying, but I tuned her out.

I looked down at the check in my hand. I could pay my mom back plus some more. I could give Daryl the money he loaned me. And Glenn... And Jesus. This was going to hold me over for a couple of months. And it was all because of twelve pictures. All because of Michonne.

My phone was at 10% and I needed to let Michonne know I’d be at her house in an hour. I texted her a few times, but she didn’t respond. I hoped she wasn’t mad about earlier. Like I mentioned before, it was hard to read her. Lori’s attention found my waving hand and I mouthed, “I have to go.” She held her finger up and nodded her head.

“Okay, Travis...Yes, lunch will do fine. Tell Angie hello for me. Yes...yes...I have to go...Okay. Bye.” She quickly hung up the phone and stood.

“We should get drinks soon. When is a good day for you?” she asked. She walked over closer to me and dusted lint off of my shirt. “I’ve missed you. Rick. Seems like you’re too busy now. Can’t imagine what has gotten your attention. You must be seeing someone?” Lori asked. I just looked at her. Women figure every f*cking thing out. I took a step back so I could talk to her.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to tell you earlier. I’m dating someone.” Each word measured. Lori took a step back and crossed her arms. Her entire face looked like I just hit her; her cheeks were bright red.

“Oh....Well. That’s unfortunate. I thought we had our thing going,” Lori smiled at me. How could I break things off with her, and not make her feel bad? When I took too long to answer, the smile started to fade away. The expression on her face made me speak up.

“It just happened out of nowhere. And I don’t want to string you along... I don’t want to string her along. I kind of just want to start off on a clean slate.” On the inside, my mind was racing. I was ending things with Lori. Officially. She had been a part of my life in New York since Art school. It wasn’t like we weren’t going to be friends; we just couldn’t have sex anymore. Okay, maybe that meant we couldn’t be friends. But I hope it didn’t.

“Well…who is it? Do I know who this person is?” Lori asked. I couldn’t lie to her. She deserved more than that.

I let out a little breath. “Michonne,” I simply said. “It just kind of happened, and I thought you should know.” We both stood there, kind of at a loss for words.

Lori’s flat expression turned bitter, and she took a few more steps back. She tried to fake a genuine smile, but her cheeks trembled. “I see. And you’re sure that you just want to rush and end what we had going. We have a good thing here. I’m busy. You’re busy. We chill and do what we do. It’s...good,” she rushed out.

“That’s kind of why. We haven’t been going anywhere. We’re just stuck in this spot, coasting. I kind of want more.” And I did. I wanted more with Lori for as long as I could remember, but she was happy with us just getting drinks or something to eat, hooking up, then leaving in the morning. It was getting old to me.

“After a year of doing this, I would have expected you to want more, too. I don’t know, Lori. This all sucks.” She blinked a few times, then looked around. When she started to move closer to me, a look I had never seen from her crossed her face.

“You don’t want this to end, do you, Rick?” Her voice was low and sexy. She kissed me on the lips, with a lot of passion, but I wasn’t feeling it. Not at all. She moved her hands over my chest and towards my belt buckle. Thank God someone barged in her office without knocking. There was a weird tension in the room. I was the cause of it, and that made me feel worse.

“Lori. There was a buyer on the line who wanted to know about an upcoming show. Do you have the details on that?” she asked. Lori nodded and walked away like I wasn’t there.

“Yeah, what line are they on?” Lori said, looking around near her laptop. She seemed out of it, looking for something, but not really looking.

“Two,” the energetic girl said, holding up the same number of fingers. Lori became preoccupied and the young woman walked away from the door. This was my clearing to walk out of her office, but Lori said my name again, hurrying over to me.

“Call me so we can discuss things further. I really want to talk more about this.” She smoothed my shirt out and smiled with her eyes. I hated this. It wasn’t what I wanted at all. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and when I pulled away and looked at her, I felt like she knew. Deep down, she had to know I was serious. A nod of silent agreement moved her head up and down.

We were friends before we even started anything. I hoped it could still be that way. I had a feeling Lori would hate me for a while, but I was ready to move on. I didn’t know what would happen with Michonne; didn’t know anything, really, but I knew I wanted to see. I wanted to start fresh with her.

“You are a wonderful person, Lori. And I just wanted to-” she held her finger up and shook it.

“No need for that.” I wouldn’t say that she was angry. Maybe hurt? Maybe confused? I wasn’t sure. The line on hold started to beep letting her know it had been a while since they were placed on hold. We both looked at the office phone.

“I should get this call...um. You call me if you need anything.” Her face was blank, and I felt like the biggest dick. I didn’t realize it would upset her this much. I thought because we were so casual this wouldn’t affect her. That’s what made the entire thing about this bad for me.

Major Asshole Grimes, at your service.

“I’m sorry, Lori.” She ignored me, picked up the phone and started talking. Her tone was completely different.

You deserve the “dick of the year” award, Grimes.

“Yes. This is Lori. Hello, Charles. How’s Elizabeth? That’s great. Yes. I’m doing fine. Oh yes...well, here are the details you need…” I looked at her one last time, wanting to say something, but I decided to walk out of her office instead.

That was rougher than I expected.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

My phone died, and Michonne was probably really pissed at me. I was supposed to meet up with her around four o’clock. It was almost five by now. I was so desperate to let her know that I wasn’t flaking on her. The thought gave me a bit of anxiety.

I decided to go to her apartment and see if I could catch her there before I headed home. A few younger guys were sitting on her stoop talking about girls and sports. Conversations I used to have with the guy's back home. Someone walked out of her building, and I caught the door before it closed.

Loud laughter and music played in the background, echoing from behind her door. I knocked a few times and there was no answer. Just when I was about to knock again, she opened the door.

“Rick?” She seemed surprised to see me. “You didn’t get my message?”

I took my phone out, holding it up so she could see the lifeless screen. “Nah, my phone died. What’s up?” I gave her a hug. When I tried to go inside her apartment she blocked my way.

“My mom is here,” she said quietly. f*ck, she was sexy right now. The only thing she had on was jean shorts and a white tank, and she was so beautiful in it.

“Oh, okay.” I said in the same tone. We looked at each other for a few seconds like we were in a staring contest. The silence was deafening, even with the music playing.“Well, can I come in?” I asked. That question shocked her even more.

“But I told you my mom is here,” she said again quietly, and I laughed.

“Do you not want me to meet your mom?” Michonne bit her bottom lip as she thought about something. My own thoughts took over, and images of her plump lips crept in my mind. I couldn’t recall lusting after someone like this. Like, literally Michonne stayed on my mind all day.

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t think you would want to meet her.” A soft, airy, child-like voice left her. Mostly doubt mixed with surprise. She’s so adorable. I pulled her against my body, her warmth already making my day better.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I said looking at her mouth. Those lips of hers had to be kissed. I had to have them. I was slow about my need for them, savoring the softness of her skin. My mind was at ease. Missing her overwhelmed me sometimes. For some reason, she just made me feel different. She stepped back and smiled at me with half-lidded eyes. Damn. I wanted her right now.

“We just met and we’re just getting to know each other-” She started to say some more, but I kissed her again.

“Do you have friends?” I grabbed her hips and swayed them against me. She tightened her lips into a twisted smile, nodding her head.

“Yes. I have friends…asshole.”

“Well, your guy friend would love to meet your mom. Gotta eventually meet the woman who made my muse.” Michonne always looked at me like I confused her…like she could never believe anything I said.

“Okay. So, she came over to hang with me and we ordered pizza, and she’s drinking wine, and she brought the family cat. Are you allergic to cats?”

“No,” I said, kissing her forehead. “No museum today, huh?”

“Not today. You get your wish.” Michonne combed her fingers through my hair. The best feeling. I grinned and shook my head.

“No. I wanted to go. Rushed over here from Lori’s gallery to see you-”

“You saw Lori today?” I could see the fire dim in her eyes. Lori was a touchy subject for Michonne. I needed her to realize that she didn’t have to be.

“Yeah. I’ll explain later. Let’s get inside. Don’t want your mom waiting too long.” The hardest thing about Michonne was just reading her. I could never tell how she felt.

Michonne nodded and opened the door. “I’m warning you now. My mother can be a bit… exuberant.”

“More than my mom…more than you?” I asked, thinking about how high-energy she could be.

“Yeah. Beats your mom by a mile…and shut up about me," she added.

I smirked. If anybody was as lively as my mom, I had to meet them. She turned around and opened the door. The music increased in volume and someone was happily singing in the background.

“Maaa, I have company!” Michonne yelled.

Out of the kitchen walked a short woman, shorter than Michonne. She had on oversized jeans that seemed to get wider at the bottom, and a white collared t-shirt. Her hair was in a bun, and the product she put in it caused several waves or ripples to form. I remember Michonne telling me she worked at the local theater. All three of us looked around at one another. Her mother’s lips slowly turned up into a smile. Especially when her eyes grew wide with realization.

“You’re the guy Michonne was talking about in that video. The one Sasha showed me the other day.” Her finger pointed at me, and I was confused, but Michonne blew out a shocked breath. Her eyes were big when she looked at her mom.

“Ma! Why would you say that?” Her gaze darted towards me to see if I knew what was going on and I shook my head. I had the slightest idea what her mom was talking about.

“Well. I just assumed cause of the blue eyes and all. You’re so dramatic, Michonne. I’m Yvonne. Michonne’s lovely mother. And you must be, Rick.” Yvonne extended her hand for me to shake.

“Yes, ma’am that would be me.” So, her mom knows about me. Interesting. I turned to Michonne, and she shyly looked away.

“I could see how you could fall into those eyes, Michonne,” her mother commented and Michonne stepped forward. She was embarrassed and couldn’t bring herself to look at me.

“You want another glass of wine, mother.” Michonne walked away trying to divert the conversation, but I was interested, and felt left out.

“What video?” I asked out of nowhere. Michonne stopped in her tracks.

“It’s nothing,” she said when she turned around. “It’s not a big deal. My mom can be…”

“Oh, I’ll show you,” Yvonne said, heading to get her phone. Michonne looked like she might pass out. Then I faintly remembered back to the jam session conversation she had with Sasha, Tara, and Rosita. Which led my thoughts to travel back to the day of the open mic when she read her poem.

She couldn’t have been talking about me.

I couldn’t believe she was talking about me in the poem. I really didn’t link that. To be fair, poetry’s not really my thing. I was more intrigued by her delivery of it, than the actual words. I guess I got caught up in the passion of her storytelling.

“Ma, please come to the kitchen with me. Rick, you can sit down on the couch if you’d like.” Yvonne walked over to Michonne and shrugged her shoulders.

“You’re always so shy. But am I right? Is that the guy?” I could hear her say as they entered the kitchen. I couldn’t help that I was nosey. I also couldn’t help that the apartment was small, and I could hear their little conversation.

“Maaa…you do this with every guy. You did it with Mike. You did it with John…”

“Don’t even say his name, Michonne,” her mother said. “If I ever saw him again-”

“Well, you won’t see him, because he moved in with that girl, and they are going to keep the baby and that’s that,” Michonne said. Her voice lost its color, and sadness took over it.

“You keep falling in love with these guys. Mike wasn’t too bad, he just moved to Florida to go to school. But that damn John Negan. He really needs his ass whooped. He cheats on you, then the girl gets pregnant.” Her mom kept going on as if she was more upset about it than Michonne.

“Well, Mom. I’m good. I cried for a week, and I won’t cry anymore about it. Him and Jennifer can be a great family, and raise their kid together. John and I talked, and he made his decision. It wasn’t me.” After that I didn’t hear any conversation, only the clinking of glasses and the closing of a cabinet. “Ma, just...”

“Just protect your heart, baby. That’s all I’m saying. You already falling for that boy in there. I can see it in them big brown eyes. I just don’t want you crying again cause your heart is broken.”

“I’m not doing anything. We’re hanging out. I like him. I’ll admit that. He’s different. This whole thing is different, because I’m not expecting anything from it. It’s kind of just happening. And I like that there's no pressure. I know you worry about me…that I had you worried a couple of weeks ago, but I’m not rushing anything. I’m good, ma.”

“I hear you, but do you hear yourself?” Her tone was a bit doubtful. It seemed like her mom might not like me at all.

“I do,” Michonne said quietly.

“Okay. You’re a young woman, Michonne, and there is so much life to explore right now. Just take your time. You understand?”

“Yes, Ma.” The glasses could be heard again and then Michonne walked out.

“Hey. Sorry to keep you waiting so long,” I looked at her and smiled. I had a knack for eavesdropping and pretending like I hadn’t heard a thing. The innate cop in me, I guess.

“It’s cool. I just looked around the apartment. Made myself comfortable here.” I patted the couch.

“Good. You want some wine?” She asked and I nodded my head. Michonne definitely had a little past. I needed to know more. Her mom walked out smiling at me.

“So you’re the guy who took naked pictures of my daughter for money?” she asked. I couldn’t really read her tone. It was pleasant, definitely challenging.

“Well, she never was exposed. I tried to keep it as tasteful as possible.”

“Oh, Michonne showed a couple to me. She was lovely in them. You have an eye for natural beauty.”

“I like to think that. Like to think I see things others don’t see in themselves.” I glanced at Michonne then back to her mother.

Michonne’s mother chuckled. “Seems to me, you like to think a lot. You like to ruminate...to muse.”

“Good or bad thing?” I asked her mother. She gave me a genuine smile from ear to ear.

“Depends on what you are thinking about.” She took a sip of her wine and then sat back whistling for the cat, Nefertiti. He never came to her. “And you’re a painter like Michonne?” Yvonne asked when she got comfortable. I teetered my head back and forth. The all black family car jumped onto my lap. I stroked its silky coat.

“Um, not as good as her. Photography is my thing. Michonne definitely came through in a bind and saved my life for that show I did.” I didn’t want to make things awkward so I didn’t fawn over her. Michonne’s mother didn’t seem too trusting of me, and she had good reason… she was protective over her daughter.

“He’s being modest. He has these paintings in his studio that he should sell. I still want one of them to put in my room,” Michonne complimented as she looked my way. I took a sip of my wine.

“Thanks, Michonne,” I said looking at her.

“No problem, Rick.” Michonne’s eyes met mine. It was hard not to look at Michonne…not to stare at her…not to want to put all my energy into taking her in. It seemed like I missed things that were in plain sight and it kind of amazed me. Her mother’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“I didn’t want to say this earlier because I want to be cautious with my words, but there is a light between the two of you.” That comment made us both look at her mother. Yvonne continued. “A source of energy that’s burning bright.”

I looked away from Yvonne to look at Michonne. We were both smiling because Michonne said that to me earlier. I could see now where Michonne got her colorful expressions from. For some reason, it made me like her mom just as much too, because she helped mold Michonne into the woman she was.

My eyes searched for Michonne’s again and I felt lost, but found. Does that even make sense? I was aimless, lost…

I was wandering the world, until I met her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I drank a lot of wine and decided to relieve myself. After we talked for a while, it appeared her mom had warmed up to me, which was nice because she had great conversation. She spoke about the celebrities she worked with before they were even famous. The family cat even became close to me.

Suddenly, an old conversation popped in my mind, and my thoughts wandered to that video. I had to hear the poem again. “Excuse me ladies. Nature calls.” Michonne giggled.

“You’re so lame,” she said.

I kissed her forehead, then whispered in her ear. "You called me something else last night in bed.” I stood and took a step back to look at her and saw her chest rise up and down. The tiniest of smiles pulled at her cheeks.

I went to the bathroom and put my detective skills to work. Really, I just put in a few searches and scrolled through the list of videos until I saw what looked like Michonne on stage. The image was frozen with just her hands in an expressive gesture. I clicked the video and watched it.

"Thanks, Sasha. Hello, everyone. Thanks for letting me share my words with you. I feel it's important we let go of whatever is inside of us. Even if you don't happen to care, you at least know how I feel. This is called "I Told Myself."

I told myself I wasn't going to fall again.

That I wasn't going to

Fall

Into the trap of a man's eyes again.

Brown open windows

into a soul of peace. At least that's what they tell me.

They'll lie and say I'm the one. That I'm the only one who gets to go into that window.

That I'm the only one who could climb into their mind and know their deepest thoughts.

But I realized

those windows were doors, and everyone could just walk into them,

and

I'd be the one locked out.

Now, I'm threatened again by some blue windows. Clearer and Pure.

I told myself I wouldn't fall again.

But I'm just going to brace myself,

For the plunge.

And this time I listened to the words. Each one. Several times, over and over until I almost had it to memory. A knock at the door made me panic, and I tried to stop the video. That’s when Michonne walked in. She looked at the video playing in my hand. I quickly spoke before she did.

“You’re talking about me in this?” My phone was in my hand and I held it up. We could hear her voice echoing in the tiny bathroom. Michonne covered her face.

“You searched for the video?” Her face was still buried in her hands. “You are very lame.”

“You like me? Like...Like, Like me?” I asked, ignoring her previous statement, pulling her hands off of her face one by one. She looked so embarrassed. Michonne had to be the cutest person alive. I lifted her chin, smiling as she kept trying to avoid my stare.

“That’s why my mother likes you now. You and her like to mortify me to no end,” she said looking up at me. All I could do was grin.

“I’m a likable person. Something worth plunging into, so I hear,” a smile tugged at my lips. She started to walk away, and I grabbed her arm. “If it makes you feel less sheepish, I don’t have a problem admitting that I like you. A lot.” I hugged her tight.

“I saw Lori today and got a check for the photos. I made a lot of money because of you, so I’m giving you some of it.”

“You don’t have to do that, Rick. The money you gave me for doing it is enough,” I grabbed one of her hands, interlocking our fingers together.

“Nah. You deserve more. I was expecting to get the price Lori and I agreed each painting was worth, but she said there was a bidding war. The price went up because of you,” I showed her the check. Her mouth popped open.

“You’re an upsell. I captured you in the photos, but you brought them to life, and made people want them. I owe several people, but I owe you the most, Michonne.” I brought her closer to me and kissed her lips. “I told Lori that it was over. That I was moving on, and dating you.” A shocked expression covered her again, and she leaned back in my arms.

“You told Lori that you and I are dating?” she questioned. I nodded my head, kissing her hand that was in mine.

“Yes, it was the right thing to do, because I want to see where you and I can go. I want this to go somewhere, Michonne.” She put her head down and I kissed the top of it.

“I don’t want to rush into anything, though, Rick. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, I-” Her head moved into my chest and she moved it back and forth there. Almost wrestling with her words and emotions.

My finger lifted her chin and I kissed her lips, one at a time. “We are going to go slow. I told you that. But I want to go slow with you. I want to try and make you happy. I want you to trust me. Okay?” I expressed. She seemed moved by what I said, and she could barely look at me.

“Where did you come from?” Was all she managed to say when she looked at me.

“Well my parents are Janine and Richard Grimes, Senior. I believe they gave birth to me in King County, Georgia,” I raised my eyebrows repeatedly.

“You’re such an ass,” she said, hitting my shoulder.

“I’m your ass, now,”

“Yep…” she looked down at my backside, “That’s all mines.”

I grabbed hers and jiggled it in my hand. “This is mine, too.” A giggle left her throat.

“My mom is still here,” she said slightly worried I would f*ck her in the bathroom. I grinned and squeezed it one last time.

“When your mom leaves, I’m tearing this thing up,” I said, kissing her lips once more. They were so soft. Like two luscious pillows that I got to lay my lips on every chance I needed to.

“Come on, boy.” Michonne tried to leave my arms and I pulled her closer.

“I mean it, Michonne.” I said with a serious tone. I wanted her to understand that I was being real. That I was telling her the truth. “I want you, and only you,” She nodded. I didn’t know if she believed me or not. But I hoped she did.

I needed her to.

Chapter 7: Say the wrong thing

Chapter Text

Say The Wrong Thing

“Come on guys. If you want to keep up with us, you’re gonna have to pick up the pace,” Sasha said as her and Michonne led the way on the trail. We, which included me, Michonne, Sasha, and Daryl, decided to go running on this great May morning.

Daryl looked like he may pass out. Sweat coated all of us, but it drowned him. You see, Daryl smoked cigarettes, and rarely worked out. I never worked out, but I did a lot of walking. He was always on that damn motorcycle.

“I’m dying, girls. Whose…idea was it to run… through Central Park?” he asked through strained breaths. Michonne grinned and paused running forward so she could match our pace.

“You should thank my boyfriend, Daryl. He’s the one who said he wanted to get back into shape,” she said with a grin. I smacked her butt. A few weeks had passed, and we were both trying. June was nearly here, and we were trying to give this relationship a go.

“I like when you call me that,” I said grinning at her. Her grin was just as wide. She stopped running and I paused too.

“What? Boyfriend?” She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my lips. “My boyfriend….Rick Grimes.”

“Yeahhhh,” I kissed her cheek. Michonne had on a blue tank and some black biker shorts. “We need to hurry this up so me and you can go exercise at home,” I said raising my eyebrow. She giggled.

“We do work out a lot at home…this is true, and while it helps with our breathing, and flexibility-”

“How did you even get your leg to do that?” I said remembering this morning. Michonne smiled, smoothing my white t-shirt against my chest.

“Let’s just say, I used to be really into yoga in high school.”

“Dear Yoga...Thank you,” I said to the clouds in the sky with a big grin. She playfully hit my chest. Daryl’s loud voice made us turn to him.

“That’s it…I’m done…Can’t…run anymore…I need a cigarette.” Daryl sat down in the grass. Sasha, who was in a zone, stopped in her tracks and ran back towards everyone.

“So, you punks just gone let a sister run down the path and not stop me. And you lames havin’ like this romantic scene, and Daryl is just…”

“Dying. You and Michonne are killing me with this running. I feel worse after I run than after I smoke,” he said lighting up a cigarette. Sasha rolled her eyes.

“Daryl, haven’t I explained why you feel that way…” Sasha said as she walked off towards him.

Michonne and I spotted a bench to sit down on. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and she settled against me.

“You’re all sweaty,” she said scrunching up her face, though, she pulled my arm around her more.

“You like it,” I said to her. “What you got planned for the day?”

“We are having lunch with your friends. Remember? Maggie called and wanted to catch up with you.” Michonne reminded me. Oh. I completely forgot we were having lunch with Maggie and Glenn.

“We’re supposed to do that today?”

“You don’t want to?” she wondered. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Not really, but Maggie really wants to catch up. Said she had some stuff she wants to discuss with us.” Meaning, she was tired of asking me to ask Michonne to model. Ironically, I didn’t want her to model now. I wanted her to spend as much of her summer break with me before she went back to school.

“I have to go to the rec center for two hours, also,” she reminded me. I had a terrible memory right now, which was odd because I remembered little details all the time. I’ll admit, I was distracted, but it was the best distraction ever.

“Leaving me again today?” I said with a pout. Michonne giggled. People were walking their dogs and running on the path in the park, as well. A younger guy with long brown hair played his guitar off to the side. The park during this time was always a party no matter what you were doing.

“Stop it with that lip, before I bite it,” she said as more people ran by us.

“I like when you bite me, so that’s not really a threat,” I said to her.

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” she said in this f*cking sultry ass voice. I went for a kiss, but she pulled away teasing me. I tried again, but Sasha ran our way, clearing her throat and waving a finger.

“Nope. You guys know there are kids playing in the park. Don’t nobody have time for this p*rno scene. Get a f*cking room.” Sasha pulled on Michonne. “Come on, sis. Let’s get our workout in, and leave these two grandpas chasing our tails,” Sasha said with a serious tone. Michonne laughed at her, the sun shining bright against the edges of her cheekbones, the curve of her shoulders. This was a picture worthy moment.

Where was my f*cking camera?

“We’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Michonne said to me.

“Okay.” I kissed her cheek. Michonne got up and looked back at me before she jogged away with Sasha. I hated seeing her leave me; we had gotten so close. Not obsessively close, just...I don’t know. I still wanted to absorb all of her, and that only happened when we spent time together.

“You two serious, now?” Daryl said grabbing his water bottle and taking gulps of the drink.

“Define serious?” I asked him. Daryl smiled.

“Are you two so far up each other’s butts, you’re forgetting about the world...about life?”

“You are a poetic son of a bitch,” I joked. Daryl grinned.

“I don’t write all the music in the group for nothing.”

“I can tell,” I said, f*cking with him. He took his water bottle and flung it at me.

“You are avoiding my original observation. Are you and the supermodel serious?”’

I chuckled and nodded my head. “Very serious.”

“What about Lori?” Daryl asked.

I hadn’t broadcast to the world what happened with us. That wasn’t the type of guy I wanted to be. And we were never officially together. The situation was already delicate enough, but Daryl asked, so I answered.

“I ended it completely. She was shocked...maybe even angry, but I think with time we’ll be okay. Lori is a gorgeous girl with a lot going for herself. She’s a catch for anybody-”

“Just not for you,” he added, flicking his cigarette into the breeze.

“Don’t do that,” I mothered to him. Daryl scoffed and I continued, “You know, after a while you start to see that even with all the effort you put into getting something, if it’s not meant to be. It’s just not.”

“Look at Rick Grimes with the poeticism.”

“Michonne’s rubbing off on me.” And she really was. In all the best possible ways.

“I get where you coming from, man. Sasha is someone that makes me think, you know. Like, Geez I don’t have to be a dick. I can be a good guy. And I laugh with her man. She’s so funny. Amazing how sexy that is for me, someone who has sex thrown in their face at every concert. She’s supportive. She talks to me. She makes me feel good.” Daryl went on and on about Sasha. I felt the exact way about Michonne. Except, I didn’t have sex thrown at me all the time from random women.

I grinned. “Seems like we’re both in the same boat.”

“Yeah. It seems that way. Ain’t a bad boat to be in,” he added.

I liked that I wasn’t the only one in this right now. Michonne was my girlfriend. That’s how I introduced her to everyone now. We walked down the street, and it felt good knowing I had a girlfriend. That I had someone I trusted enough with all of my thoughts and hopes and wishes.

It felt good knowing that she made strides to try for us. She didn’t have to. She had every right to keep holding back. To remember what that douche did to her, but she chose me and that felt good. It felt good as hell.

“So, our single is coming out soon, and Jesus really wants to do that idea we talked about at the studio that night.” Daryl said. I had to think for a moment about what he was referring to. Then, I remembered.

“You want Michonne in the video?” I asked looking over to him. Sweat dripped off of my hair and into my eye, stinging it. I wiped it away.

“Cherokee Rose wants Michonne, Sasha, Tara, and Rosita in the video. But Jesus wants your girl as the lead. You know the girl being drooled over,” Daryl explained. All I could think about was her being in a tight minidress and all the guys in the band fawning over her. I wanted to say no, but I wasn’t Michonne’s boss.

Daryl continued. “An exec from the record company saw her at Lori’s gallery. Talk about a small world. Dude thinks she’s a legit model, wants to pay her a lot of money for the gig.” Oh, so you want my girlfriend to be ogled by the world, and I’m just supposed to be okay with that?

“Yeah. Um...I’ll talk to Michonne about it,” I said hoping it was the truth coming out my mouth. Was I being...jealous? Yep, you’re acting like a jealous prick right now, Grimes. But then again. Only your eyes get to view her. Only yours.

So, yeah, I figured I was territorial. I could be, but I had to tell her about this. It was a great opportunity and money was involved. I would tell her about this…

...soonish.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Can I come in?” she asked while I shaved at the sink. I smiled and looked at her, rinsing my blade off.

“Yeah.” I stared at her for a few moments. She had my robe on. I loved seeing her in it, and in my studio, walking around and fitting in. She made my bleak space brighter somehow.

Apparently, we were supposed to have lunch with Maggie and Glenn at noon. Though, when we got back to the apartment at ten, I needed to get my one-on-one exercise in with Michonne. Then, we fell asleep. Now, she had to rush to the rec center to paint with the kids. It was now 1:00pm. At four I was meeting her so we could get to Manhattan, and Michonne wanted to go to her place before we got to that side of the river to change for Maggie’s dinner, because we missed lunch. Whew!

She turned on the shower and walked over to me. I still had half of my face to shave, but Michonne became a welcomed distraction. “What does Maggie want again? She’s serious about this now dinner thing.” She stepped in front of me and took the razor blade from my hand. Slowly, she put it up to my cheek and started a path down the white shaving cream.

“You.” I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tight.

“You should let me go, just so I won’t cut you,” she raised her eyebrows. I happened to agree with her and loosened my grasp on her. Michonne rinsed the blade off and started on another trail.

“She wants me to model?” she questioned.

“She wants you to model,” I confirmed.

Michonne blew out a little breath and moved on with her task. “I’ve been avoiding this topic, but I don’t think it’s for me.” She rinsed my blade off again.

Honestly, I didn’t want her to model. Call me selfish. Call me selfish, territorial or jealous all you want, but I didn’t want people talking about her like they did in the bathroom at the opening. I didn’t want men like Lori’s father hovering over her. Yeah, call me selfish all you want. Michonne continued to shave my face until she finished.

She grabbed a washcloth from beside me and ran warm water over it, turning back around to place it on my face. The steam from the washcloth felt amazing against my skin. I grinned.

“You a barber, too?” I asked, picking with her. Her head tilted to the side, a smile stretching across her face.

“Ha ha ha. No. My grandfather was, though. Had a shop out in Harlem. I used to ride the subway there after school sometimes,” she said with a smile. I moved a loose loc from in front of her face. When she took the washcloth off, I looked in the mirror.

“Pretty good job,” I said impressed. Michonne walked away, smacking my butt, and took her robe off. She hung it up on one of the hooks I had on the wall.

“You getting in?” she asked looking behind her. The curves of her lines flowing down to her beautiful ass.

Of course I was getting in behind her.

I quickly took my boxers off and hopped in the shower.When I got inside, I tried to kiss her, but she turned away from me. “Wash my back for me, please? I have to take advantage of this opportunity.” She giggled.

Ohhh, we were really just taking a shower. Like, a normal one.

I took the small cloth out of her hand and grabbed the soap, making it as sudsy as possible. The water dripped all over her body, and her hair brushed against my chest. And that ass. It was right up against me. I knew what was bound to happen.

“What do you have planned today after dinner?” I tried to keep my cool, but her wet, slippery, shiny body was distracting me.

“Since I’ll be in Manhattan, I’m meeting up with Sasha. I have an open mic I promised her I would go to,” she said moving her dreads so I could wash her neck. Damn, she looked so good.

“Why didn’t I get an invite to this?” I asked moving the cloth down her back. She swayed forward some.

“Didn’t think you’d want to come. You’re probably tired of seeing my face.” Michonne looked back over her shoulders, timidly. I moved her locs out of the way and kissed behind her ear.

“I don’t get tired of being around you.” I whispered. I never got tired of her.

“Really?” She turned around and grabbed the shampoo from the caddy on the side, pouring some onto my hair.

“Yes. Really. Am I invited?” She nodded her head and looked up at me as her fingers moved through my hair. “Are you washing my hair?”

“Umhmm.” Her fingers felt like several miniature people were massaging my scalp.

I moaned in appreciation, and she chuckled. “That feel good?"

“Umhmmm,” I mumbled out. Better than good. I mean, when I say I f*cking loved her fingers in my hair, I loved her fingers in my hair. She stood on her tippy toes to lather each strand better. The tips of her nipples brushed against my chest. The steam, the temperature, and other things, were starting to rise in my rather small bathroom.

“Where is your conditioner?” she asked looking around. I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed her waist to keep her steady.

I shrugged. “I don’t have any.”

“Oh, Rick... Conditioning is the most important part. I’m going to get you some.” Her fingers continued to work their magic, and she smiled at me.

We both were less chatty. The effects of both of our workouts wearing down on us. We just stared at one another as she massaged my scalp. “Time to rinse.” Her voice was low, and she looked so pretty. I liked this girl. A lot.

“Okay.” I stood under my shower head. My bathroom was pretty old school, and so was the plumbing. The water pressure wasn’t the best, but the f*cker got hot. I would be red as hell when I got out the shower.

“It’s not too hot for you? Most guys don’t like it this hot,” she wondered. I shook my head.

“I’m a southern boy. The heat is nice.” I raised my eyebrow. “And most guys. How many guys have you taken showers with?” She looked away and smiled.

“None. You’re the first. I read about hot showers on a website one day. A bunch of guys were saying when they take showers with their significant other, they hate how hot the woman gets the water.”

“Magazines seem to have the answers for all of life’s problems.” Soapy water dripped down my face and I closed my eyes. I ran my hands over my head, allowing more soap to leave my strands. When I wiped my face, Michonne was washing herself.

“You need some more help?” I grinned.

“Nope.” She rubbed the cloth over her, taking her time in places. Teasing me. I thought back to last night. And each time we’ve been together. I’ve never had sex like this before. Never. I say it after each time, but it’s true. It’s different with Michonne. Just different.

I also realized that I’ve been reckless in the protection area. I get so worked up, and it’s not on purpose, but needing to have sex with Michonne makes me rush to get inside of her. I’m anxious to know what sounds she’ll make when I hit that spot she likes. Or, how breathy she gets when I kiss down her stomach. How sexy she looks when she squeezes her eyes shut and her head falls back, exposing her neck. Damn.

“Are you on birth control?” I blurted out. Random, but relevant, Grimes. She turned around and moved me out the way so she could rinse off. Our bodies slid against each other, and I caught her, before she slipped. She stood under the shower head.

“Yes. I take the pill,” she said casually. I didn’t want her to think I meant to be irresponsible. I grabbed my washcloth from the caddy and started to cleanse my body.

“You know, my goal when we-” I fished around for the right word. It was more than f*cking. I didn’t know what to call it and sex seemed too mundane. Making love just didn’t seem right either, although, I don’t think I ever made love to someone.

“f*ck,” she simply said. The playful mood she had disappeared altogether, and she turned to face me.

I spoke again. “I wouldn’t call it that. I think we do more than just f*ck.” I pulled her closer. Her smile was less than enthusiastic, which worried me. “It’s always my intent to use caution...to use protection. I wouldn’t want to get us into a... situation,” I said choosing my words carefully. Michonne smiled, but it wasn’t her normal beautiful smile. Her expression washed down the drain, along with the water from our bodies.

“It’s cool, Rick. We’ll be more careful. And I’m on birth control. There will not be any accidents. No slips ups...no visits to the clinic. None of that,” she said as if I wasn’t there. More like she talked at me than to me. Michonne got out of the tub and there I stood, confused, and in my hot ass shower.

I finished up, got out, and grabbed a towel. I dried my hair with it as much as I could, before I wrapped it around my waist. “Michonne?” I followed her to my bed, where she sat drying off. She looked over at me.

“Michonne, what was that about? Did I say the wrong thing? I don’t know, I’m not really good with words, I just think of the first thing tha-”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m too dramatic for you. I’m just really all over the place and I expect you to understand, but you can’t read my mind. This will never work.” She blurted out, then looked inside of her overnight bag, finding some light blue jeans and a white tank. I watched her as she put on her panties and bra. She mesmerized me, until I realized she was trying to end this.

“Why can’t this work? What did I do?” I tried to understand. I really did, but she was right. I couldn’t read her mind. She would have to open up, or I would have to open her up. So far, it seemed like whatever I said popped open every old wound she had.

“You’re too...ughhh,” she started pointing around my studio. “You got this banging ass apartment. You got a great job where you set your own hours, so you have all this free time. You don’t have kids. You can go to bars and drink and have like an adult life, and I’m still stuck, in school, being young and hating on this dumb, stupid asshole, and projecting all my bullsh*t from him onto you. I can’t even go to a bar with you and drink.” Her breasts shook as she tried to put her black bra on. I listened to every word she was saying, every word, but her breasts were so beautiful right now.

“I mean look at you,” she said pointing to me, pausing in putting her white tank on. “Those beautiful eyes. Those beautiful lips. That f*ckin hair. That smile. Who f*cking smiles like that. It’s ridiculous. Some girls will try you when you're out and you men...ugh. You are just too...perfect for me, and my crazy ass just can’t deal with all of this-”

I quickly walked over and kissed her on the lips. I heard her exhale, and she closed her eyes. My heart leapt out my chest.

“Shut up.” I grabbed her chin and kissed each of her lips. So soft.

Whoever this Negan guy was, f*cked her up bad, and I figured if I couldn’t help wanting her around me, I would have to help her through her pain. She opened her eyes after a few seconds, and I gave her my best smile. “I hate to break up your dramatic monologue, but I’m far from perfect. I’m really messed up, too.” I rubbed the sides of her arms, and she covered her face with her tank.

“I don’t want you to like, not want me cause I keep freaking out. I’m...I just…” she smiled, but looked like she might cry. Michonne shook her head fast, blowing out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry I’m like this,” she said to me, and I had never been more confused. I wanted to say something, but if me asking about birth control made her this way, then I didn’t know what else to say.

But you better f*cking say something.

"I wish whatever happened with whoever didn’t happen, but if it didn’t, I wouldn’t have you here with me.” I looked at her and she turned her head away, her face surprised.

“This is new to me, too. These feelings. The feelings I have for you, I can’t keep them inside. I don’t want to. I want you to talk to me. Tell me what’s bothering you, cause you’re right, I don’t know what’s happening up here.” I kissed her forehead. “But I want to know. I want to know more about you.”

She nodded after I said that. “Okay,” she whispered. “Later,” she said.

“Later. No rush either. It doesn’t have to be tonight. At some point, okay?” She looked away and I held her chin, making her look at me. “Okay?” I said once more. Her lips trembled, but I kissed her. I hated that her mind kept f*cking with her like this. That every little thing I said just triggered something painful for her. It killed me. But I wanted her. I just wanted her around me.

“Okay,” she softly said. “But you’ll get tired of this.” She walked away. She could think that all she wanted.

I didn’t think I would ever get tired of her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“We are doing a story for the July publication called Celebrating the Skin You’re In, and I showed my boss your photos and she is in love with you. She wants you on the cover, Michonne. I want you on the cover, Michonne. You are it. Just like I explained at Rick’s opening. I’m surprised Lori hasn’t scooped you up, yet.”

Michonne looked at me after Maggie’s ramble and last comment. I smiled and grabbed her hand. Maggie fronted the bill for our dinner, which happened to be a meeting for Michonne to start her modeling career. Apparently, wanting Michonne was a trend at the moment.

“The cover...of a Magazine?” Michonne questioned. Her eyebrows rose and she paused in eating her Salad.

“THE cover of Vogue, Michonne. I forgot to mention that it’s big-league stuff here. Not Teen Vogue. Michonne, you will be seen on newsstands around the world...on the internet...everywhere.” Maggie looked at everyone at the table, then Michonne. “This is a chance of a lifetime.”

I had to admit, I was proud... really proud. I looked at Michonne whose chest rose up and down in her pink blazer. She was shocked, but a smile crossed her face.

“Vogue? How? How could that be possible? I’m not a real model. You guys are giving me more credit than I deserve. It’s really Rick. He captured me. He was the one who made me beautiful. I was just...me.” She looked at me and a genuine smile crossed my face.

She flattered me. Michonne did more than flatter, and I appreciated her for it. It felt good knowing so many wanted her because of work I had done. None of them would ever get her, of course. They wouldn’t get her the way I got her.

“You are beautiful, Michonne, and this is a chance of a lifetime. You should do this.” I added to the conversation. She stared at me, a smile pulling at her lips, a twinkle in her eye. I squeezed her hand tighter.

“When would I have to give you an answer?” Michonne asked. Maggie took a sip of her white wine.

“I knew you would ask that, so a week. A week to give me your answer. My boss really wants you to do this. She is in love with your look. Michonne, you could be the next Naomi. The next Gia...the next Cindy...the next Tyra...Iman…Giselle. Really think hard about this. It’s no pressure of course,” Maggie finished and sat back in her chair.

“I will think about this, Maggie. I promise,” she said. I squeezed her hand then kissed it. Glenn and Maggie both smiled in unison.

Glenn kept smiling as he swallowed his food. “Now that my fiancé is done working, we can have a conversation about our lives. You two are looking really close. What’s going on here?” Glenn asked after taking a sip of his cognac. He had on his black framed glasses and a Yankee ball cap.

“We’re...more than friends,” I said grabbing her hand. Michonne smiled. “We’re dating.” Is my face red? I imagined it to be red and I felt like I had this silly grin on my face. Maggie and Glenn looked at one another then at me, then Michonne.

“Datinggggg?” Maggie took a sip of wine and nodded her head. “The Artist and his lovely Art... his muse,” Maggie bit a piece of her fish and her fork danced in the air as she chewed her food. Glenn spoke in her place.

“This is news. No wonder Rick’s been avoiding everyone. I had prime seats to the Yankee’s game, and you passed them up. I told Maggie you had to be into something serious cause you don’t pass up baseball.” Glenn smirked and picked up his cognac. “But I understand why you ditched me now.” He took a sip and I grinned.

“Yeah, I was into something serious that day.” I was in Michonne. I caught Glenn’s smirk as he picked up his fork.

“I got some more tickets. Right behind home plate. We all can go if you want,” he said looking across the table at us. Maggie finally spoke up again.

“Yesssss. Like a double date,” she said excitedly. Michonne looked at me and I grabbed her hand.

“Is that cool, Michonne?” I asked her. She looked at me like I did something foreign.

“Um...yeah. We can do that,” she smiled to herself and looked down at the table, then at me.

Did I ever say that her smile stopped my heart? That I forgot to breathe when she smiled at me.

I did.

Chapter 8: It's the Brooklyn Way

Chapter Text

It’s the Brooklyn Way

“Mi-chonneee.” I said dramatically, exaggerating her name, stretching my hands like it was on a marquee. We were walking down the block headed to the open mic. She giggled and looked away as I held her hand. “Bigger than all the other big names. Discovered by her boyfriend, photographer Rick Grimes.”

“You are so stupid. The only thing real about that is you are my boyfriend and a photographer.”

“If I don’t start taking photos again, imma be just your boyfriend,” I said jokingly, but it was the truth. I needed to start working again. "But...you are definitely a model.

Her legs looked incredibly long in those black pants she had on. They covered her tiny waist. She also had on a black bandage or bandeaux top, that was like a sports bra, but not one. I don't know. I couldn’t really describe it, and a pink blazer completed the look.

“You shouldn’t have worn that,” I said, and she snapped her head towards me with a big grin. We stopped walking and stood in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You said it looked good on me back in my apartment. You said I looked good at dinner,” she pouted turning to face me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and hung from there. We were about the same height with her wedges on.

“Oh, it looks really good. I’m trying to rip it off you right now,” I said grabbing her soft, luscious ass.

Let me be honest. I was never an ass man...a pretty face was always enough for me, but Michonne’s ass had to be treasured. It had to be grabbed and fondled every once in awhile.

She giggled and shook her head. “This is an indecent amount of PDA right now.” She bit my bottom lip. Michonne knew what that did to me. I laughed, and looked into her soft eyes.

“You’re right. Might get arrested for indecent exposure.” I moved my hand, cupping her ass slightly between her legs, touching her. Michonne grabbed my hand, but the sexiest look came over her.

“Not now. Later on...let’s do our own little arresting.” She winked at me and took my hand leading us back down the sidewalk. I moved close behind her, my dick super hard. Maybe we could find a bathroom...or, a closet really quick? "And I know what you’re thinking…” she said walking up to the building where the open mic was located.

“What’s that?” I asked opening the door for her. That I wanted to tear that ass up right now. But the noise from the crowd silenced us both as we looked around. We got there early tonight and it was already packed. There wasn’t an empty table in the place, and people stood against the back wall.

“Holy sh*t,” Michonne said looking around.

“Is it normally like this?” I yelled. She shook her head, speaking just as loud.

“Never. This is the most I’ve ever seen it like this.” Michonne stood on the tips of her toes to look over the crowd. I held onto her hand when she decided to move between everyone. I looked around at the diverse crowd, a mixture of young and old and all shades represented. It’s one of the reasons I loved New York. I loved how diverse it was here.

We saw Sasha and she pushed past a few people to reach us. "You made it.” Sasha hugged Michonne. “Girlllll...You look bangin’. Rick, ya girl is fine,” Sasha said looking at me. I felt my face get hot.

“Oh, I know,” I said looking between the two.

Michonne laughed and tried to speak above the music and chatter. “What’s going on, Sash. The place is hot tonight,” Michonne observed.

“Yep, they’re here to see all the good acts. Oh, and Daryl and Jesus are doing some little acoustic thing with just them two. So, that might be it, too.”

“Sasha, you didn’t say all these people would be here. These people don’t want to see me. They are here to see Daryl and Jesus. I feel all weird going up there now,” Michonne looked around nervously, biting her lip. I saw her leg start to shake and I pulled her closer to me.

“You got this, baby. Just look at me when you’re performing. I’ll be right over here,” I whispered in her ear. She looked at me and smiled.

“Okay,” she simply said. I wondered what went on up there. What made her so quiet. It just seemed like she was always thinking. Daryl and Jesus walked up to where we were.

“What’s up, guys?” Jesus gave Michonne a hug, then Sasha.

“Nothing much,” Michonne said. Jesus looked at her outfit and nodded his head.

“You look killer in that outfit. You definitely have to do this video. I want all of you girls in it and I have this little idea I want to try…”

“Video?...” Michonne looked confused.

“Yeah, Daryl told me he said something to Rick about it. Rick, you didn’t mention the video idea to her?” Everyone looked at me. And I looked at them.

Yeahhh, so I forgot to tell her. We just had a busy day, and she had a lot to get done...and the sex...we just were busy. It slipped my mind. “I failed to mention that Daryl mentioned that earlier.” I admitted. Michonne still looked lost.

“Yeah, Michonne. I’m shooting a video for our single, and I want you girls to be in it. See my idea was-” All of a sudden a few girls walked up to Jesus, fawning over him. If only they knew.

That slipped my mind, too. You see, Jesus is into guys. Just...throwing that out there. Michonne tapped my arm and shook her head.

“I don’t understand. A video? The magazine??” When she started to look around she blew out a big breath, her voice getting louder. “All of these people crowded in here right now...I need some air,” she said walking through the crowd. I wasn’t sure what was wrong, so I followed her outside. A few people walked by us as we made our way out the door. Michonne looked at me, her eyes wide.

“What’s up?” I asked grabbing one of her hands. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her locs.

“I was a nobody. No one noticed me, except for my ex, and now everyone wants me to do this and that. I mean, I teach kids how to paint and write. I teach them how to express themselves. I’m just a quiet girl, and I’m not used to everyone being crazy over me like this,” she blew out a little breath and put her forehead against my shoulder. I just liked this crazy, beautiful, stressed out girl.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And I’m not just saying that. There’s just something in just about all of you that I’m attracted to. I suppose the rest of New York is starting to see what I see.” I kissed the top of her head and she started to groan.

“It’s your fault. Who has musicians and magazine editors as friends?... Only, Rick-freaking-Grimes. I never expected a little photoshoot to have everyone like this. Everyone wants me… Like, Rick, they want me,” she said lifting her head up. Our eyes met and I knew why they wanted her.

Did it make sense that every surface of her was beautiful? From the way she spoke, to how she carried herself. Mature and inquisitive all in one. Still wanting to learn more. Still knowing that there was more to learn. “Well, I say...give ‘em a show,” I told her.

She grinned and shook her head. “I’m not like you.”

“I’m not like me,” I said back. She hit my arm and started to laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Serious, babe. You got the goods to get whatever you want. And you’re young. You try a music video...you shoot a cover for a magazine, and maybe a few other things. If it starts going south, you can leave this world. I learned that a long time ago.”

And I did. Sometimes I had to get away. In my mind I had to dissociate myself from New York, while still walking through these living streets. I had to get back to a place where I didn’t feel like the city wasn’t trying to eat me alive. But, I loved the place so much. New York’s been the place where I became a man. Where I learned about survival.

I looked at my phone and nodded towards the front door of the building. “You’re performing in twenty minutes right?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said grabbing my phone to look at the time. She handed it back to me and then blew out a breath. “Let me get backstage and get my thoughts together. I kind of want to change my whole poem now,” she said looking up at the sky. The day was stuck between brightness and dark, the color of blue deepening. I rubbed her shoulders.

“You can just think of something that quick?” I wondered. She nodded and grabbed my hand from her shoulder, walking me towards the front door.

“If I’m feeling a certain way...yeah...my mood is different now.” Michonne explained. I grinned.

I always felt a certain way around her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I stood by the bar drinking my beer. I told Michonne to look for me over here if the crowd overwhelmed her. On the stage was another poet. I guess I liked poetry, but don’t ask me to write it. Some things are so out of my realm and I miss it. Some poets are literal. Others aren’t. Michonne is never literal. Ever.

“The next girl that’s performing is pretty dope…” A guy said to me. He asked the bartender for a beer and turned towards the stage. “This cat right here is okay, but baby girl that’s coming on next. I saw her on a YouTube video. Girl spoke some truth,” he said holding his hand out. “I’m rude man...name’s Bob.”

“Rick,” I said shaking his hand. Bob got his beer and stood next to me. He was a black man, about my height or so, and he had on a brown plaid shirt with tan pants. He pointed to the stage.

“Believe me, man. Baby girl bout to blow your socks off,” he reiterated again. I smiled.

“You came to see, Michonne?” I asked. The guy nodded his head fast.

“Oh yeah, man. Word got out she would be here tonight. Shoot, mostly anyone you ask is here to see her. Those boys from Cherokee Rose is here, but I’m more excited about Michonne. I said to myself that I needed to see her in person before she blow up. Seeing her when she get famous will cost more money.” Just then we heard a bunch of applause and I looked at the stage. Sasha was standing up there clapping the last guest off.

“Truth beyond words brotha. That was magical. Give it up again for Noah, everyone,” I heard her say, but I drifted off.

Everyone was here to see Michonne?

I could believe it. Bob definitely believed it. I heard Sasha again after the clapping subsided. “Now... I had to beg the next guest to come back. I had to let her know that you guys we’re feeling her. She’s a bit shy, but my sistah got soul. I know y’all seen her on YouTube, which I got chewed out about, but I wanted the world to know how much soul she got. Show mad love for my best friend, Michonnnneeee.” Sasha said and Michonne walked out onto the stage. The crowd started to clap, and it was pretty loud. Michonne seemed bashful...surprised. I could read her thoughts right now. This was terrifying her.

But she looked into the crowd until she spotted me. I was anxious for her to see me, too. She smiled and cleared her throat, stepping up to the mic. A beacon of light covered her, a beautiful sight for me.

"Well...this is unexpected.” She chuckled nervously. “I definitely was not expecting this big of a crowd and I am really floored. I...um...I kind of thought of this poem just like twenty minutes ago, so bear with me. This one’s called. “It’s the Brooklyn Way.”

A look came over her. That look she had when I first slipped inside of her, and her head would drift back, and I’d see her neck. She clutched her chest as if in pain. Then, her eyes found mine seconds later, and she smiled.

Breaths.

Breaths so fast they had to escape me, caught in a place deep down in the pits of my desire.

I waited.

Oh, I waited for that desire to go away, but it got intense...deeper… faster…

It dripped.

It oozed out of me until my throat shook from the pressure. They left me in ripples, my screams of desire.

You see you guys, I was so lost I could only see the sky above and the city below me. Floating in between like a bird, and I wanted to fly, fly away, because I was almost in heaven.

And thoughts.

I couldn’t think. Didn’t want to because Lauryn posed this question…”when it hurts so bad, when it hurts so bad, why does it feels so good?’ to fall.

And it felt so good.

I was hurting inside...still am...but you feel so good.

Cause you give good love to me, baby.

And I knew.

Deep down I knew that if I opened up like a flower, his shower would rain over me.

I wanted to show him my love and spread it for him.

Cause it’s the Brooklyn way.

Michonne looked at me the entire time as she made the faces she made when I made love to her. Michonne was an enchanting songstress, I was mystified by her performance. That’s why I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She mesmerized me in the best way possible. Took me back to when I kissed her breasts and her stomach, when I touched between her legs. I needed her bad.

Don’t f*cking wait, Grimes, go get your girl right now. I had to adjust myself before I walked off, looking for the best way to get to her. Everyone clapped like they lost their minds. Bob hit my shoulder, knocking my lustful thoughts off of me.

“Told you. Baby girl just exploded your mind, right?” he asked. I didn’t want to seem rude, but I had to get to my girl. I put my fingertips to my head and pretended like an explosion went off. Bob nodded his head proud, pounding his chest because thoughts about her came to be true.

“You’re right. I’m amazed by her…” I told him. And I want her so bad. “My girlfriend is something special,” I said with a smile. The guy thought I was joking. Like he didn’t believe she was my girlfriend.

“Yeah. It felt like she was talking to you, right? That’s how I felt,” he added before someone walked up to him. That’s when I made my getaway to her.

I wasn’t that great with poetry, but the way she said the words, how she sought me out in the crowd. It felt like we were the only two in there. Like if we were in my studio apartment, and her voice would get softer as she spoke, whispering in my ear. God, I just had to have her.

“Are you Rick Grimes?” A loud feminine voice asked me. I got stopped in my tracks and looked down. A red-haired woman smiled up at me.

“Yes,” I said loudly. There was still a lot of chatter and people discussing my girlfriend...my girlfriend.

“My best friend comes with that fire each time. Michonne...Damn girl…” I heard Sasha say in the background. I looked at the stage where Michonne had the biggest smile. The girl in front of me tapped my shoulder.

“I’m Alexis. It’s such a small world...I’ve seen your exhibit with the girl on stage. It was so beautiful. I thought you should know that,” she nearly yelled. They played some music for intermission before Daryl and Jesus hit the stage. I looked around for Michonne while the young woman talked to me, but she was lost in the crowd now.

“Could we exchange numbers...or if you have a business card. That would be great. I saw on your website that you do portraits. I was looking to get-”

I interrupted her before she kept going. I did not want to lose Michonne to everyone else in the crowd. I hated to be rude to her, but… “I have somewhere to be...I’m sorry.” I pulled my wallet out and handed her a card. “That’s my number...just leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay,” she said giving me her hand. I shook it and moved passed her. The place was no bigger than a shoebox, but I lost Michonne. Maybe she was backstage?

I surfed through the crowd, looking in all directions, hoping I didn’t overlook her. That lustful feeling started to fade away as my search intensified. I saw Sasha and Daryl by the steps leading to the stage.

“Hey...where’s Michonne?” I asked.

Sasha didn’t look so happy as she spoke to Daryl who shrugged his shoulders. She turned to me. “Look...I told her not to leave with him, but John can be pretty-”

John?...John Negan? Th guy her and her mom spoke of.

“You talking about her ex-boyfriend?” I said scratching the back of my head. That’s the only John I could think of in the moment.

“Yeah.” She said looking down. I noticed her expression was one of anger. Through and through. It made me angry, too.

“Where’d they go?” I asked, feeling that anger. Daryl hit my chest with the back of his hand.

“Come on, man. Calm down. Sasha says Michonne didn’t want to cause a scene so they went to talk back there…” Daryl was talking but I tuned his ass out. I looked towards the exit and nodded my head.

“That way?” I asked Sasha, who was already nodding her head.

“Yep, through those doors, and don’t even say nothing cause you know what he did to my girl,” Sasha said looking at Daryl. Daryl looked down and now I wondered what Daryl knew that I didn’t. He knew more about my girl than I did. But the longer I stood there with them, the longer Michonne and John were out there...by themselves.

I pushed through the crowd, anger on my brow, but having to apologize to all the people I had to squeeze through. It was a little hallway that led to the bathrooms. I didn’t go through the doors, just hung back. Someone walked by me and that’s when I stepped in the hallway, hidden out of sight. Like a sniper.

“...You just show up tonight like this, throwing me off guard. What the hell are you even doing here, John?”

“I had to come see this girl everyone was talking about. My baby is a big thing now…modeling...reading poetry like that…damnnn…I missed you, baby,” he said. His voice was even douchey.

Michonne laughed at him like he was an idiot. That’s my girl. “Baby? Maybe you should go home to the woman that’s really having your baby.” I heard her shoes clack on the floor, and I was about to head back out, so she didn't see me, but she stopped walking.

“You know what’s even worse. You made me feel like sh*t when I forgot to take one birth control pill. You called me all kinds of things. Things I won’t even repeat. But you got this girl pregnant…. And I’m your baby? You’re just as screwed up as that dumbass smile on your face.

“Now wait a minute, Michonne. You know damned well that’s not the reason why I acted like that. You know I wanted you to finish school. To go and do great things. You can’t do that with a baby-”

“You’re right. I’m glad that I never got knocked up by you. It would have been the biggest mistake of my life...next to letting you anywhere near me.”

“Now wait a goddamn minute, Michonne. You -” His voice was rougher. I felt my ears getting hotter.

“Let go of my arm,” she told him. That was my cue to step in there.

“Hey.” I casually walked from around the corner, and it shocked them both, making them jump.

“You okay, Michonne?” I asked, walking closer to her. The douche gave a douchey smile and let go of Michonne, holding his hand out.

“Forgive me. I seem to have lost myself right there. I’m John. You are?”

“Getting Michonne away from you,” I said between my teeth. The douche shook his head and furrowed his brows.

“You done got so big that you need a bodyguard." He enunciated the word in a douchey way.John looked me up and down and sucked at his teeth, leaning back. He looked like a f*cking idiot with that stupid ass lean. “Seems a bit scrawny to protect you, but we all start somewhere,” he said. I started to walk away with my arm around Michonne.

“You still got it, baby. That ass...Um...Um...Um...” he said, and I wanted to say it was a light that I saw. A red heated light that felt like fire. My skin felt like actual fire, the tips of my ears especially. I felt my fist balling up and Michonne stopped us in our tracks, kissing the side of my lips. It was like I snapped out of a nightmare, and into a better dream.

“Come on, baby. Let’s find Daryl and Sasha,” she looked into my eyes, and I wanted her all over again. Her eyes were soft looking. I kissed her again, lost in a world created just for us. That’s when I heard the douche’s mouth again.

“This artsy looking f*cker? Michonne...baby...I know you want to get back at me, but...this guy? This guy?” he questioned.

“If I felt like I owed you an explanation for any of my decisions I would give you one,” she simply said holding onto me. I heard the douche still going on about me and how I was a scrawny this and an ugly that. But if that guy said anything... did anything to Michonne.

He’d be the ugly one.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Your place or mine?” I asked her as we sat on the subway. I had my arm draped around her shoulder and she rested her head against me. The train was pretty empty tonight, which was nice. Today was a good day...minus the douche.

“You have food at your place,” I reminded her. She hit my thigh.

She laughed. “Don’t use my place because you never go grocery shopping.”

“Yeahhhh. We can go to my place. All I need is juice, pancakes, and Michonne. I can eat you all night,” I told her. She squeezed my thigh.

“All you think about is sex.” She laughed squeezing me harder. She enjoyed teasing me, I noticed.

“Nope.” Yes, you do. “I think about you mostly. Sometimes it involves us having sex. Sometimes it involves me just looking at you. Seeing how pretty you are. Or I imagine your voice and how soft it sounds when you speak…I mostly think of you,” I admitted. She looked up at me, her hand now on my chest.

She smacked her lips, as she rubbed her hand there on my chest. “And you’re not perfect.”

“I’m not,” I said repeating my sentiments from earlier. She smiled and her head moved slightly before I caught her chin.

How was she so pretty? With makeup...without makeup. Laughing and telling jokes, or dancing on my bed in the morning to get me up. I smiled at her, because I didn’t know what else to do.

“You’re staring,” she said. May I point out that she was doing the same thing.

“I can’t help but stare at perfection.” She playfully rolled her eyes, her cheeks squeezing them shut from smiling so hard.

“And you say the best sh*t. I’ll never win. I’m smitten over you,” she whispered to me.

“The feeling...” I said stroking her cheek. She just had the softest skin. “...is very mutual,” I was only loud enough for her to hear. There was a haze...a smoggy, fuzzy feeling that overcame me. That’s the best way to describe it.

I kissed her. Just a quick peck and we both smiled at the same time. Hers was full of wonder...happiness. Same as mine, I suppose. “I really liked your poem,” I told her. She smiled even wider.

“Really?” She ran her hand through my hair. Her hands always felt so good.

“Yeah. I gotta admit it...you’re just perfect at everything. Look at you... who smiles like that,” I said mimicking her from earlier.

“You...are a jerk,” she giggled trying to get away. I held her tight, and she looked up at me again.

“I’m your jerk,” I told her.

She smiled softly, her eyes twinkling. The train stopped and a few people got off. It seemed like the further we went along the tracks, the further I fell for her. I took one of her locs, twisting it around my finger.

“You’re mine…” she summed.

“I’m yours,” I told her, rubbing her bottom lip. A dreamy look covered her. No matter how many people were around, Michonne garnered my attention. Only her. I bent down and kissed her, quick and simple, but she placed her hand on my face. We spoke with no words. Just our eyes dancing over one another.

And yeah, I wanted her to open up to me, but I still waited. sh*t, there are things I don’t talk about all the time, so I’d wait on her. I liked her that much. So much.

When she kissed me again, it felt like we left that train. The world was there. I knew it was, but her kiss made it all disappear. This girl was mine, and I wanted it no other way. I wanted her soft lips kissing me like this every day. I wanted her hands touching my hair, and her eyes staring into mine.

I felt her tongue slip against mine. I heard her tiny moan when my own tongue touched hers. I wanted to be frantic, and pretend like we had no time, but there was time. There was time to enjoy tasting her lips and biting them. Licking them. We briefly smiled at one another when she felt how hard I was getting. She knew I couldn’t help it.

I could never help it with her.

Chapter 9: The Escape

Chapter Text

The Escape

“What time is it?” My eyes tried to adjust to the brightness of the room. Somehow, my body knew it was still nighttime. Outside the window, the moon appeared clear as the sun would in the day. Michonne recently got out of school, so now she stayed up all night, painting. She had been working on the background for this series for a while.

“3:30 in the morning,” Michonne sat on a stool across from the easel. She brought some canvas from her apartment over, along with some of her tools for painting. I told her I had acrylic paint, but she said she wanted to use her watercolors.

“And you’re up painting?” The swell of her backside peeking through her clothing diverted my attention. She had on a plain white t shirt and her overalls that she painted in. Both pieces of clothing stained with various shades from the rainbow.

“You're always up in the middle of the night doing your thing. Let me do mine,” she said looking back at her work. The colors were vivid and muted at the same time. I couldn’t tell where she was going with it, but I’m sure it was going to be great.

“Come back to bed,” I patted her spot. “I need your warmth beside me. I can’t sleep.” Oddly enough it was true. I couldn’t fall asleep without her now. When we slept at our own apartments, I had to Facetime her, or have a long text conversation. I usually woke up with my phone still in my hand.

I felt like I was in high school again, and I wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing. I hated high school. She looked back at me.

“You’ll get my warmth in a little bit. I have something in my head right now, and if I don’t get it onto this canvas, it’ll be lost forever.” Standing, she began to paint again. Soft strokes of her brush crossed the canvas.

“Is that how you get inspired? It just pops in your mind?” I wondered. Since I was awake now, I decided to sit up and stretch my arms. She chooses to mix the dark purple paint she was using with white to make it lighter, starting her strokes again when the color was to her satisfaction.

“Yep. It’s random, too. I’ll be thinking about if the milk in the fridge needs to be thrown out, then bam...I want to paint. Or I’ll hear a siren out my window, and boom, I’m ready to write. It’s very spontaneous. Organic. That’s why the painting for school was so hard. I was constricted to this time limit. It was frustratingly good though, and I got through it. What about you, Mr. Photographer? What’s your process? She brushed harsher strokes of purple on the canvas. I ran my hands through my hair.

“I run the image in my mind a million times. Sort of like a movie. I try and figure out if it’ll work or not, but nothing is set in stone. Like when I did the shoot for you. I had the idea of doing it in all black and white, but when I went to edit, I felt your story needed to lose its color.” Michonne looked at me when I said that. It made her relax her arms and lose her focus.

“Why did you feel you needed to make me ‘lose my color’?” Michonne asked resuming her painting, although I could see her waiting for my response.

“You appeared to be happy, but your eyes looked sad. Like you were trying to hide what was going on behind them. I saw that and I saw your pain. I don’t know, I spot pain easily. It’s something I’m good at I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders, and she glanced my way again.

“You could see all that from looking at me?” she said putting her brush down. There was a rag sitting on the glass table near her and she wiped her hands with it. I smirked.

“I come from a family whose job requires them to read people. It’s the thing that makes me stand out, I guess. I sit back and observe. Wait for my chance to speak. The entire while, I done figured out the crowd. I think I know more about other people and what’s happening with them, than I do with myself,” I admitted. Michonne sat down on the wooden stool.

“So, what else did you notice Mr. know it all." She threw the rag at me, and I caught it. I told her the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re pretty.” Our eyes did that thing where we stare at each other for moments on end after I said that. Her smile was soft and disbelieving. “You are. Your whole attitude is sexy. The way you think. The way you speak. How you just move through life.” My words left me carefully because I wanted her to hear them, and know I meant it.

Usually, I darted my eyes away from her when she looked at me like that. Like I rescued her from something terrible. But this time, I couldn’t look away.

“You hungry?” I asked standing up. My red briefs clung to me, and I pulled at them some, looking around for my shorts.

“Famished.” She stood and walked towards the kitchen. “What you got in this joint?” Michonne asked in a thick Brooklyn accent. I laughed.

“I’m not sure.” I followed her into the kitchen. She opened my refrigerator and looked inside. The look on her face was less than impressed.

“Do you ever not eat out?” she asked as I stood beside her. We both looked inside my empty fridge. Only eggs, milk, and yogurt sat on the bare shelf, and I wasn't sure if any of it was edible. I’m pretty sure most of it had been in there for weeks. Maybe longer. She opened up the freezer and there wasn't much in there either. I searched my cabinets and perked up, reaching for something I could fix.

“Pancakes?” I held up the unopened box of mix. Michonne grinned, doing a little dance in place. She was too cute to me.

“Pancakes it is. You want me to hook em up, or-?” She pretended to punch my sides.

“I got this, girl." I turned towards her and lifted her up, carrying her back to her easel. “You go paint, and I’m gonna fix us some food.” She turned around and kissed my lips.

“Cool.” She yawned, stretching her arms as high as she could.

“Don’t fall asleep now, and you got me up.” I warned. She shook the sleep that was trying to creep up out of her.

“I’m not sleepy, just had to yawn...Shut up and go fix my pancakes.” Her slender finger pointed to the kitchen. I held my hands up in defense.

“I’m heading that way now...my muse.” She couldn’t help but smile.

“You always gonna call me that,” she asked as I walked away.

“You’re always gonna be that to me, so yeah. I guess I am.” I grabbed a bowl when I made it back to the kitchen, pouring enough mix into it for the two of us. Michonne may be small, but she ate as much as me, and didn’t act like a shy little bird in front of me. One more thing that made her awesome as f*ck.

I turned my head and looked over in her direction. She yawned again and stretched, twisting her core side to side. She picked up her paint brush and dipped it into a shade of pink, light strokes feathered the canvas.

She would lean back and look at her work for a long time before she made her next stroke. It was like watching a samurai with a sword. Every swipe of her arm created something that had me in awe.

I found myself being in awe of Michonne a lot.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Did I mention I don’t have a kitchen table? Well, I don’t have one. If I ever make myself some food in the apartment, I usually lean against the counter and gulf it down. Or I’ll eat at my desk while I go through my emails. My apartment was very small, and space was very limited for my photography stuff, my bed, and my desk, or the hub of my existence, which had a bunch of random sh*t on it.

“You got an old sheet or blanket? We can have an inside picnic.” Michonne suggested.

“Yeah,” I said walking past her to my closet. My mother loaded me up on lots on sheets and blankets one year at school. She heard about the winter storms they had up here and said she didn’t want me to freeze to death. Months later there was a blizzard, and the heat went out in my building. These blankets saved me. It was the one time that my mom’s antics saved my life. I put the blanket on the floor and grabbed our pancakes. Michonne sat down and twisted in place.

“My boo thang made me some pancakes,” she danced excitedly. I laughed and handed her the plate. When we settled in our spots Michonne started to bounce up and down.

“Let’s speed date. You know. Ask each other a bunch of questions," she said as if the idea was the best she had ever came up with.

I grinned, cutting my pancakes up.“Why?” I asked. We both reached for the butter, and I handed it to her. “And aren’t you supposed to date other people at the same time.” She blew out a breath.

“Because we’ve never really been out on a date-date and we never asked those dumb, rapid-fire questions you should know about someone,” she answered in one breath. I put a piece of pancake in my mouth amazed at how good it tasted.

“I’ll start. What’s your favorite food?” she said cutting into her own pancakes.

“Steak. What yours?” I chewed my pancake and followed it with some water. Water happened to be the only thing well stocked in this place...And coffee. Coffee would be good right now.

“Sushi,” she fired back.

I laughed, scrunching my face. "I could never wrap my head around the idea of Sushi.”

Michonne’s mouth popped open. “Have you ever had it?

“Nope”

“Wellllll. Don’t knock it until you try it. Ask me a question?” she encouraged.

I thought of something random.“ What’s your favorite color?”

“Black,” she answered.

I scrunched up my face again. She looked great in colors. “Why?”

“Because it looks good with everything…duh.” She has a point.

“Point taken. I told her.

“And Imma need you to fix what keeps happening with your face.” Her finger danced in a circle pointing to my lips. Laughing, I acted like didn’t know what she was talking about.

“What am I doing?” Michonne scrunched her face up several times in a lame attempt to look like me. “I’m not doing that.”

She nearly caused me to choke on my pancakes I was laughing so hard. Her lips pursed together and looked at me sideways. "Yes,you are. Dead ass after every response.” Laughter erupted from her, so I guess she wasn’t really offended. She playfully punched me on the arm.

I laughed. “Imma fix it.” I promised her.

“Good. Do that.” She ate a few bites of her pancake, dipping it into more syrup. “These pancakes not that bad.”

“Thanks. You can’t really mess up a pancake,” I told her. She didn’t agree.

“My mom had to work at the theater one early morning, and my dad cooked some for me. Burnt one side, and the other side wasn’t even done. I had to hurt his feelings, cause I wasn’t eating that.”

“I guess you can mess up pancakes.” We both laughed, then she trailed off.

“You can mess up anything if you don’t know what you’re doing.” When she said it, it was like she was reliving something bad. Michonne did that sometimes. Zone out. She told me that I do it too, but I’m really just in my head. She always looks like she’s reliving some hell.

“Earth to Michonne,” I waved my hand in front of her face. She snapped herself out of wherever she was and looked at me. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?” she randomly said. We both pretended she just wasn’t in LaLa land.

“15.” I lied. Saying 18 seemed lame to me. “How old were you?”

“17.” I looked at her like she was lying. “Whatttt? Why you looking like that?” she said with a cute little smile, while I rubbed her thigh.

“17?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. She nodded her head. “And you learned all that...all of um, what you know...in like three years?” I asked her. She had the biggest smile on her face.

“It’s true. I was going to start college and I wanted to be in control of my sexuality, so I had to get over the first hump, so to speak.”She winked.

“I bet.” I responded jokingly. But inside, a guy kind of gets jealous. I wasn’t the first one to make her scream in delight from my touch. Blame it on my ego.

She giggled. “Let’s just say I dated a guy older than you, and he taught me a lot of stuff,” she raised her eyebrows repeatedly to tease me.

“You know, I can teach you some stuff…and thangs.” The soft smile of her eyes made my heart jump several times.

“Have I ever told you how much I like your accent?” she mentioned again.

I though back to our first-time meeting. “If I recall, you said it sounded like I was singing to you. Or something like that.” Michonne and her similes and metaphors. I loved them.

“Yep. Like molasses or honey. How you say my name. It’s thick and sweet at the same time. You put something extra on it, and I like it.” She stood and took both of our plates to the kitchen sink. The water ran over her hands, allowing her to feel for the right temperature. It was something about her. All the little things. Like her description of my voice turned me on so much and I didn’t know why. Michonne could f*ck my mind, and in a good way.

“Ain’t never heard anyone describe the way I sound quite like that before. The way you think amazes me. How your mind automatically makes the most mundane things so bright. That poem you wrote about me-”

“Oh god, Rick, shut your beautiful mouth up,” she said washing the dishes from our impromptu breakfast. “I’m so embarrassed by that.”

“Just saying. It was deep. Made me think, and when I realized everything, you meant, I was so amazed.” I remembered back to last week when I overheard the conversation she and her mother had. I didn’t say much about the Negan situation, but now I guess I understood how Michonne felt about Lori.

“Who’s John Negan? Was that John at the Open Mic.” Michonne stopped rinsing the dishes. Doubt crept over my mind, and I shouldn’t have asked, but I wanted to know. My question seemed to throw her through a loop. She went back to washing even though back the life seemed to drain from her skin.

“The biggest mistake of my life,” she said with a dead laugh. Life seemed to drain from her eyes too when she looked back at me. “How do you know about John...like, his name?”

“Overheard you and your mom talking about him. I figured since we’re being honest...and we were asking questions?” I began to regret asking, because it looked like my words punched her in the gut. I’m the master of f*cking up sh*t. I stood and picked the blanket up, popping it a couple of times to get the crumbs off.

“You mean you were snooping?” Her eyes narrowed, and a grey cloud seemed to cloak her. I wouldn’t say she was furious, but...

“No, y’all we’re talking loud enough for me to hear. If I’m being honest, you don’t talk much about your past.”

She whipped her head back. “You don’t talk about yours either. We haven't even known each other that long.”

Oh, sh*t this is going left. Save this sh*t, Grimes.

“So, let’s play a new game. How about we open up to each other and talk about ourselves…Without getting angry?” I added. A few steps separated us now and I closed the gap. She still had her hands in the dish water, and I wrapped my arms around her. I breathed her in, enjoying her scent mixed with the paint she had on several spots.

“Can we do that?” I mumbled into her neck. She fell back against me, her locs swiping the side of my face.

I grabbed a towel and turned her around. Water fell from the tips of her fingers as I dried her hands off. My eyes searched hers for an answer, and she pursed her lips together. “Yeah. Yeah. I hear you.” Her voice was softer, tinged with some sadness. Time seemed to drag before either of us spoke. “John...John is a dick. That’s that best way to describe him.”

“So, this dick is named John and you two dated?” Michonne tried not to smile.

“Yes...and no… but mostly yes.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

It made no sense at all. Don't be dumb, it's like what you and Lori were doing.

“Well. John never really gave us a title. We just were this thing. He called me his wifey, though I never felt like one. And me being a stupid young girl, I just let him f*ck my head up.” Her eyes started to tear a little, threatening to leave the edges of her lower lid, and she looked up at me.

I should have punched the jerk. I wanted to kill him. It was the first thought that ran in my head. Whatever he did to hurt her, I wanted to kill him for it. I was protective over Michonne. Don’t encourage me to tell you why, because the truth of it was, I didn’t know why. The pain that she feels now infuriates me, because I can’t do anything for her.

“He cheated on you?” She nodded her head, and the tears fell. Gentle waterfalls of pain. Like, I wanted to search all over New York and find this asshole right now.

“With this woman a couple of units down from me. He was waiting on me one morning and bumped into her. Apparently, they had been doing this for nearly seven months ago. She confronted me one day. Told me she couldn’t do this anymore.” I stood there as Michonne told her story, her eyes seeming to turn darker after every word.

“She showed me a text conversation between them. It was John’s number. I checked that first. There were pictures. 'I love yous'. They went on real dates. She told him she was pregnant. That she couldn’t be sleeping with him if he didn’t leave me.” Her voice started to break, and her lips trembled. God, I was getting pissed seeing her like this.

“He told her he would leave me. That he had to be a stand-up guy ...and take care of his child. That he loved her... and ...and... he would do anything for her. That I didn’t mean any-” A small choke held her words up. Every f*cking pause she took to get this out made want to cry too. She loved this guy, and he broke her fragile, beautiful, artistic heart.

She’s right, he’s a major dick.

“She’s like this cookie cutter girl...no edge to her. Nothing special.” I could feel the anger emanating from her as she spoke. I could never get her to open up. Never. And the moment she chose to she was crying. My heart bled for her. I didn’t expect to feel this inside of me. " But did that matter. it never matters to men. He was sleeping with both of us...She knew about me. I’ve seen her before, and she would always give me this funny smile in the hallway. I just thought she was weird...but,” Michonne was angry now. Her body was shaking, and she felt warmer.

I rubbed her shoulders, still looking down at her. “He said he would leave me and raise the baby with her. He said I meant nothing.” By this time, she was boohoo crying and I wanted to go buy a Colt .45. I also wanted to be here for her. She definitely wasn’t over this f*cker John. You just don’t get over someone who was a constant, something you relied on for a year to love you.

It explained why she was so meek around me. Why her eyes always questioned what I did. She didn’t trust me. Not at all.

“And my heart just fell out my f*cking chest. I walked down to my apartment, and John was already on the stoop waiting for me. Said he wanted to tell me something. I didn’t even go to my apartment. I kept walking down the block, half expecting something else f*cked up to happen. I felt sick walking to a destination I didn’t know. I walked and walked, almost floating out into the street. I nearly got hit by a car.”

She rubbed tears from her face. “I felt him pull my arm and when he did, I started to scream. Some guy came out of nowhere thinking he was assaulting me, and punched John in his nose. I turned around, I guess still in shock, and left him there bleeding on the ground.” Michonne looked away and blew out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this…” She shook herself and put her hands to her sides. “but f*ck it. I went to my mom and pops for a week and slept in my own room. I lost ten pounds. Found out they moved from Sasha. John tried to call me, but I blocked him, and eventually I cut his face out of all of our pictures at the apartment. Deleted him from all my social media accounts. A couple of the teachers at the school were concerned for me, calling to see about me. It was just a bad f*cking week. I woke up one day and was like, f*ck this, and went back to school. That’s when I saw your flyer…” she looked over at me.

“That’s when I met you.” Her eyes looked for mine. My eyes found hers.

“That’s when we met,” I repeated. A smile tugged at my lips. Tears from a terrible memory flowed down her cheeks and I wiped them away. When I touched her she breathed so hard, like a balloon releasing all its air.

“I’m sorry I’m doing this. I told you. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. You weren't a rebound, or anything. It might seem like that, but...I don’t even know why I made such a big deal about Lori. You can do whatever you want-”

“I don’t want to do whatever I want. I like doing this. What we’re doing,” I pointed between the two of us. “Lori was all I knew of New York. I don’t want to talk bad about her cause she wasn’t a bad woman at all when it came to us. She was unavailable, and at first it was cool. But it got old.”

Chasing after Lori was what I was known for in college. Then we got lost in this big city, going our separate ways. When we reconnected, I thought she would want more, but work was important to her. I came second to all of the art and artist that came her way. It made me feel insignificant.

Michonne turned towards me. “I’m just in a f*cked-up place mentally and I don’t want you to think I am tripping for stupid reasons. But John wasn’t really the faithful type, and we had a lot of bumps in the road before this whole thing started-”

“You know what you need to do. You need to visit the escape.” Her eyes darted in my direction. It was the only thing I could think of that helped me think and let go. Figured it could help Michonne.

“The escape. What’s that?” I reached for her hand. I started to walk us to the window where she took her photos a month ago. I slid the window up, climbing to the outside.

“The fire escapes. I come out here to breathe. To feel like I’m on top of things, when I feel like I have no control over my life.” Her face went serious as she looked through the window. I helped her climb outside.

“Thank you," she said. I smiled and nodded. "What’s wrong in your life?” She asked, her voice was gentle, tender, and it made me dizzy for a second. I was compelled to tell her about things. Things I never told a soul. She climbed out onto the tiny black staircase, and we looked down at the streets. Two men were arguing about a fight they had seen a few weeks ago. This argument between the two has happened several times, with different scenarios since I lived here. All in the wee hours of the morning.

“I’m afraid of disappointing people,” My blunt admission shocked me. I felt her stare on me when she spoke.

“What people?”

“Everyone. My friends. My clients. My family....my dad mostly. The way he looks at me. It always a look of disappointment, because I chose to live my own life. My mom hates that I don’t visit. My sister called me out on my bullsh*t last week.”

“You’re avoiding going home because you don’t want to see your dad?”

“No, the crazy thing is that I want to see him. I miss my family a lot. I love New York. It’s been the place where I grew into a man. Where I grew to see failure kick me in the balls several times.”

“You got Dorothy Syndrome, huh?” she said.

I raised a brow. “Dorothy Syndrome?”

“Yeah. Like from the Wizard of Oz. Dorothy wanted to leave. She left. Realized she wanted to go back home. That it wasn’t that bad there after all. And she had to fight to get back. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” Her heels clicked together as the phrase left her mouth. I kind of agreed with her.

“Sort of. I want to go home. Maybe go back and live there. Who knows, but I can’t go back and see my dad, and he still sees disappointment. He’s never been cruel, but he’s voiced his opinions about my life.” We both fell silent, the warm spring breeze blowing past us, cooling my arms until the hairs stood. My mind could only think about the day I left home.

“You too good for this town, huh? Too good to be around folk like us. Like you mom, and sister?”

“I’m going to New York because it’s a place where I can be successful as an artist. People in King County aren’t looking to get their pictures taken for editorial magazines. They’re not trying to pose naked for me to paint them. I can’t stay here. There is no growth for my craft here.”

“If you gave up that photography crap and went to the academy, you could be right here with your family. It’s what you should be doing with your life. You can’t make a difference in anybody’s life taking their picture, boy. Ain’t no decent life for no man who’ll have a family, in taking pictures. The quicker you realize that the less disappointed you’ll be.”

“Dad, there is more to life than being a cop. There is more out there than just four walls and a roof with security. I can do something, somewhere else and still be in this family. I’m not trying to leave you guys. It’s the last thing I want. But my passion is art, and it can’t flourish in this town.”

Then he looked at me, the corner of his mouth slightly rising as he patted my shoulder. “Your passion ain’t gonna take you anywhere but for a world of pain. And when you don’t succeed, you’ll be back here, doing what I told you to do.” He walked to my bedroom door.

“I ain’t never been disappointed in you son, not even with what you chose to do as a hobby. But for you leaving the family, and doing what you gonna do, I am. When you can’t pay your bills with them photos, don’t come calling your mama or me for money."

“It was one of the last times we really talked. Now we just say hello. Tell each other how things are going.”

Michonne touched my arm, bringing me back to the noisy world of honking cars and yelling men. “I wasn’t there, but it seems that your dad was more hurt that you wanted to go away.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Shrugging my shoulders, I turned and looked into my apartment.

Michonne started to walk to the window and climb inside. "I'm known to do this, but sometimes, we all can think about something too much." Honestly., I could only agree with her. “Got any clean towels?” She added.

“Yeah. I’ll get you one and a washcloth.” I started to head inside, but she stopped me before I could.

“Don’t worry about it, just tell me where they are, and I’ll get it.

“Closet right by the bathroom.” She almost made it through the window before I called her name. "Michonne."

“Yeah, Rick?”

“You feel any better?” I wanted to know. I felt better with her.

“Yeah.” She briefly nodded her head and made her way into the apartment. “Rick?’

“Yeah, Michonne?”

“I like your escape. A good place to clear one's thoughts.” She grinned and stood walking away from the window. I looked down at the two guys arguing on the street. Only in New York would two people argue at nearly 5 in in the morning. Although, if I didn’t hear them argue, I wouldn’t be able to get to sleep.

Go figure.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Your shower really gets hot as hell,” Michonne walked out of the bathroom with a large terrycloth robe on.

“Where did you get this robe from? It’s like the ones they have in the fancy hotels.” She plopped down beside me on the bed and hit my leg. “Are you listening to me?”

“Hmmm...yeah. I’m just lost in my thoughts.”

“You think a lot, huh?”

“All the time. I think about you a lot.” My hand found her foot and I tickled the bottom of it. She squealed and quickly moved them away.

“Don’t touch my feet. They are extremely ticklish.” She hid them underneath the oversized white robe of mine. I gave her a quizzical look.

“Ticklish you say. No kidding. Just your feet are ticklish?” Michonne rolled her eyes and started to giggle.

“Rick. Don’t. I’ll scream if you try and tickle me. I’ll wake your neighbors.” She pleaded. I moved closer to her.

“I’m not going to do anything. I promise. Plus, my neighbors wake me up all the time.” I crawled towards her, and she scooted backwards as I moved within reach of her.

“Rick...Rick. I’m going to kick you if you try anything stupid. I’m warning you. I’m extremely ticklish and it feels funny when people do it to me.” A fake shocked expression covered my face. Michonne giggled some more.

“I’m not going to do anything...Just let me…” I tried to grab her but damn it she was quick. She hopped up off of my bed and started to run around my tiny apartment.

“I’m serious. You won’t tickle me with them paws.” She started to run around the couch, her locs were still a little wet so they dripped on the hardwood floor.

“Michonne. Come here. I promise, you’ll only suffer for a little bit, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Noooooooo,” she screamed as I chased her around my tiny apartment. She was a fast, stealthy little thing. She hurdled over my black leather couch and ran into the kitchen. I almost caught her, but she did a little juke on me and ran to the other side.

“You play football in another lifetime?” I barely got out. Small heavy breaths left me. I needed to get back into shape.

“Sasha’s older brother, Tyreese, he played in high school and taught us some stuff and thangs.” She danced in place like a little kid and mocked me. “Nahnah na booboo, you can’t catch me,” I laughed loudly.

“Ohhhhh, when I catch you, you gonna get it.” My voice was more like my natural southern accent just then. Living in Brooklyn for so long caused me to lose some of my inflections.

“Well, c’mon country boi. Lemme see what ya gonna do,” She nearly sounded like me and I thought it was adorable. It was all a trick, though, as she started to run some more and jumped over my couch. My bed wasn’t too far from the couch, and she hopped on top of it.

I quickly ran over to her, and she moved to the middle of the bed. “Seems like I got you cornered. Now you can try and run again, but you won’t get far...you freakin gazelle.” More labored breaths left me.

“Is ya tired their boi?” Her voice still tried at my southern accent while she jumped up and down on the bed. I chuckled, still out of breath. I put my hands on my hips for a little rest. Little did she know.

“I’m good. Just gathering my strength for-” and I hopped on the bed and tackled her gently to the mattress. She was laughing as she tried to get away. I held onto her tight.

“What was that you were saying?” I tickled her sides and grabbed her feet tickling them, too. She started to scream with tortured delight, hitting my back and trying to get from under me.

“Rickkkk. Oh my god...nooo. Stoppp,” was all she could get out. Over and over, she repeated those words. Both of our breaths grew heavier, and she still tried to wiggle out of my arms.

“I hatttteeeee youuu.” she screamed and then she started to scratch at my back.

“Say, I’m a sexy motherf*cker.” Her yells got lower, as her laughs mixed with them.

“No.” She managed to get out. I stopped my playful tickling assault and looked at her. She was so beautiful.

“Say, Rick Grimes is a sexy motherf*cker.” She stared at me, her eyes dancing around as she grinned.

“Noooo. You shouldn’t have tickled me. You not sexy. You not cute. You not-” My opened the rove she wore, pulling at the long tie that held it closed and moved the robe to her sides to display all of her. And there she was...exposed. Naked and beautiful. I slid between her legs, parting her folds to her silky bud. Her mouth stayed open, but no words left them anymore. Just a long heavy breath. My fingers explored her, and Michonne’s eyes started to flutter.

“What was that you were saying?” My fingers slipped inside her puss*, curving until I found this little spot. She moaned again shifting her hips.

“Jesus, I’m...I, ” she groaned as I caressed her softest spot. Her eyes continued to flutter until her head fell back. The length of her creamy neck exposed for me.

“We bringing Jesus into this now. He’s in Manhattan at the moment with Daryl and Sasha, sooooo,” She hit my arm.

“Shut uppp,” she barely managed to get out. .

I dreamt of Michonne. Didn’t really mention that to her, but she was on my mind, consciously...subconsciously. All the time, really. My dick got rock hard. Remember this was Michonne. It didn’t take much for her to get me this way. And damn it her neck was just out in the open. I felt like vampire, thirsty for her blood and if I didn’t put my lips there, it would be a disservice. I was hungry...famished as she put it earlier. I sucked on the silky skin there.

“I can’t breathe when you’re like this,” she whispered, her fingers grabbing my curls and not letting go as I kissed her neck. My tongue found that area I liked behind her ear and licked her there, all the while my fingers found her cl*t again, rubbing soft circles over it.

“Like what?”

“Am I supposed to feel like this?” Her mouth was near my ear. “…Damn, Rick” she purred. She gripped my hair harder, and that sh*t was turning me on. “Like, I feel like I’m just...melting.” My fingers got wetter as I caressed her bud. She shook. You can’t say sh*t like that, girl. Not when I’m trying to be cool.

Michonne would say things that would make me want to f*ck her until I passed out. This primal urge awoke in me, and I tried to control it. But it was getting harder...and harder.

f*ck, I was so hard.

“Your hands...I feel them everywhere. Your mouth...I keep thinking..it can’t...it can’t get any better than this, but this sh*t just keeps...oh my god.” Her hand fell from my hair, and I instantly wanted her to grab my curls again. I kissed her chin. I had to have her.

I reached for my side table and opened the drawer. When I grabbed the condom, I didn’t even slide my pants and boxers down far enough to put it on. Quickly, I opened her legs up and slid inside of her. We both let out a moan, nearly sounding like one person.

She was right.

I would think often that it couldn’t get any better. That after each time I slid into her it wouldn’t top the last time, but it only got better. She was my escape from the real world. When New York was screaming at me and everything was moving so fast; from struggling to make my mark in this world; from all the problems I ran away from back home, she was where I went to forget it all.

I looked down at her, stopping the motion of our bodies sliding against each other. I found myself smiling at her blinking eyes, the low lamplight dancing in them. “Mmmm...I like you, Michonne.” She moaned and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me down to kiss her. I wanted to ravage her, but I couldn’t.

Gently, I kissed her lips. Soft skin against my own, and she tasted minty. I’m pretty sure she was using up all my toothpaste. Her smell was intoxicating, vanilla and something else. Usually we were frantic, like two teenagers discovering their bodies for the first time. Sometimes, I teased her, making Michonne chase my lips until I covered hers with my own.

However, today her tongue traced my lips, the tip of it making its way inside my mouth. I wanted to kiss her. To touch her. To smell her. I wanted to do so much, but there wasn’t enough of me to give to her. Michonne made me want to give her everything and get nothing in return.

I tried to control my breathing, but I couldn’t. It just kept getting faster and faster. My skin was on fire, her touch burning me, and her hands were now only in my hair. Her tongue dipped inside of my mouth, finding my own.Our tongues rolled over each other, languidly, as if it was the last taste that either of us would have. She sucked on my lips, and it made me pump inside of her, only once, a small gasp leaving her sharply. I felt her legs shake. sh*t mine were shaking too.

“I’m lost in you...Rick,” she barely got out before I bit her bottom lip. My teeth softly pulled at the tender skin. My strokes picked up a bit, but I just wanted to feel her. Her head fell back when I released her lip. “It’s all just too soon, I can’t…” she breathed out, but my dick was deep inside of her.

“Let’s get lost, Michonne. You are a great girl, and.... Damn,” I had to shake my head because her puss* was so wet, and I wanted to go faster. I was really emotional right now, and I didn’t have any intentions to be this way. She couldn’t look me in the eye for some reason. I followed her eyes to the corner of the room where she squeezed them shut.

I studied her. Michonne was a living painting. Her lines were soft, inviting. Your eyes only wanted to stare at her for eternity, because if you didn’t you would miss her essence. You would lose the vision of her. I felt this connection with her. It was from the first day, about a month ago. You spend so much time with someone you start feeling this way. You start feeling like it’s just them. That they are the one person who could start and stop your day.

But was it all happening too quickly?

“I’m…” she briefly looked at me before she turned away. “I have to go.” She tried to leave me, but this time I kissed her harder. Deeper. The depth of my kiss, the intensity of it matched how I felt about her. I didn’t want her to go. I couldn’t imagine her leaving me right now. Not when her body was so warm under my own. Not when her eyes looked at mine liked that.

“I don’t want you to go. f*ck, Michonne I’m scared too. Stay with me.” I kissed her neck, and she wrapped her arms around me. I grabbed her legs so she could wrap them around me too. I just wanted her to cling to me right now. God, I just wanted her.

And she held on. “This can’t be good, us rushing like this,” I plunged deep inside of her and kissed her lips as she moaned. I grabbed the sheet beside us, trying to show restraint. Trying not to take all of her.

“You...this, heat." f*cking passion. It was coursing through my body right now. Her hand found the one I had clutched on the sheet, and she covered it. Our fingers intertwined with one another as her long legs squeezed tighter around my back.

“I want you, baby. Not just...not just for a little while either. I want to keep learning you.” I grabbed at her legs and kissed her. I couldn’t see this only being for the passing months. There had to be more for us. Just had to be.

She tried to speak, but I kissed her, my lips covered hers again. I moved our hands until they were above her head, and I started to kiss her chin. My dick grew inside of her, and I didn’t think I could get this hard. Our cheeks grazed one another. Her skin was hot to the touch.

God, sometimes I didn’t know how I got to this point. At what moment in my life, I decided she was the only thing saw. I felt her lips graze my ears before she spoke to me. “I’m gonna try,” she whispered to me. "A blank canvas..."

And I lost control, nearly growling against her cheek. I pulled her face towards mine and kissed her lips, as I moved inside of her.Deeper…deeper...deeper. As deep as I could go inside of her warmth. Anytimes she tried to talk I covered her mouth, my lips and tongue probing inside. She let go of my hand and scratched my back at first, but then she held on, pulling me into her. I rocked us back and forth in that same spot, each plunge inside making her moan out.

I touched her breasts. They were burning hot, her hard nipples grazing the insides of my hands. Satin-like. It was the best two words to describe how her breast felt. The way the looked. The feel of them against my lips as I tasted them. The shimmery tone to her skin in the low lamp light nearly made me faint inside of her. I rubbed her stomach, so tight and firm, but soft, too. Just couldn’t wrap my mind over her softness.

I slipped out of her and both of us panicked. Her eyes popped open and when I slid myself back into my world, her eyes did that thing she does. Her breath caught so swiftly she sounded like she’d been stabbed.

“Goddddd.” she moaned out. Grabbing her face, she dragged her hands down the length of it. Her lips got caught near the end, the bottom one. The one that I always wanted. Her back arched and she propped herself up some, making me lift up too. My dick disappeared in and out of her. I could hear her juices getting thicker, her breathing stops altogether.

“f*ck,” I groaned. She fell back, and I couldn’t let her escape me. I moved with a hurriedness that frightened me. Sex with Michonne always made me lose my breath. This

"Rick," Her soft voice echoed in my studio. The bed squeaked a little as I moved inside of her, my hand massaging her cl*t. My other arm wrapped around her, and I held onto her breast. I just had to keep f*cking her. I couldn’t stop. I could never stop.

Not when her moans were drowning me, and the smell of our sex took over. Her tiny body moved with mine, her legs shaking with every stroke inside of her puss*. I was wandering this world until I found her. It’s all I could think about. That and how good this was. Not just the f*cking sex, but everything. Every f*cking thing.

“Rick, baby,” she grabbed my hand and placed her on top. I bit her neck. “Harder, go harder.” she nearly begged. Her moans were getting longer, and I knew she was close to that peak. I wanted her there.

“Like this?” I stoked my hand over her bud faster. My dick moved faster in her, too.

“Yesss,” she purred.

“Yeah?” I asked kissing the back of her neck. She reached behind her and grabbed my hair. Why did she do that sh*t? I pulled her closer into me.

“Oh god, baby. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna…” and she went stiff in my arms. She tried to push away the hand stroking her cl*t. But I moved it back, still pumping inside of her.

“Keep cumming, baby,” I husked in her ear, and she cried out my name. She made another try at moving my hand, but I kept it there, circling her bud.

“Rick...I’m...god...I’m sensitive.” I heard her, but I couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t stop, until she went limp against me. Her moans getting softer and softer. My own pent-up release left me, and I held onto her, her name the only thing I could think of in the moment. Just flashing lights, like the shutter of a camera, and Michonne.

Only Michonne.

.

Chapter 10: Can't Speak Anymore

Chapter Text

Can’t Speak Anymore

A week went by and Michonne called Maggie yesterday saying she made up her mind. Told her that she wanted to do the cover. Michonne thought there was something empowering about it all.

“So...what happens next?” I wondered, as we walked out of my apartment. I had some business to take care of today.

Wait, that sounds serious. Really, I just wanted to get some things from the photo shop and take a few pictures today. I brought my camera along just in case I got the right shot. I figured if Michonne was going to be working and busy this summer, I had to be as well.

“Next…Maggie says I meet with the editor in chief. Her name is Carol Peletier. People say she’s kind of stern, like Meryl Streep in the Devil Wears Prada,” Michonne said to me. I swiped my hand over my head. I had no clue what she was talking about.

“Is that a movie?” I asked her. I mostly read the newspaper. Scrolled my phone for the news. She called it my old man thing, which made me laugh at her. It’s exactly all my Grandpa did whenever I spent the night. There he was with his coffee, his newspaper, and the channel 5 news.

“Yes, Old Man Grimes...and a book. It’s pretty good. I enjoyed it.” She locked her arms in mine and we walked down the sidewalk.

Sundays were my favorite day of the week in New York. I don’t know how many would agree, but the city felt a little more peaceful on a Sunday. People were calmer as they walked by us on the sidewalk. The world is always rushing here, but Sunday’s were nice. I looked down at my girl, glad that I had her with me right now.

“I have a meeting with her tomorrow morning. I need you to be there with me, for, like...support and to make sure nothing fishy happens. Maggie will be there, too.” She had this look on her face. Her version of puppy dog eyes which was especially sexy to me.

“I’ll be there, if it’s cool with this Meryl Streep woman and Maggie,” I told her. Michonne squeezed my arm.

“Thanks, Rick,” she said not looking at me, but a smile crossed her lips. She held onto me tighter.

Michonne was doing better with her emotions. I think she gets how much I adored her. How much I want her around.

Ironically, I’m the one who’s always pouting when she has to leave. When she goes out into the world, I’m like, now what do I do? I get so bored, and then reality hits. I’m forgetting about all my responsibilities because I want to lay up under her all day. She sends me selfies throughout the day, which makes me feel special. She could share these photos on her social media accounts, but they’re just for me. I welcomed seeing her throughout the day.

But, I needed to get my sh*t together. The money I got from our show wasn’t going to last that much longer. It was time I started working again.

“Think I have a few clients lined up. Mostly stuff for weddings, but it’s best to keep getting work,” I told her. Michonne nodded.

“Sounds good, babe. You sure you can make it to the meeting with Maggie and the editor tomorrow? I really need your support.”

“I’ll not only be there...I’ll be cheering you on,” I told her.

She grinned, holding her hand up for a cab. “You want to bum a ride with me?”

“I’ll see you later. You enjoy the day with your parents.”

“You know... you could always come along. I know you’re not really doing anything today.”’

I chuckled. “I am doing a bunch today. Got errands I been neglecting because I can’t stay out of someone.” I turned her to face me. “Wanna grab dinner when you get back from your parents?”

“But of course. Maybe go to the Bodega on the corner,” she said playfully. I smacked her butt before she got in the cab, bending down to give her a kiss. “Have a good day,” she said to me. I caressed her cheek and kissed her soft lips again.

“You too, baby.” She grabbed my hand, reluctant to let go, but did when I stepped back. I shut her door for her and tapped the top of the cab. We waved goodbye; we were just so dramatic. It made me laugh to myself at how corny I was with her, but she was my girl. My phone vibrated. I dug it out of my pocket and looked at my front screen.

Lori: Long time, no hear or see. I thought we were better than that.

Lori. I felt like I had just got shot in the stomach. It had been a few weeks since I ended things and I vacillated between calling her to check on her, and not doing sh*t. Not doing sh*t seemed to be the least messier of the two.

So I erased her message. I had to prove to Michonne that I was serious, and talking to Lori right now didn’t seem like the best idea. Maybe with some time things could be different for everybody. Right now, the entire situation was delicate. I didn’t want to be this bad guy. My intentions are never with malice, you know. Unfortunately, things just weren’t where they needed to be for Lori and I to have something of a friendship. That’s the messed up part out of all of this.

I decided to call my mom, since I had been missing some of her calls, too. I knew she would be overly dramatic, so I braced myself for the theatrics.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to call their dear ole mom. I feel important. Lordy. I got a call from the big, busy photographer.”

“Hi, ma.” I held my hand up for a cab so I could get to get to the photo shop. “How are you?” I heard her take in air to tell me an earful.

“Welllll...I’m pretty good. My hands been hurting me, but I’m managing through the pain. Your sister and Philip will be over later with the kids. It’s his birthday,” she went on and on and on, and I let her. My mother liked to talk.

I did not like Philip. He was an even bigger douche than John. He liked to drink and sometimes he got out of hand. I almost came to blows with him, but Melissa begged me not to. She said she could handle herself.

“I ran into Shane the other day. You know him and Melissa are partners now.” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I laughed. They hated each other growing up. “I should give my old buddy a call. Sure’d be nice to hear from him,” I said thinking back to our younger days.

“You should. He’d probably grin ear to ear hearing from you. He works a lot too, so I know you two won’t catch each other. Maybe you’ll come down for Thanksgiving and I’ll invite him over. Melissa mentioned that you might come in a recent conversation.”

Damn it, Melissa. I told her not to say anything because I still wasn’t sure. “Thanksgiving is so far in the future. I don’t want to make plans and I can’t make it.”

She let out a sigh. “I know. I know. It’s...it’s just it sure would be nice to see my baby boy. Ain’t seen you in easily 8 months. I just...sure would love to see my young man.” My mom sure knew how to lay it on thick. The guilt. She made me feel like crap.

“Maaaaa. Don’t make me feel bad. I’m just…”

“Really busy. I know. I know. Maybe you can pencil your dear mom in for a brief visit?” she said in that sweet, thick country accent of hers. I felt so bad. I had to give her something good.

“I have a girlfriend,” I blurted out. I could sense the 180 degree turn to the conversation that was about to happen.

“Realllly?” she said with a different, excited tone. “A girlfriend. Welllllll. This is mighty good news. Who is the girl? Wait...it isn’t Lori, is it?” she asked quickly. A cab finally pulled up and I got inside. I gave him the directions to the record store and he pulled off.

“Actually...it’s someone else.”

“Oh, thank the Lord,” my mom said in a murmur.

“Ma, why you say that?” I asked. She always spoke only nice things about Lori.

“Oh...you heard that? Don’t pay me no mind. Who is this girlfriend of yours?”

I laughed. “You remember those pictures I sent to you a while ago?”

“Those beautiful pictures. Yes. I remember. Oooo. Is it that girl? Oh...what was her name? Misha...Michaela…”

“Michonne,” I said helping her out.

“Yes...that’s it. It’s her. Oh, Rick. She is beautiful. That’s the new girlfriend? You have to come to Thanksgiving this year and show her off. The town will have two famous celebrities walking through these mundane streets, ” she suggested. I smiled. My mom was something else.

“We are in no way any type of celebrities. She’s an Art student and I’m struggling to make it in this big ass city-”

“Language, Richard.”

She really hated when I cursed. “Sorry...sorry,” I said with a smirk.

“Lordy. I don’t want to hear no argument. I want you there, with the beautiful model, Michonne. And I want you to take a picture of our family together and set it up so we’re all in the photo. Oh...I’m so excited. I have to talk to her. Is she around? Put her on the phone.” She grew more excited with every rapidly fired question or demand.

“She’s not here. She went to lunch with her parents. And why are you so excited? You act like I haven’t had a girlfriend before,” I said kind of offended. Then I heard my mom laugh. The cab driver started yelling at a car that cut him off. They both exchanged the middle finger and curse words, and then proceeded to out drive one another. I prayed I made it to the store okay.

“Are you talking about that girl from high school...Jessie? I wouldn’t even call y’all an item. And if you’re talking bout Lori, I’d say the same. Y’ain’t never brought that girl home. Started to figure you...y’know...that you like guys, which I have no problem wi-“

“I’m not gay mom. I just never had anyone worth bringing home.” The admission was brutal, but it was honest. I never had a girlfriend. Never really had someone worth introducing to my parents; worth bringing into my life.

“Well...here’s your chance. I’m holding you to this. You clear out that Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday for me. If you can swing Sunday, I’d make an apple pie just for you to have,” she said tempting me. I loved my mom’s apple pie. It had these sweet crumbles on top and the apples were from our backyard. I picked dozens of them every year growing up.

“You tease and taunt me with homemade Apple pie...” I heard my mom chuckle with an evil voice, and I committed to her wants. “...I’ll be there. I’m marking the days now.”

“Ohhhhhh... you’ve made your dear ole mama so happy. This is going to be a great dinner. I’m so excited. Oh...I think I might faint. Dear lord,” she said in a high-pitched voice.

“You are the most dramatic woman I ever met,” I told her. She laughed and kept going on and on.

“Oh...let me call Melissa and tell her the great news. This is going to knock her off her feet. Let me get off this phone. I love you, hun…” she said quickly and hung up. still had the receiver to my ear. When I hung the phone up the driver looked at me in the rearview mirror.

“You’re a good boy,” he said in a thick accent.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Always important to make woman happy. Your mother...your wife...your daughter...Always make them happy,” he counseled. I nodded my head.

“I’ll remember that,” I said looking at my phone. Lori texted again.

Lori: I guess you can’t speak anymore.

Erase this.

And I was about to erase the message, but my phone vibrated again. Michonne texted me.

Michonne: I miss those lips all over me. Been thinking about you all of twenty minutes now. I immediately text her back.

Me: I think I miss your lips more. My dick definitely misses them.

Michonne: Nasty.

Me: You like it.

Michonne: What if I did? What would happen?

Me: Stuff……..thangs……..stuff in thangs.

Michonne: Goddddddd ur so lame...lol.

Me: Yep, but you like me, soooo...I guess you’re lame too. We still on for dinner?

Michonne: Yep...I penciled you in. You got an idea about what you wanted to eat.

Me: Yeah. We don’t have to go out for what I want.

Michonne: Are you being nasty? I wanted a pic of her. Missed her already.

Me: Yep…s

The car suddenly stopped, and my phone fell out of my hand. I reached down to pick it up. It was about thirty seconds before I was able to pull it from under the seat in front of me. The phone vibrated again, and I hit the notification quickly. The only thing I saw was, What happened? I miss you a lot. So, I sent, I miss you too. Send me a pic of your beautiful body. A few minutes passed before I got another text.

Michonne:?????

Michonne: Where’d you go?

Me: I just text you.

Michonne: The last thing I got was ‘Yep...s’

I looked at my phone and I got an incoming text. It was a media message from Lori. Lori. I just texted Lori. Jesus Christ, Grimes. You are a f*cking idiot. I could fix this. Just text Lori that it was a mistake. Let Michonne know I accidentally texted Lori. But then she might get mad….

...But at least you’re being honest. I double checked and made sure I text Michonne.

Me: My phone slipped out my hand. Can’t wait to see you later. I wouldn’t say I chickened out. I just know how fragile Michonne was right now. There was no point in telling her about this. This wasn’t a big issue and clearly just a misunderstanding on my part and on this f*cking phones part.

Michonne: Well if you want, we can order Chinese at my place and you can have your cake and eat it too.

Me: That sounds like a plan. You got me licking my lips already.

Michonne: Nasty

Me: You started it.

Michonne: I don’t recall starting it, but I’m finishing it. I’ll see you later, old man

Me: Bye baby

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” The cab driver asked peering at me from his rearview. I was smiling so hard I felt it in my cheeks.

“My girlfriend. She always puts a smile on my face,” I told him freely, which was not like me at all.

“Been together long?” he followed.

I shook my head. “Not long at all. Been official for a few weeks.”

“And you’re already in love. Young love is special. Me and my wife...been together forty years. I come to America to make more money for us. She comes with me. Leaves her family to be with me. Leaves our beloved India. But we were in love. Love is...powerful.”

“Uhhhh...I don’t know if I love her or not. It’s all still fresh, our relationship. I don’t know what love is, honestly,” I admitted to him. I was starting to feel like he was my therapists.

“Oh, you know. When you look at her. You know. It’s in the eyes. Some say it’s the heart. That it’s the mind...No. It’s the eyes. I looked into my wife’s eyes...my Saanvi...and I saw myself. I saw our children...I saw us moving to America for a better opportunity. Saanvi became my world. I don’t exist without her.”

I listened to that cab driver, whose name was Maneesh, by the way, for fifteen minutes. Every word that left his mouth started to resonate with me. But...I couldn’t be in love with her this early on. There are steps...you know, like the movies. I was skeptical of love at first sight. How would you know that’s the person for you?

Just how?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So, you’ve never modeled before you worked with Mr. Grimes?” The editor named Carol asked while looking over my work. Over Michonne. Maggie stood to Carol’s right, pointing to her favorite shot, which seemed to be everyone’s favorite- the one by the window.

“No ma’am. I just decided I could use some extra money and just did it. I never expected those pictures to do this for me. It’s quite the honor-”

“How comfortable are you posing nude?” she said staring at the photos, peering at them over her glasses.

Not f*cking comfortable. I kept that thought to myself as Carol looked at Michonne. I looked over at her too and she shyly smiled.

“If it’s tasteful, then I have no problem with nudity. I’d want my father to be able to own whatever I do with no shame, though,” she told her. Maggie chimed in.

“As you can see, she looks more than radiant in this one, and she’s completely naked but not showing one ounce of her privates. It goes to show you that her photographer knew exactly what he was doing.” She winked at me and I felt my cheeks get hotter. Maggie...ever the charmer.

“Yes...the photographer seems to be competent and well-skilled with shooting the model. I’m appreciative that he’s so careful and delicate with the woman’s body.” Carol continued to look over the images and I glanced at Michonne. Maggie told her to wear something plain and model-like. Nice jeans and a tank with a blazer. Her hair back in a ponytail. Michonne did the opposite, with her locs draped all over her shoulders, a tight white V-neck t-shirt with tight, leather overalls. The straps on her overalls had pearls dots everywhere. My baby...ever the rebel.

“I was thinking of putting you on the cover with three other girls, but I’m seeing something else and now I just...want you.” She sat the pictures down and looked over at Michonne. “You know something, I didn’t get all of these nice things without having an eye for someone, and you got it.”

I looked around Carol’s office. We were on the thirty-fifth floor of this huge building in downtown Manhattan. Carol’s office was an assortment of finer things...an office that Lori would kill for. Off to the side was a conference room, but she had us in her main office. She told us she only used that room to yell at people.

Carol clapped her hands together. “So...I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime. You on the cover of Vogue for the Fourth of July themed issue. It will be your coming out of sorts, because I’m already seeing you in the magazine for a couple of our fall issues. You excite me. I’m excited, Maggie…” Carol lightly hit her desk with both hands. “...this girl excites me…” Carol went on. Michonne and I looked at one another. When I turned to Michonne a big smile covered her face. I’m pretty sure she was blown away right now.

“I’m...I’m...speechless,” she finally said to Carol who clapped her hands together once more.

“Me too, darling. If I’d known I would have the next big thing in front of me, I would have worn Valentino. Maggie, you should have talked this girl up more. I’ve seen beautiful things, honey. I have worn the finest silk, but you got me living art,” Carol grew excited as she spoke.

She stood up and walked towards Michonne and sat on her desk in front of her. She was an older woman...in her late forties. Carol looked like she belonged in this world, wearing a black dress and black heels. A pearl string necklace hung from her neck, with matching earrings. Her silver hair was styled into a nice bob, and a red lip made her appear like exactly who she was, a badass boss woman.

“You inspire me, darling. And...that’s...rare. You tell me what you want. Whatever you want. And I’ll get it. Get your lawyer to draw something up, darling, and I’m like your fairy godmother. I’ll grant you any wish.”

Michonne looked at me, then Maggie, shrugging her shoulders. Michonne didn’t have a lawyer. We would have to find one for her, I guess. After about a minute, Michonne started to speak.

“I want my photographer with me. I want Rick to shoot me for the cover. I think he brings the best out of me, and if you’re looking for that girl in those photos, you need this guy shooting me,” she said looking at me, her breathing fast. I laughed slightly to myself. Amazed that I was even apart of the bigger conversation. I shook my head.

“Michonne’s overly excited. I’m sure there are capable photographers on her staff that can capture your beauty,” I said looking at her. Michonne didn’t agree, pointing to Carol’s desk.

“If what you want is the girl in those photos, then you need Rick shooting. I’m not a diva, and I’ll never want that for myself, but he makes me comfortable, and I trust in Rick. I trust in his vision, and I’ll trust that he gets the right shot. I trust you, Rick.” Michonne gave me a tiny smile, and my heart burst through my chest. I heard her words. They meant a lot right now.

“You up for the job?” Carol asked. I shook my head, not sure if I heard her right.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“What’s with the ma’am? Ma’am this. Ma’am that. Although, when you say it, it feels like you’re singing to me,” she shook her head. Michonne says the same thing. “Aside from that, this beautiful girl says that you can get the shot. Can you get the shot or not?”

I felt the stares of all three women...Maggie...Carol...and Michonne. I swallowed hard, a bit taken aback, but mostly excited. This was big league for Michonne and me.

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” she snapped her fingers at me. “Darling, I need a quick yes or no. Time’s a wastin’,” Carol said pointing to her silver, Rolex watch.

I looked around the room and nodded my head. “I can...I can get the shot.”

Carol stood up and walked back to the chair at her desk. “Maggie, book them for studio time in three days. Get with your lawyers to finalize everything. I only have a few weeks to get this issue right and it’s a big one. I’m expecting a lot from some rookies...don’t take offense, that’s what you are. And a lot of money is going into this...”

I had an idea. I tend to express my ideas. She could only say no, right? “What if I can get the shoot done without using your studio. I have my own studio...not as fancy, but it gets me my shot I want. It’ll save you money and if it doesn’t work all you lost was time. You busy tonight?” I asked looking at Michonne. She shook her head.

“Time is money, right? We shoot something tonight. I’ll do my editing. Give you all the rough edits in three days' time. Only thing you waste if nothing works out is energy talking to us today,” I suggested. Carol looked at Maggie and they both smiled wide. “Then you still have time to find a suitable replacement.” I added, because if what I gave her was sh*t, then she could just book Michonne for the studio.

“Your friend there is pretty smart. I like saving money,” Carol admitted. “And time. My time is precious,” she thought for a moment and walked up to me.

“You shoot this cover, and get me something like those pictures over there, and maybe you’ll make a name for yourself,” Carol told me. I looked at Maggie in her red trousers with matching vest. She combed her fingers through her hair, nodding my way. That meant she was excited. I looked at Michonne who I wanted to plaster kisses all over. She got us this gig at Vogue. She got me a gig.

My f*cking girlfriend was awesome.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Okay, Maggie. I got you. I’ll be back in Manhattan as soon as I get something. We’re going to my studio now. Thanks for the cab. The clothes from wardrobe. We'll be careful...okay. I will. She’s really grateful. I’m grateful. Yes...” I looked at Michonne as Maggie continued to talk on the phone. She paid for our cab back to Brooklyn so we could get a jump on the photoshoot.

“Okay...well...I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay. Don’t worry. We will be okay. Bye.” I hung up the phone and looked at Michonne. She was looking out the window at the Brooklyn Bridge. She seemed lost in her thoughts as she peered to the very top of the suspended structure. We were now stuck in traffic. Nothing new about that.

“Everything alright.” I asked, rubbing her thigh. She turned and looked at me.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Just...nothing. It’s not important. We have a photoshoot.”

I nodded, letting her rest more on me. “We have a photoshoot.”

“For a bigtime publication.”

“For a big...a huge publication.” I said imitating Trump. She laughed and I grabbed her hand. “Thank you for thinking about me back there. You didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t expecting you to-”

“Shut up. I’m such a virgin to all of this. You’re honestly the only person I want shooting me right now. At least until it’s not weird. We’re a package deal right now,” she said laying her head on my shoulder. An artist and his muse, right?”

“Yep,” I told her.

She was right.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We were out on my escape, looking down over the city. I was thinking of where to take the shoot. Where we could go with this thing.

“What you thinking about?” Michonne asked, leaning against the railing. I looked over at her, mulling it over.

I think I put my big foot in my mouth. I had no clue what to do. It was all so sudden, and I really didn’t know where to take this thing.

I shrugged my shoulders and sat on the steps. “About what story I want to tell. Carol kind of gave me a story, but I don’t like it. This has to mean something. I want this to have some meaning. It’s why you agreed to do it in the first place.” She sat down in front of me. Her arms draped across my legs, and we looked out at the sky, where the sun was setting.

And I thought and thought. Michonne was talking, and I tried not to ignore her, but I needed to have something solid for her shoot. I had to think. Think Grimes.

“...Well, I’m going to go inside and chill. I’m ready when you are,” she said to me, and I nodded.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Michonne,” I told her. She stood, holding my hand. The sun was nearly going down, and with her set against that backdrop, it was just a beautiful sight. A mixture of raw and real. She was just so pretty.

Michonne smiled and slowly let my hand go, our fingertips grazing briefly. “You’re a beautiful man...Rick Grimes,” she said to me as she let my hand go.

If I was in the painting mood, I would definitely come out onto this escape with an easel and just have her stand there. Painting was just too much right now. My camera was the only thing I wanted my hands to speak with; my eyes to see through. My camera was my brush, the shutter my stroke. My canvas was the object itself. I relied on it to tell me a story, so I could capture its meaning, or give it meaning. Whichever happened first. I felt my cheeks turn up into a smile.

I had an idea.

Chapter 11: Down to my Soul

Chapter Text

Down To My Soul

“Take your shirt off,” I excitedly yelled to her when I went into my studio. Michonne sat on the bed scrolling through her phone. I liked the overalls she had on. I liked them a lot and felt I could get a shot with just them on her. When I had this feeling, I knew magic was bound to happen.

“Normally you kiss me a little before I start taking my clothes off for you,” she said in a coy voice. I smiled halfway and picked up my camera. I took a few test shots and didn’t like how gloomy things were turning out. I needed to get the lighting right. Bright, sun-like light.

“I will kiss you after I take these photos. Take your shirt off...bra too,” I said again. She stood, pulling her pearl bedazzled straps down slowly and took off the tight, white V-neck t-shirt. Her pink bra followed next. “You need to show some skin, but be able to let your pops see this right?” She smiled.

“Right.” Michonne stood there, looking up at me. I sat my camera down on the bed and pulled the straps to her overalls back over her shoulders.

“Then let’s do this thang, girl…” I said in the most southern voice ever. She giggled lightly. I grabbed her hand and started to walk us towards where I had all the light. “Instead of me asking you questions, why don’t you ask me some. And... let's stand over there against the white wall,” I suggested, and she grinned, walking and talking.

“What kind of questions?” she said, doing that little stretch she does, her motions so fluid like a butterfly in the sky. Instant shots of her were taken.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Anything, really. We’ll bounce questions off of each other. The issue is about you. About celebrating your skin.”

“My skin. Celebrating dark skin on Independence Day in America. I feel honored. You know, some people almost want me to feel bad about being dark skinned. Like it’s a curse or something. Could you ever feel bad about something you couldn’t change?”

“You should never feel bad cause you can’t change something,” I simply said. She nodded her head, running her fingers against the wall. I caught her and her shadow in my camera, a reflection of her body formed from light. That’s where my inspiration came from. The light always shined on Michonne. It highlighted her, and sometimes there was a darkness that followed her. It made her a shadow of herself. What I wanted was to only see her in the light, even with the darkness of a past relationship behind her. She had to shine.

“What did you first think when you saw me? What’s the first thing you recall?” she asked standing head on towards me, playing with the straps of her overalls. The moment was so deja vu, but in reverse. She wasn’t getting naked this time.

I had to think back some to when we first met. It seemed like she was less shy then...more willing to talk. She definitely made the first move. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” I said taking her picture.

“Really?” she said as if she didn’t believe me.

I nodded my head. “Yep. I thought you were bold and that your skin…I hate using food comparisons, but it’s what I would describe as chocolate. I thought you were a great canvas to work with, and colors would look nice on you. You’re thick and sweet, would taste good on my lips. I thought, ‘I can do a lot with her...use great colors,’... A living canvas…Expensive art. And you’re expensive art. I just think you are exceptionally gorgeous,” I said shocked I was telling her my deepest thoughts.

Her face looked as shocked as I felt. She looked up and her hand held onto her strap, her breast poking out slightly from the side. There was a realness about her. Not theatrics, even if she said she could be dramatic. I took a shot of her then. For a moment, it looked like she was looking into my soul, searching to see if I was genuine. Her eyes pierced my camera deep, her mouth slightly open. Her red lips from earlier were still there, highlighting the fullness of her mouth. She took my breath away. I’m aware that I shouldn’t be around someone so beautiful. I was merely here to paint her in that beauty that others wanted now.

“It’s rare to meet someone with your perspective. Most see me as an angry black woman. The typical trope of a dark skin woman in particular. Add some dreadlocks and my wardrobe and I’m super unapproachable,” she commented. “My skin color is often highlighted as negative or fetishized over in a negative way. Often, men have made me feel this way, but woman too. More so than men.”

Michonne turned away from me and started to twist her head from side to side. I captured the motion of her locs flowing mid air, specs of white wall peeking through each strand.

“Unapproachable?” I looked up from my camera. “Guys weren’t lined up around your block before I came around? Now?” I said thinking about everybody that wanted her. “And your skin is...it’s like a light shines within you...like it’s seeping from your pores.”

“If you saw me on the street, would you approach me?” she said looking back. I took a shot of her doing that, a tiny little smile etched her lips.

“Honestly, no, cause I don’t approach women,” I admitted.

“co*cky much?” Michonne laughed and started to lean against the wall. The white against the black of her leather was striking. A balance of innocence and sex appeal I couldn’t resist capturing.

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean…” I fixate on one person who doesn’t really like me until I see I have to move on.

Like that girl Jessie in high school. She had a boyfriend and Shane would tell me I had no shot with her. I made myself crazy over her. After that I stayed to myself, slept with only a few girls along the way...met Lori...fixated on her. “...I haven’t been with a lot of girls. Not many at all. I usually just happen upon a girl and things go from there.”

“Like with me?” she said looking down, pointing her toes. “I also took ballet. Did you know that? My teacher told me I was a natural.” She started to point her toe and move her leg higher towards the ceiling. Her arms went up like she was a swan. Every second that she moved, I wanted it. I wanted it trapped in time, so I could see it again and again.

“I could guess you did. You have a grace about you….and, no, not like with you. You’re different.” She had that look again cross the profile of her face now. Michonne was liquid, fresh and nourishing, and I was amazed I got to capture the purity of her; to be with her and feel her in every cell of my body.

“I’m different,” she said leaping in the air, the leather not constricting her movements in the least. She giggled when she landed, falling a bit off balance as she tried to regain her starting position. “I’m out of practice,” she warned me. “And I am different. We meet different people, who excite and confuse us. I’ll definitely admit to that. The world lets me know that everyday. You let me know that,” she said spinning again. The urge to shoot her still stuck with me, but her statement rung in my ear.

“I let you know that?”

She nodded. “Everyday I know that you care about me. That I am different to you. It makes me wonder though, how could you like someone like me? I’m broken down to my soul.”

I put my camera down and I looked right at her. No lens blocking my view. Just my eyes on her.

“I wish I was braver...cause I would hate if I passed by you on the street and didn’t stop to get to know you.”

Michonne put her arms down, the one leg she had in the air followed, and she looked at me. Her eyes glossed over, and I walked up to her. “I want to add that I know we live in a world where we are defined by color, but I don’t define you by that. You know...when you first started speaking to me, I just...I don’t know. I was blown away by you. Your mind is beautiful. The way you craft words and share your experiences. The way you beat yourself up, but you don’t allow everyone to see it.” She looked on in awe, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look like this.

The raw contemplation on her face. The need for her to understand me. I saw it all there in her eyes. It was in her eyes I saw it all. My mind starting to understand. My heart aching, but in a good way. “I’m glad I met you, Michonne. I’m grateful for you. For this glowing skin. For your hair...for these lips.” I bent down to kiss her and she couldn’t help but kiss me back. We were like that...magnetic; two forces drawn together because they had to be.

My thumb rubbed her bottom lip, my hand resting on her cheek, and she grabbed my hand, cradling it to her face. “You’re so sweet to me. Always,” she added, kissing my thumb. “We should finish the shoot.” Michonne looked at me with those soft brown eyes.

“I think I got what I need for the editor.”

“Are you sure? You didn’t take as many pictures like you did before. The first time it seemed like you took a million photos of me.” She was right, but I took so many as a shield. I was nervous as hell around her.

And I had the picture I wanted to lead off with on the first shot. Everything else was great. Michonne just breathing came out as a good picture, but that shot spoke to me. I still have it in my mind. Her eyes were smiling at me, when her lips couldn’t. I just...she was f*cking beautiful.

“I’m sure.” She walked away and I felt that same aching feeling. I saw her disappear into the bathroom.

Rinnng. Rinnng...a long with a vibration. My phone never seemed to stop ringing. But the caller on the other end was someone I am reluctant to talk to right now. Lori. I answered my phone and walked over to my big window to climb onto my escape.

“I’m surprised you answered,” she said with a cheery, skeptical tone.

‘How are you, Lori?” I simply said. I didn’t want her to thank that we were going to be talking for a long time.

“I’m really good. The Gallery seems to be doing really well. It is actually taking off rather well.” I heard a brief pause then she spoke again. “How have you been?” she seemed to be doing okay. The tone of her voice held no bitterness in it.

“I’m...I’m doing pretty good. Life is just happening and I’m letting it,” I told her trying not to seem rude. I didn’t really know how to be around her anymore.

“That’s good. I miss you,” she said to me, and I instantly felt bad. I couldn’t say it back to her. Not in the way she wanted to hear. I could only say it as I missed someone, I had spent a lot of time with.

She spoke. “I’ve thought about you these past couple of days. I hope you’ve been doing well. I noticed. You asked for a pic. You’ve never asked for pictures of me before.”

Oh sh*t. I really was f*cking up. With the Vogue stuff, talking to Lori about that text slipped my mind. I kind of hoped she just forgot about it, and when she didn’t text back, I ran with that assumption.

“I did want to say that it was an accident...the text I sent you about a pic. I didn’t mean to send it.” I said coming clean. She was silent for a few moments before she spoke.

“So, you missed someone, and wanted their pic. Just not mines. And I sent you a picture like an idiot,” she sounded...I don’t know maybe upset with herself. I was upset about the confusion I caused her. “That was probably for Michonne. Am I right?”

She was right, but I didn’t even want to venture down that path. “That’s not important. I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea. It was just a slip up on my end and I want to be honest--”

“What is it about her? I mean she is extremely beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but she has nothing going for herself. She doesn’t have a job...which means no real money. I mean Jesus Rick, she’s an Art student. You know how much we struggled. What’s the appeal other than the sex. You two don’t have much in common at all.”

Each word somehow got me more and more angry. I didn’t want to push my anger towards her, because I now knew she still felt slighted about the situation. “We actually do. And the things we don’t I’m trying to like...she’s trying to like. Honestly, I don’t really want to discuss Michonne with you,” I said after I got my point across.

“I’m still surprised by this all. We have never gone this long without talking or seeing each other; without being with each other. I know you miss me. I know you think about me. The way you used to linger around...always wanting more. I know you miss this. Miss us,” she said in a sexy voice. The one she always used that got me to come right over.

“I miss a friend. What we always were until we added sex and then we became friends with benefits. Nothing more than that. You never made it more than that. How many times do I have to rehash this? If you showed more interests in me when I showed it with you, maybe things would be different. Maybe we would have gone in one direction instead of somewhere else.” My anger turned into quiet fury. I didn’t like her talking about Michonne.

“So, you want to throw this...whatever the hell you’re doing with this girl, in my face? You just want to keep pushing a point that I never wanted more. How do you know that? You never asked. You never once asked me if we could have more.”

“I’m pretty sure I did. It seems your memory only serves you when you want it to. And I shouldn’t have to ask. I shouldn’t have to wonder how you feel about me. There should never be any doubt or questions and if there were, I don’t care anymore. You wanted a career, Lori. You wanted sex with someone familiar. We had was out of comfort and convenience and nothing more.”

I heard an airy huff before she spoke. I knew that huff. “You smug bastard. Of course I want a career. Of course I want things for myself. I want New York. I’m going to get it and I don’t want nothing getting in my way---”

“Exactly! That’s my point. You wanted nothing in your way. Me included. And I figured that out. It was late as hell, but I figured it out.”

“You were never in my way. Maybe we have different ideas of what we want. You just see some new ass, and you go running. What makes you such a great catch, huh? Nothing....”

“Then why are you even talking to me?” At this point, I’ve had enough of the conversation and immediately hang up. I was tired of doing this and avoiding her seemed to be the best option. I was honest with her. Transparent. I didn’t lead her on or try to trick her into still f*cking with me. I cut all ties, and it’s only appearing that she’s taken it worse than I thought. So, if you were honest with women, they got mad at you?

This sh*t was confusing as hell.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I turned over on my side, my dick very hard...and no Michonne. She snuck out on me today. Her friends, Tara, Rosita, and Sasha, called her repeatedly yesterday and told her she had to spend the day with them. She had been hanging out with me so much that they felt neglected. I mean, I guess I understood where they were coming from. We were up under each other all of the time, but they’ve had her for years. I had some catching up to do.

After the photoshoot, we had some good days. I turned over my digital copies of her photos I took to Maggie, who couldn’t wait to see them firsthand. She asked me what my personal favorite was, and I told her they all were favorites. It’d be up to Carol to see if the images were good enough. I hope they were good enough.

I grabbed my phone from off of the side table and called Michonne, my voice still raspy from sleep. “You ditched me...for your friends.” I could hear her adorable laugh in my ear, like she was right here in the bed with me.

“I’m just hanging out with my friends. Having a much-needed girls' day. Going to the movies...then to get mani/pedis...then back to my place for a little fun,” she said. It sounded like she was walking outside. I could hear all of the traffic that whizzed by, as well as Sasha and the other two girls.

“A little fun...I’m both intrigued and jealous,” I sat up and looked at my apartment. Michonne cleaned it, and somehow it looked fresher. It smelled fresher. “Did you clean my place?” I asked looking around at my desk with all my crap thrown everywhere looked neat and organized. It looked like a real photography studio over in that space.

“Yes. After last night, you kind of dozed off and I got restless. I wanted to paint, but I didn’t really want to. There was a lot on my mind, and so I just cleaned up,” she said. I could hear laughter around her. And someone tell her to stop ‘boo-lovin,’ which I found funny.

“Thank you for doing that. I appreciate it.” I really did. “ Everything alright with you?” I asked.

“Yep. I was actually thinking about good things; about feeling like things are going alright,” she said softly, almost dreamy, as if she wasn’t there, but she was.

“That’s good, Michonne. Really glad you're having a good day.”

“Thanks...me too... I miss you,” she said sweetly. I missed her a lot too, and I’ve only been awake ten minutes . I missed her lips. Kissing her, god ...touching her. Laying on her naked, with her fingers running through my hair. Her friends were interrupting our time.

“Miss you, too. Sad I couldn’t wake up next to you. So, am I sleeping at your place, or are you coming back over here?” Jesus , I was becoming obsessed with her. Not in a creepy, stalker way, I just needed her around me. All the time, per the usual.

“I don’t know. Tara and Rosita are crashing over our place tonight and they kind of wanted it to be just us girls,” she said with hesitation.

If we couldn’t spend the night together, I guess I could deal with that. Not really, Grimes. “Ok, yeah. Um. I guess if y’all are having a night for fun, then that’s cool.” You’re telling lies.

“Are you sure?” she asked. I could hear Rosita yelling in the back. It was indistinct, but then others started to yell too.

“Yeah, I’m sure. What’s going on?” I quickly got out.

“Some guy was pushing up on Rosita. She put him in his place, he got mad, then the other girls got loud too. Everyone is just standing here looking at them. Oh, oh...now people are pulling their phones out.” I could hear her laughing. “He’s running away now. Those three are crazy.”

“You didn’t want to join in on the fun?”

“Nope. I’m chilling, watching these crazy fools, and talking to my boyfriend on the phone.”

“I miss you, Michonne.” It just fell out of my mouth, and I felt a tiny ache in my heart. A dull ache that I didn’t really understand. It kept happening, and it was starting to happen more frequently.

“Miss you, too. Can I call you later?”

“Sure. I’m just here...by myself...with nothing to do.” I sounded so pathetic. Her laugh echoed in my ear, and it only made me smile wide.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to do,” she said to me.

“I could be doing you, but you….”

“Byyyye Rick,” she said giggling now.

“Bye, Michonne.” When she hung up, I sat up and looked around. Literally...what the hell was I going to do today?

I guess I could see what Glenn was up to.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was on my way to meet Glenn when I got a call from a number I didn’t know. I have been giving my business card out to so many people, including lawyers and agents. It might be the lawyer we were looking into for Michonne. Maggie suggested her...someone name Andrea Harrison.

“Rick Grimes,” I said with less of a country inflection. My business voice.

“Hi, Mr. Grimes. I don’t know if you remember me, but you gave me one of your cards a few weeks ago. At a little bar in Manhattan…a redhead named Alexis.

Redhead...redhead…redhead…from open mic. “Wanted a portrait done, or something like that?” I recalled.

“Yep. That’s me. I was wondering when a good time for you would be. I’m...well...I wanted to get a few headshots. I’m hoping to get chosen for this play that’s coming out off-broadway. I just wanted some fresher photos of me, and I absolutely love your work,” she complimented.

“Well, first off, thank you. I’m glad you’ve shown interest in my work. And yeah, that should be no problem. I have a lot of my work on my Facebook page, so you can scroll through those photos--”

“Oh, I’ve been on your page. Several times. I kind of know what I want, and I know your vision will get me that. I know headshots are pretty generic, but you’ve got a touch. I’m hoping I get to experience that touch from you.”

I laughed a bit to myself, because I wasn’t sure how she meant that. How she said it was weird. “Um, well. Yeah. I’m pretty much open any day this week. You just take some time to figure out what’s best for you, then we’ll go from there,” I said shrugging off her statement.

“Okay. Yes, that’s perfect. I can’t wait to see what you can do. I’m really eager to have you shoot me. There is just something about you that I find really intriguing. It’ll definitely be sometime this week I’ll need it done,” she said, and I just raised my eyebrows, glad she couldn’t see the confusion on my face.

“Okay, well. I was on the way out to meet a friend. Take some time and you can call me back later when you figure it out.”

“Okay. Thanks Rick. Is it okay if I call you that?”

“Sure, that’s not a problem. Sorry to rush off the phone, but I’m just getting to where I need to be. I have to go.”

“Okay. Have a good day,” she said, and I hung up.

“You look bothered, like you have gas or something,” Glenn said when I approached him.

“Just got off the phone with a potential client. She just wants some headshots. Weird conversation,” I said as we walked into the bowling alley.

“Speaking of photos Maggie saw your pics. Word on the street is Michonne is about to be an international superstar. But that’s just what I hear,” Glenn said as we paid for our rental shoes and walked towards the lanes. We decided to hit up a little bowling alley with a retro vibe to it. Lots of hipsters hang out here. Even though most say I’m a hipster because I live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and because I’m a photographer, but I’m really just a country boy at heart.

The place had pretty good food, good beer, and decent prices for a game. There was also a couple of pool tables here.

“She says Carol was floored by the photos. Didn’t want to change a thing, and even wanted to feature her in a three-page spread. You know you also didn’t hear this from me. I’m just saying it out loud.” Glenn has a knack for not keeping secrets. I think this one was a pretty big one though, and qualified to be shared.

“She also says Carol may hire you for more freelance work, but again...this is all conjecture. I can neither confirm nor deny,” Glenn mentioned as he laced up his shoestrings.

I felt a few things after his admissions. I was proud of myself for hustling to get the kind of shot that resonated with me; that apparently spoke to others. Also, my work being accepted from someone who is known to have an eye for all types of art and fashion was awesome. Turns out this Carol Pelletier is like a high fashion guru and anyone who is anybody should be honored to work with her. Let alone be praised by her.

“I’m pretty sure Maggie didn’t want me to know all of this yet.”

“Nah, but I’d figured I’d give you a heads up. Seems like Carol likes the both of you. I’ve heard Carol is a grab ‘em by the balls type’. She doesn’t take much sh*t from anyone or deal with mediocrity,” Glenn grabbed his gold and black, marbled bowling ball. With perfect professional form he hit a strike. My form wasn’t that great, but I was a pretty good bowler.

Glenn was cool to hang out with. He was quiet, but he talked a lot. I know that makes no sense, but he doesn’t speak up a lot in a group setting. But when we hang out, he talks a lot. Mostly about life. He’s probably the most positive person I have ever met, and he’s gotten me out of so many jams. I borrowed so much money from him, and he’s always just like ‘ pay me back when you can.’ I gave him some money when I got that check from Lori. He was one of the first people I felt indebted to. I have a lot of great friends. Best, lifelong friends. Glenn is one of them.

After about an hour, I took my phone out and somehow, I put it on silent. I missed a few calls in this little while I had been here. Melissa called me. My mother called me. Michonne texted me a few times. Lori sent a bunch of texts one after the other. She must’ve been typing like crazy, but I read Michonne’s first.

Michonne: Miss you :(

Michonne: A lot

Michonne: Pretty much all day. I immediately text her back.

Me: You having fun with you girls? I miss you too.

“So, Maggie hates baseball but wants to hang out with Michonne. I got us tickets to the baseball game because she says they can talk during all the boring stuff. You’re coming because I already got the tickets and they weren’t cheap,” Glenn said out of the blue.

“Yeah...If it’s okay with Michonne. I’ll check with her, then get back to you,”

“So... you’re already at the…’I have to check with my girlfriend’ stage. I never seen you contemplate a Yankees game. Your now second one,” he pointed out. I did check in with Michonne because I didn’t want to enjoy anything without her now.

“Well...I like to make sure it’s what she wants to do. I’m considerate that way,”

Glenn smirked, shaking his head. “Already whipped. That’s what happens when you’re in love.”

“What’s all this about love? I’m just getting to know her. That’s it. Some sacrifice is involved in all of this I noticed.”

“When I first met Maggie, I think it was like the fourth week I knew. I just knew. It’s hard to explain and I really don’t want to…” he laughed. “ No seriously. I just knew. There were no bells and whistles or neon signs. I wrestled with it for a while maybe for a day or two, but I knew...she was the one.”

I looked at his goofy smile. He really loved that girl. I looked at my phone and still no text from Michonne. While I waited for her response, I started to read Lori’s text.

Lori: How are you?

Lori: I know this is weird, but...I miss you. I’ve been thinking a lot and I don’t know why you didn’t want to work it out with me. I say work it out like there was a big problem between us. There wasn’t one.

Lori: I think you just saw some fresh face girl and grew enamored with her. You should at least talk to me. I know once the feelings for her start to fade you’ll be back. I know you just want to try something different and that’s cool. I’m a patient woman. I have to be in this business.

Lori: It’s just...I miss you...I miss us. Feels weird existing here in New York and knowing you’re still around. That I can’t have you. I miss what we had.

Lori: Please call me when you get a chance. I know we spoke the other day, but I would love to have a more pleasant conversation with you.

I’ll admit, Lori once had me wrapped around her slender finger. I was so gone over her, that I just went with things. Whenever I wanted to spend more time with her, she had none to give. She always seemed aloof...distant. Like being with me was just so exhausting to her. Now that I’m with Michonne, she’s just been…like this. Saying she misses me. Saying we had more, when in reality...we had nothing. I don’t see what she wasn’t getting.

“Have you talked to Lori since the opening of my Art show?” I asked Glenn who just successfully hit another strike. I grabbed my bowling ball and looked at my score. I was 50 points behind Glenn at the moment. He just kept hitting f*cking strikes.

“Um...Lori had lunch with Maggie. I wasn’t there,” he said sitting in his chair. We ordered some beers a while back and he took a sip of his.

“I’m pretty sure you know what they talked about,” I said missing two pins after my weird roll. I didn’t get enough twist on it.

“You didn’t get enough twist on it,” Glenn said repeating what I just thought. I just nodded, grinning some, and he continued. “But yeah...Do you want to know? I can neither confirm nor deny that it’s about you.” Glenn stood to get his ball again. I didn’t walk back to my seat, just stood there until he got closer to the lane.

“Shoot,” I told him. Glenn gently bounced the ball in his hand. It was his little ritual before he let it go.

“Well, Lori called Maggie about maybe getting an invite to a Vogue Fourth of July rooftop party. Maggie kind of figured it was just about that, but then she wanted to know more about Michonne. Asking how old she was. What she did for a living. At the time, Maggie didn’t even know you two were an item. This was about three weeks ago,” he said hitting another strike. This lucky bastard.

“That was it? She just wanted to know about Michonne?”

“Yep...and get an invite to this party. Which you two kind of got invited to,” he said realizing he spilt too much information.

“WE are invited to a Vogue party,” I said referring to Michonne and I. He nodded his head apprehensively.

“You gotta be like super surprised by this, and don’t tell Michonne. Maggie lives for this stuff and would kick my ass if she knew I said something. Please don’t get my ass kicked.” I laughed when he said that.

“Don’t worry. I won’t say a thing to her.” Glenn seemed relieved and continued. “But yeah. That was pretty much it. Maggie, she really couldn’t answer any questions because she really didn’t know Michonne that well. She didn’t know you guys were an item at the time.”

“So y’all knew about us at the dinner last week?”

“Yep,” he simply said. I took my phone out, after feeling it vibrate again.

Michonne: Hey. I’m doing good. Got my locs retwisted. Got my nails painted. A facial. We are about to leave the salon now and head to my place. What have you been up to?

Me: Just hanging out with Glenn. We’re bowling. Probably about to play some pool.

Michonne: Oh okay. Tell Glenn I said Hello.

Me: I will. Text me when you get to your apt. Okay.

Michonne: Alright.

I decided to text Lori back. I felt like I needed to make things clear. I still tried not to hurt her feelings, but it was getting harder to do. She had to understand that I was really into Michonne and with Michonne only.

Me: I understand how all this seemed so sudden and out the blue, but...I guess I don’t know what to really say to all that. I thought I explained everything pretty good the other day. I’m not trying to throw my new relationship in your face. I’m not trying to make this difficult.

Me: I know we have history. I know that. But also understand, there were times, when you didn’t want to give me more. Sometimes it sucked to hear that this is the way things are… that they are the way things are going to be when it came to you and I...but that’s the truth.

Me: I have always tried to be as honest as I could with you. I hope you understand that I’m with Michonne and no matter what we had... it can no longer be.

And suddenly I was the one typing paragraphs to Lori, but she couldn’t ruin this. She couldn’t keep trying to wear me down with her words of sadness, because it did affect me. And I also knew how I felt about Michonne, what I wanted for us, and where I wanted us to go. I just couldn’t ruin that, because Lori wanted more now.

Now was too late.

Chapter 12: Into a Billion Pieces

Chapter Text

Into a Billion Pieces

Maggie called Glenn and he had to go. Something about needing him to read over something she wrote, which couldn’t wait because she had a deadline. So, I headed back to my place. I grabbed a few hot dogs along the way...a pretzel. I saw Superman and Batman standing on the corner together, which isn’t as strange as it sounds. It was pretty common to see people dressed up in costumes around this city.

I took a shower then collapsed on my bed, taking a nap for a few hours. When I woke up, I noticed the place was eerily quiet, and I suddenly missed this woman hopping up and down on my bed and giggling until she couldn’t breathe. God, was it normal to miss someone like this?

“What are you doing?” I asked when Michonne answered my call. It was around 8 pm now. I was bored out of my mind.

“I’m...drinking…” she said with a bit of a slur.

“Aren’t you guys' kind of young to be drinking?” I said being playful. Michonne chuckled and it sounded so smooth.

“Aren’t you guys' kind of young to be drinking? ” she mimicked. Her words a bit slurred. “You’re really a Narc...you should come arrest me.”

“You’re drunk,” I said with a smile on my face.

She giggled and blew a heavy breath. “I’m not drunk. I’m happily ineeee...inneee...inebri..”

“Inebriated,” I finished for her. She laughed loudly.

“Yep...that’s the word. You should come over. I’ve been missing your sexy ass all day. Whose hair will I play in?”

“Nobody else’s. Those fingers are just for me,” I said with a light tone, but in all seriousness. “I thought you said it was just going to be just the girls.”

“It is, but I thought about it. These heifers always got they boo around. I want my boo here, too,” That made me feel like a king when she said that.

“You sure?”

“If you don’t bring your sexy ass over here right now,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

And she hung up the phone. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do with myself when she wasn’t around. When I was a kid, I had this feeling while waiting for my mom or dad to get home from work. I was anxious for her, waiting like a puppy for their master. I grabbed one of my overnight duffle bags I used when I went over there.

I couldn’t wait to see her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I had brought over a bottle of vodka. Some cheap stuff I got a while ago that I never finished. For a while I was a bit of a drinker. Not a drunk, but I could toss back a few shots. The older I get, the less I wanted to drink. I could get loud and bold when I had a few, but I wanted to concentrate on my career. A few beers didn’t hurt me, but I tried to stay away from the hard stuff.

But tonight, I wanted to celebrate with Michonne. She had no clue about everything, but I still wanted to celebrate. So much was happening for her and soon she would be snatched away from me. I had this little feeling that she was going to become something I had to hold onto. Something that would just slip through my fingers. Michonne was liquid in that way, I suppose. She really is rubbing off on me.

Frequently when I visited Michonne, she had someone else at her place. That’s why we were always at mine...she appreciated the quiet there. They also almost always had music playing. Within a few feet of the door, you could hear the melodic tones of some older song from the 90’s. Apparently, the best music came from that era. I heard loud singing this time when I got closer.

After a few knocks, someone finally came to the door. Tara answered and grinned like a little kid. “Michonne...your boo thang is here. I thought we said no significant others?” she said opening the door wider. As soon as I spotted Michonne I was grinning like a Cheshire cat. I suppose she was just as happy to see me. It was literally like fourteen hours y’all spent apart, jeez.

And I realized that, but damn...did I miss her. She pointed to the couch. “Um, Denise is here. Isn’t she your girlfriend?” Everyone started to laugh, except Rosita, who kept singing the song.

“Exactly...Denise is a girl...there was a no testosterone thing, but...we don’t know much about this Rick Grimes. Come in strange fellow. Let us figure you out” Tara said extremely drunk, but I had a feeling she was like this sober too.

“Guys, leave him alone. Rick...” she said laughing. “Don’t answer any of their questions. Ignore them.”

“Oh. I don’t know if I can do that. But if it’s something too personal I’ll ignore it,” I winked at Michonne before I leaned down to give her a kiss. “Your hair looks nice. I didn’t care if they all saw me. I wanted to kiss my girl and her soft ass lips.

“Mmmmm. That was good,” she said looking at me with that look. That I’m going to f*ck the hell out of you look.

“It was nice,” I couldn’t resist grabbing a handful of her ass. I could hear Sasha groan.

“Didn’t I tell you two f*ckers; nobody wants to see this p*rn. Keep your hand and tongues to yourself.” Everyone started to drunkenly laugh, and I felt like I had to catch up to them. There were plastic cups everywhere, and a couple of wine glasses on the table. Some were half empty...some empty, red and white wine in either cup.

“You girls been drinking a lot I see.”

Michonne rose a finger to her lips and said, "Don’t say a word anybody. He’s a Narc,” Michonne pushed me onto the couch then sat on my lap. She was really drunk.

“Well, I could still bust you. There is evidence of illegal drinking everywhere,” I said holding her tighter, my fingers splaying the span of her waist.

She put her lips against my ear, her hands immediately finding my hair. Heaven . “Be gentle with me when you arrest me. I’m delicate,” and her soft breath against my ear, made me shift underneath her. Sasha yelled again.

“I’m warning you guys. I’ll douse water on you to put out that fire. Cool it. This is girls night.” I smiled and Michonne sat up straighter.

“What was I interrupting?” I said looking around at the drunken crew. They ladies lay about slumped over the couch and the chairs.

“Guy bashing...John and Abe…” Rosita said taking a quick shot of liquid to the head. I saw a tequila bottle on one of the end tables. I remember Abe being her boyfriend or something to the like, and of course the douchebag John.

“Is this something I should be a part of,” I said rubbing Michonne’s back. Then her thigh. She had on these tiny white shirts and one of my black t-shirts. I knew it was mine, because all of hers fit like a glove. Mine always draped off of her.

“Nope. We’re just talking sh*t about them. Abe is a dick…” Rosita blurted out, slurring every word.

“...and John is a whole dick...just f*cks you all up…” Sasha added. Michonne just giggled and then started to laugh harder.

‘Remember when you found out about that girl he cheated with. We took his leather jacket and cut it up?” Sasha said taking a sip of wine, her long hair sat on top of her head in no particular fashion. Daryl said he liked when it was like that.

Hearing Daryl speak of Sasha was so weird. He was almost as worse as I was about Michonne. Maybe even more than that. But I totally saw where he was coming from. She definitely had a comedic side to her...she definitely didn’t take anyone’s sh*t. His included. I totally understood where he was coming from.

Michonne laughed at what Sasha just said, her head tilting backwards as an uproar of laughter left her. “He was so pissed. He was yelling up to the window for me to give it back to him, so I threw it out piece by piece. All of the girls startled to cackle, the memory making them laugh and laugh.

“Served him right...that f*cking douche. The way he talked to Michonne. The way he treated her. God it used to bother me so much,” Tara said sitting back in her chair. Denise laid her head against her shoulder.

“Well... the f*cker is dead to me now. I really don’t even want to bash on him anymore. He doesn’t even deserve that from me. He’s nothing and you can’t think about nothing,” she stood up and grabbed my hand. “Can I see you in the bedroom?” she said in the sexiest voice. She picked up her red cup. I was getting harder by the second and I had to remember I was around her friends. I quickly stood and picked up my duffle bag, placing it in front of me.

“It was nice seeing y’all again. Thanks for letting me crash your girl party,” I said with a grin. They all nodded their heads, their smiles stretching. I grabbed my bottle of vodka, and Michonne grabbed my hand.

“It’s no problem,” Rosita said. Denise and Tara waved to me.

“You a cool guy, Rick, so we’ll let you slide. Michonne?”

“Yeah Sash?” Michonne said turning around. She was already pulling me to the room.

“Don’t you hurt that boy, okay? Take it easy. Not trying to hit up the E.R. tonight cause y’all catch a cramp.”

“I hate you, Sasha,” she said, and she started to lead the way again, pulling me along.

Sasha definitely was a funny woman. The more I hung around her friends, the more I realized they really cared about her. They didn’t want to see her in pain and protected her at all costs.

I wanted to protect her too.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“A doctor...your mom wanted you to be a doctor?”

"Yep. When I was younger. Definitely in high school when we were looking at colleges. She wasn’t disappointed, but wanted more for me I guess. Her and my pops are in the theater and what they do hasn’t made them much money. Only recently have they really started to come up. Artists struggle to get the world to see what beauty they hold. She didn’t want that for me.”

We had a lot more in common than I knew. “I didn’t know that.” I took a swallow of my drink, the harsh liquor hitting the back of my throat.

“Yep. When you were talking about your dad, I felt I shouldn’t make it about me, but I know where you’re coming from. It’s why we met in a way. I was tired of them supporting my dream. Especially when I knew that’s what they didn’t want for me. They don’t complain about what I want, but I wanted to show them that I could make it. You know, somehow when everyone else is trying to as well.” We looked at each other for a few moments with long silence before she spoke again.

“You ever just sit back and think about life? Think about the moment that should have been different?” I swirled my drink around in my cup, and sat on her bed. Michonne leaned against the wall and I couldn’t help it. I had to take more shots of her. I grabbed my camera bag and took it out.

“What are you doing?” she said a bit tipsy. I grinned. At some point, the vodka started to have its effect on me. You always get your best work when you’re loose and drunk. I used to take great shots in my college days.

“I’m inspired. Can’t help it if my muse suddenly inspires me.” I said taking a photo of her. The dim light that sat on her desk cast a faint shadow of her against the white wall. She had a red plastic cup in her hand and looked at me with hazy eyes.

“You know what’s funny. In a few weeks on the 8th of July, I’ll turn twenty. I have, like, this stupid idea that I’ll be more of an adult. That I’ll stop feeling like crap everyday. That my life will somehow start to make sense.” She laughed. “Got any insight on that?”

“I’d hate to burst your dream up into a billion pieces, but I don’t even feel like an adult. I’m still struggling with paying bills...buying groceries. I buy t-shirts and jeans because they’re so easy to wash, and I can afford them. The sh*t doesn’t get easy...but that’s just my opinion.”

“That’s...disappointing,” she let out a sexy sigh. Maybe when I’m thirty and you’re thirty-five things will be different,” she said looking down at her feet. Her locs feel forward and created another intricate shadow on the wall.

“Hey, Grimes?” she said in a soft voice.

I moved my camera so I could look at her. “Yes.”

“Did you miss me today?”

I grinned. That was like asking me if I missed breathing air. I laughed and took a photo of her. She started to take my black shirt off of her, her bare breasts exposed to me. “I’m always missing you.” I told her. It was the truth. The truest words I could find at the moment, while I stared at her. The swell of her breasts, the dark tips that wanted my mouth on them, sucking and licking. Brushing my lips against them. Fucckkkk, I was getting harder.

“For real?” She sat her drink down and looked up at me, undoing the button of her jeans, wobbling as she tried to move her white shorts down her body.

“Yeah...all day. Had to find sh*t to do just to get you off my mind.”

“You didn’t want to think about me?” She faked a pout her hands pulling at her matching black and purple underwear. Her lids were partly closed , and I could see some of the white of her eyes exposed. There was this tiny smile on her face. Dangerous and sexy at the same time.

“Nahhh. I don’t ever think I could stop thinking about you.” My dick jumped some in my pants. The liquor was starting to hit me and what she said made me start to sweat. I wanted to kiss her stomach and lick a wet trail to her puss*. I missed her all damn day.

Her lips circled my dick, just barely. I could feel her warm breath as her mouth teased me. I felt this electric sensation travel down my spine to my thighs then to my feet. I felt it all over. Her hand cupped my balls, gently massaging them.

Then I felt the wetness of her mouth, the slickness she created as she slid up and down the length of my co*ck. “Michonne,” I moaned, but she never responded, just took me more and more into her mouth. I felt numb and my mind started to go blank. I looked down and saw her head move back and forth. Saw her mouth making love to my dick. She was slow about it, the wetness from her mouth coating me and I was losing my mind.

I was hazy from the liquor. I knew she was too cause she had a major head start on me. My hand found her head, and I gently pulled on her locs. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, and that made me pull a little harder. She started to slurp on my dick, and her tongue massaged my head. She kissed my dick, moaning as her head moved faster and faster. I didn’t want to come.

“Stand up,” I told her, the voice leaving me a bit aggressive. She stood and I Immediately pulled her closer to me, my hand traveling to her ass. I jiggled it as I spoke to her. “I missed this ass this morning. My dick was wanting it real bad.” She grabbed my dick, her hand moving up and down it just like her mouth just was.

“I missed it too. I was so tempted to get some before I left, but you would have got me to stay in bed with you all day.” I moved my hand to between her legs, my fingers moving her thong to the side. She was soaking wet. I could hear when I played in it.

“I’m about to f*ck the hell out of you/” She fell into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I could hear how fast she was breathing, her moans mixing with the heavy air she let out. My finger slid over her bud, and she rubbed up against me, lifting her leg. I wanted her sliding on me right now.

“Damn. this puss* so wet." She pulled at my shirt, and I grabbed her leg and lifted it up. I just had to get in her. I dragged her to the bed almost, tossing her on it. She kept trying to get her panties off of her, but she couldn’t, I was already moving over her, pushing her hand out of the way.

“Rickkkk.” My name. It only made sense when she said, over and over in my ear.

Sexy. Nah. Michonne was a f*cking goddess. I wanted to take my f*cking time with her. Kiss every inch of her smooth skin, but I just couldn’t f*cking wait. I pumped inside of her, and she groaned, her hands already in my hair.

I kissed her breasts. Licking them. Then my tongue licks up to her neck, biting her skin there. “Rick,” she said again. And I pulled her legs up digging inside of her. Ours moans drowning the entire space. My desire for her controlling every urge I wanted to take with her.

I was spinning, my dick sliding in and out of her and somehow, we got trapped in our need for one another. Her fingers dug in my back, I felt haw deep her nails were, but I didn’t care. I kissed her lips, slowly, my stroke matching the intensity of my kiss.

“Baby,” I whispered into her lips. “I missed you today,”

“I missed you too,” she said letting go of her hold. But I only kept moving inside of her, feeling her heat... slick and dripping wet.

And I looked in her eyes. Maybe for less time than I thought, but it had to be for an eternity. I pumped slower into her, grabbing her hand, looking into her eyes. I’d kiss her at times, just for a second because I had to look at her while I was inside of her like this. Her faces, those mixes of pain and pleasure i grew accustomed to seeing while I f*cked her. I had to see them now.

“You’re it for me.” I meant it. I meant what I just told her. She was the only one I wanted to be with. The only person I wanted to have sex with. The only person I wanted to sleep with and laugh with. Just her.

She closed her eyes and turned her head, looking away from me. I kissed her neck. Licking her there, my stroke getting a bit faster because she felt like being inside heaven...pure and sweet. My lips moved to her ear, sucking her lobe. That’s when she finally said something to me. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, Michonne. Your it. No one else.” She turned to face me again, her hand finding my face. She kissed me once more, pulling me closer to her, our tongues sliding together.

“Ah,” she screamed when I went deeper. I pulled on her thighs, hooking my hands behind her knees, lifting them up. I just wanted to go deeper and deeper. “Yesss, right there” a breath left her, relief...desire. I don’t know because I felt no relief. There was no rest when I was around her.

I bent lower and kissed her breasts, her skin warm against my skin. I had to stop to kiss them more. I rubbed my lips against the tips, my tongue flicking quickly over them. We were both warm from drinking, but God she was hotter. Her hands rubbed the top of my back, then up my neck, and her fingers dragged across my head, her fingertips somehow cool.

She pulled on my curls, urging me to get back inside her. I wanted to. There wasn’t anything I wanted to do more, but I wanted to kiss her everywhere. Go lower. Taste her.

I licked down her stomach, her hands still in my hair, but she loosened her grip. She must’ve known what I was about to do. Her hips arched upward, and I kissed her belly button. “Rickkk,” she whispered, shivering from my touch. I leaned on my side, my hand sliding between her legs...between her thighs.

And she opened up for me with little hesitation. Her head moved side to side as if preparing for some sort of torture, and when my lips found her cl*t, she screamed my name again. My dick was throbbing against the sheets of her bed. She had a oscillating fan right near us, cooling me down, because I was burning from touching her.

“Rick...oh God, Rick...yes there...just like that,” she moaned as I licked her bud. As I sucked it, my lips covering her completely. My tongue lapped over her cl*t and dipping lower to taste her sweet juices; my lips parting hers even more. “Come here...come here,” she rasped out, her voice barely noticeable.

She still held onto my hair, squeezing it into a ball in her hand. I grunted like some wild animal, her touch taking me out of myself. I kissed the inside of her thigh, her hipbone, then licked the sides of her stomach.

“f*ck me,” she hissed, grabbing my dick an opening her legs wider. I braced myself above her as she guided me back inside of her, both of our eyes locking at the same time.

And I sunk back into her, deep into her juicy puss*, looking into her eyes the entire time. I couldn’t stop looking at her, even if I needed to. She grabbed my waist, pulling me into her, my chest against her breasts. Our bodies sliding to only a rhythm we could create. I wanted to say something to her. Tell her she was gorgeous, that she felt so good, but I could only stare into her eyes.

There was just something about her. Something that made me stop breathing sometimes and I just wonder how I got so lucky. How was I able to be with someone like her. She made me laugh. Her heartache broke my heart sometimes. But I always wanted more from her. Her pain...her hope...her desire. I wanted something from her. And then I knew. I’d been feeling this way for a while, but now I truly understood it...I was in love with Michonne.

But I couldn’t tell her this. Not right now. Not when so much was happening around us.

“Kiss me,” she husked, pulling at my face. The liquor obviously making her a bit more aggressive, but I did I was asked. My lips pressed against hers, my tongue delving inside, our moans a mix of high and low, the sounds echoing around me. I kissed her chin...then her neck…bit the skin gently there.

And her fingers slid across my back, her nails lightly scratching me there. I braced myself above her just slightly. Just enough so I could look at her as I made love to her, because that’s what this was. What we were doing right now on this warm June night. Damn, I wanted to say something to her, but I just couldn’t find the words.

There was just panting...moaning...she shivered under me. She tried to say something, but her words got caught in her throat. One of her hands reached behind her head trying to find something to hold onto. I grabbed her hand. I only wanted her to cling to me.

We rocked back and forth...back and forth. My hips thrusting into hers, her puss* tight and warm. “Right there…” she moaned. “...just like that.” She finally closed her eyes, my stroke getting faster, and she couldn’t handle it anymore, she had to look away. But I couldn’t stop looking at her. I couldn’t stop wanting her.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Jesus don’t stop. Please,” she begged, and I only went faster. Holding her hand tighter, staring at her like I had lost my mind and forgot who she was, but I knew. I figured out a lot in this time with her.

She grabbed my hair, nearly pulling it out as she started to scream, her thighs squeezing tighter against me. “Don’t stop, Rick.”

Shaking. She was shaking, and I my own control started to fade. I was losing my battle to hold onto to this side of sanity...my mind began to drift away, and I still only saw her. Smelled her. Tasted her. She was all heard as she called my name. The only hands I felt all over me. I started kissing her again... my legs tensing up on me, my body burning, my heart pounding, but I needed her kiss.

And time. It slowed and suspended me there in that moment with her and I poured inside of her, unable to move from that warmth she created around me. “Michonne,” her name left my mouth abruptly, my lips covering hers. I wanted to be life this forever. Just with Michonne. I meant what I said to her. I meant it to the very core of my being.

She was it for me.

Chapter 13: Summer Shenanigans

Chapter Text

Summer Shenanigans

She lay on top of me, her breathing slower. We weren’t under any sheets because it was just so damn hot in her room. The oscillating fan turned in a languid manner, providing us brief seconds of cooling pleasure. I ran my fingers through her locs, my heart heavy with I guess this feeling called love.

Love. It had to be that because for a moment I thought we were one person. I looked in her eyes and saw her soul. Pure and light, and she wasn’t broken. She’s just beautiful. Her soul‘s...beautiful.

“I could lay like this with you forever,” I said rubbing her damp back. A small sheen of sweat sat on top her silky skin, trying to keep her comfortable in the heat.

“Me too. I feel like I’m still floating. I don’t ever want to leave this room,” Michonne said resting her chin on my chest. I ran my thumb over her bottom lip then down her chin, a smile pulling my lips taut. I just loved MIchonne. Loved this feeling that comes with her…the feeling that makes me stay here.

And we stared at each other for a while. A definite minute. I studied her face...the line of her lips...the slope of her nose...the arch of her eyebrows. Things I saw on her everyday, but failed to imprint them in my brain.

“What are you doing today?” She asked trying to scoot off of me, but I wasn’t having it. I pulled her closer and kissed her lips.

“Nothing. We can just stay here and let the fan cool us after we…” It’s not called f*cking anymore, but what is it?

“Do our...thang,” she said imitating my country accent. I love when she does that.

I laughed but nodded, squeezing her ass. “Yep,” I said with co*ckiness. She grinned, but doubt crossed her for a moment.

“It’s our thing, right? Something we are just doing with each other...right?”

For a second it seemed like she stopped breathing, and she looked at me with the softest brown eyes. I meant what I said to her not too long ago. I meant it now, and I would remind her until one of us stopped breathing.

“Just you and me, nobody else. Nothing is coming between us.” Tell her how you feel. Say it, Grimes. But I couldn’t. I choked on any iota of an I Love You. But, what my lips wouldn’t speak, my heart felt. I knew she felt strongly about me. Right now, we didn’t have to explain how we felt for one another.

“Okay,” she softly said, laying on my chest again.

“How do you get your skin so soft?” I asked in amazement. It was just wonderfully smooth.

“You know that saying...black don’t crack, baby.” She kissed my chest and I moved under her, grinding my hips upward.

“Really...never heard that...Let me inspect you all over...see if your theory holds true.” I started to roll us over so I could follow through on my inspection, but a loud knock at the door startled us both, and I immediately covered Michonne and I with the sheets.

“Come in,” she yelled, and Tara walked inside, waving sluggishly.

“Hey, you two...we’re going to the diner to grab a bite, then we’re heading to Coney Island. You guys want to come?” she asked with a red Twizzler dangling from her mouth. It was 8:38 am, and she wore black sunglasses with blue frames. I didn’t hang out much with Tara, with any of her friends, sans Sasha, but she seemed...interesting.

Michonne searched my face to see if I wanted to chill with her friends and I wasn’t opposed to it. My eyes left Michonne’s and I glanced back at Tara. “Uh, sure. I need about 20 minutes to get ready. Michonne’s gonna need about an hour,” I said smacking her butt. She seemed embarrassed that I groped her in front of her friend. I kissed her forehead, chuckling at her shyness.

Tara took her glasses off while biting a piece of her Twizzler, the sun obviously hurting her eyes. “Whoa, still have a hangover. Bright lights...bright lights.” She centered herself, holding her hands out for balance. “Okay, cool. I’ll let the gang know. Ahhhh...look at you two. My heart,” she said clutching her chest before she closed the door. Tara definitely proved to be an interesting person.

“She seems like she’s fun.”

“Lots of fun,” Michonne confirmed, blowing out a soft breath. “Well...since it takes me an hour to get ready, let me get up and...”

“Nahhhhh.” I didn’t let her get off me. Grabbing a handful of her ass, I pressed her against my dick. f*ck, I always wanted her. “Lets, you know… do our stuff and thangs.” I slid my hands all over her back and she quietly moaned, not trying to give her roommates an audible show.

“Ricckkkkk,” she protested, but I heard it in her voice. She wanted me too.

“I know. I know,” I whispered. “ But I can’t get enough of this ass right here.” And I couldn’t. Just needed it all the time.

“Okay, let’s be real quick, then let’s hop in the shower.”

“Real quick,” I agreed lifting her up, slowly sliding her down on top of me. Her involuntary gasp, the slight hunch of her shoulder as she slid further down on me. Damn...I loved it so much.

“You’re bad,” she gasped when I pulled her hips against me.

“Just for you,” I reminded her.

Just for her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I wanted some fresh air and decided to go sit on the front stoop while I waited for the ladies to finish getting ready. I had a few missed calls. Maggie. Glenn. That client Alexis called me a few times too. I wouldn’t say she was annoying, but...she was annoying. Tomorrow is when we settled on doing her photos. She seemed more than thrilled about it all, saying that this would really jump start her career; that she saw what I did with Michonne and she wanted that too. Now...I wasn’t sure if I could do for her what I did for Michonne, because Michonne is truly my muse, but I’d try.

I heard the front door to the building creak behind me and Rosita came out and sat down. In her hand was a cigarette and lighter, which she promptly lit. The red stain of her lipstick immediately smeared the butt of the cigarette as she pulled on it.

“You like my girl?” She randomly asked. No good morning, or how you doing? Just that.

“Michonne?” I asked. She nodded her head and took another pull, blowing smoke into the air. A few young girls were playing some card game on the other stoop. I heard one yell UNO, and figured they were definitely playing that game.

“Yeah. My homegirl. You feelin’ her, right?” She asked, her Latina accent breaking through strong.

I’m usually feeling her any chance I get, but more than that I love her. “Yeah, I like her,” I admitted. She knocked the ash off the tip of her cigarette, then rested her forearms on her raised knees.

“Don’t hurt that girl. You hear me? She been through enough. We both have. Hell...all of us up there, but Michonne is our glue. If she not right, we not right. She keep us together and if you hurt her, we beating you down. My ex-boyfriend, Abe, he’s this big muscle head gringo that keeps breaking my heart, you know? But...I go back because we got love...because I’m stupid...because I’m lonely. But no mas. If you doing anything other than protecting her...caring for her, Imma beat your ass….Still waiting to get to that Negan dick,” she mumbled.

I wanted to laugh cause I knew she was serious. I also understood that she loved her best friend and so I took no offense. I wasn’t going to break Michonne’s heart. I’m doing all that I can just to avoid that.

“We gots not beef or problems. Imma good guy. Michonne’s a great girl. I’m really into her and I want this to go far,” I added.

She nodded her head, her big gold hoop earrings and silky black ponytail moving with the motion. “Okay...I’ll hold you to that…”

“You should do that.”

“Oh. I will. Trust that, papi…” And she stood and flicked her cigarette onto the sidewalk. I watched the small stream of smoke float as she ascended the stairs. “...I’m from the Bronx...just remember that.”

And while Rosita stood all of 5’3” in height, I was fairly scared of her. I trusted every threat she just made and knew I wouldn’t compromise anything. Michonne happened to be the love of my life I’ve lived so far. And I wanted that tiny notion to continue into forever. To get bigger. For us to keep going together. I laughed to myself...

Cause it’s all I really wanted.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They say it’s “Heaven at the end of a Subway ride,” but Coney Island is a heaven I have never been to.

I know, I know. Don’t shoot me. I’m merely just a messenger. The girls have already clowned me about living here for years and never going. But I know people who live in L.A. and have never gone to the beach. Who live in New York and have access to all modes of transportation and have never left their borough. It just happens sometimes, you know.

Plus, the group of people I hang out with never ventured this far down to Brooklyn. And I’m not one for Fairs, the Circus, or Amusem*nt Parks, so it was never on my list of to-do’s. But here I am surrounded by a group of woman, eating cotton candy and holding a large Teddy Bear I won for Michonne.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been here,” Michonne said for the tenth time. I grabbed her by the waist as we walked around. Currently we were at this place where they have lots of artist murals on these slabs of concrete. We all took a few pictures by them and looked the painting over, trying to learn each story.

“I’m lame. I know. Don’t remind me.” There were a lot of people here. No different than walking around anywhere else in the city, except everyone appeared more joyous. Youthful. Michonne put some blue cotton candy to my lips and I stuck my tongue out, the wispy candy immediately melting on it.

“I like that tongue,” Michonne said kissing my lips.

I grinned. “Just like?...Not love?”

“Maybe I was too quick with my words. You’re right...I love this tongue.” I started to kiss her again, but her phone began to ring.

“Hold on, babe.” She dug in her tiny, red purse that crossed over her body. “It’s Maggie,” she said when she saw the caller ID.

“Answer it. Might be important.” When I suggested that, Michonne hit the answer button and plugged her free ear with her finger to cancel out the surrounding noise.

“Hi, Maggie...No, you’re not really bothering me. Just hanging at Coney Island... You know...summer shenanigans. Yeah...Rick’s never been...Oh, yeah. You either. We have to change that...,” Michonne went quiet, and I could see her face turn in confusion. “...a party?... Friday, June 15th?...Shopping?...New dress?...huh?”

“I’m going to look at the murals,” I mouthed to her and pointed in the direction I was heading. Michonne nodded and I didn’t go too far from her.

I figured Maggie would call soon about this Vogue party. Happiness cloaked me, but I started to realize that this was the start of it all. Michonne would blow up, and I’d be left in the wind. Which, don’t get me wrong...I’m extremely excited for her and this opportunity, but she’s too important to me right now for this all to get sidetracked by fame.

And she would be famous. Her name...two syllables that will roll off the tongues of many in a few weeks. Mi-Chonne. Her fame would be like a plague, starting from nothing and expanding to a place beyond her control... our control. I just wanted some more time with her. Just for the summer.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was her. “They’re throwing a party for me. For the cover that’s coming out. A black tie event...in Manhattan...on a rooftop...” she added in a daze. I mustered up the biggest smile, because I kind of knew the details. Just not all of them.

“That’s great, Michonne. When is it happening?”

“Next Friday. June 15th.”

"Okay. That’s exciting news, baby. I’m so happy for you. Really excited.” And I was. No matter how indifferent I felt about her rising star…the star I helped place in the sky, I did want her excited.

"I’m just… Thank you, Rick. Like...this year has really been rough with school, teaching, my last relationship. Just...thank you for casting light on my dreary days. You’ve been encouraging me and getting me through these rough patches, and you honestly didn’t have to. Just...thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure to keep you smiling like that. Anyway, I can.” I bent down to kiss her soft lips, both of us smiling at the same time.

She backed up, her smile still present. “So...you’ve never been on Deno’s Wonder Wheel?” Michonne pointed to this tall, massive structure in the sky. I shielded my eyes from the sun to gaze at it.

“You expect me...to get on that?”

“Yes...it’s the ultimate Coney Island experience.”

“For me to die? You want me to die?” I asked jokingly. She shook her head.

“Nope. I want you to live your best life...by getting on the Wonder Wheel.” She took my hand and started to pull me. “Come on. Let’s find the rest of the girls and get on that thang.” I went with her, but it didn’t look like fun.

Looks more like the wonder wheel to my death.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“But you get on your fire escape all of the time,” I heard her mention as we went up.

“My fire escape is a different thing. I don’t expect to be pushed to my death while I’m on it.” I said in the bravest voice I could. I wouldn’t say I had a fear of heights. It’s just I had an aversion to being on something that I had no control over, such as jailing myself in a cage and overlooking all of the people safe on the ground below me.

I decided the stationary white car was the best for me. Tara and Denise told me I was a puss* for not getting in the blue or red ones, but I saw how they moved and was like...nope. I’d be a puss* today. When we were on the ride, which wasn’t that bad, I did see the wonder in it, taking in all of the world below me.

“I get that. Everyone needs or wants control. Sometimes though...life happens. Can’t control that,” Michonne said breathing in the fresh air. “Look at the world above you Rick...and look at the world below you. When I’m up here, I feel like I’m on top of the world. Like I’m a queen.”

“You are one,” I said quickly, and she blushed.

“You always say the sweetest things.”

“I try…” I quickly ducked, “…sh*ttt.” One of the blue, moving cars looked like it was about to hit us.

Michonne laughed, covering her mouth to control her mirth. "That scared the sh*t out of me when I was a kid, too.”

When she said that, it kind of made me feel like less of a puss*. Kind of. “Say this modeling thing takes off...then what?” I asked out of nowhere.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m just doing what you suggested. Trying it out. Hopefully, I’m some one hit wonder, and my life will go back to normal just in time for school,”

“What if it doesn’t? You, know...go back to normal.” I suggested.

She just smiled. “Ahh...well that’s life. You can expect what you want...but then again...it’s just an expectation.”

"What do you expect from us?” I blatantly asked. I had to know. It had been nagging at me today.

“I expect us to rise exponentially...to the top...together. As boyfriend and girlfriend...model and photographer. An artist and his muse. Just us. But again...expectation vs. reality.” She held out her hands as if she were weighing the words.

“I want you. That’s the only reality I know right now.” The admission felt good coming out. Like I was a step closer to finally telling her how I truly felt.

She grabbed my hand, but didn’t look at me...just stared out the cage overlooking the park.

“No matter how much fame or money they throw at me. No matter who wants my attention...you got it. I’m living in the same reality as you are right now.”

i hope that meant she wanted us to keep going. “Together?"

“Together,” she repeated. At some point we reached the pinnacle of the ride, but I already felt like I was suspended in the clouds. Michonne’s comment from just a few minutes ago seemed to be correct.

We’d be on top of it all...together.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Michonne went with Maggie to pick out a dress for the event next Friday. We were now a week out from the event and apparently, Vogue fronted the bill for all expenditures concerning her wardrobe and styling, which she just couldn’t believe.

“They are spending all this money on me. Like I’m Naomi Campbell. I feel like Naomi Campbell, Rick.”

I grinned at her over giddy excitement. “Babe...you are better than Naomi. You are Michonne. Eat it up. You decide on something to wear, yet?”

“Maybe…” Her excitement grew even more. “...Rick...they put me in Gucci. Versace. Chanel. Louboutin. Red bottoms, Rick...Red Bottoms. I feel like a freaking princess. I didn’t think I’d feel comfortable getting all this stuff thrown at me, but I low-key do. Rick, I get to keep the outfit. Oh...my...God…” Her words only picked up in speed as she listed everything. “And Carol was there. She said that I need to have lunch with her to-day. That it’s a dire necessity.” She sounded just like how I remembered Carol’s voice that day.

“Sounds fun, babe. Glad you’re enjoying the day with Maggie.”

“I am having a blast... I have to go, but when I get to your place we’ll talk more, and I promise it won’t just be about my day. I want to know how yours went too.”

“Sounds like a plan. I miss you, Michonne.”

“Miss you, too, baby…see you later.”

“Okay…” and we hung up. I sat my phone on my glass table and started to set up for my thing with Alexis. A couple of profile beauty shots, some full body shots, and close ups would be enough for her new portfolio. She’d be over in about two hours, so I had some time to really set up the place.

My phone rung, vibrating against the glass table. Melissa, my sister, was calling. “What’s up, Mel?” I haven't spoken with Melissa in a while. Mom called me the other day and told me my brother-in-law, Philip, had an accident at work a few days ago. She said it was pretty bad, but he survived.

“Not much, Dick. Threatening the kids to clean their room at the moment.”

“Like mom used to do us?”

“But of course, dear brother.” She sounded like Melissa, but not like herself if that makes any sense. I could hear...something else in her voice.

“Everything alright, Mel?” Concerned, I paused with fixing my equipment up for my session.

“I’m...frustrated with Philip. That accident he had at the factory, which cost him his eye, it’s just...put a major strain on us and I have no one to talk to about it, except for mom… and Shane. I hate discussing stuff like that with him, but he’s like you...he listens to me.”

"What’s Philip been doing?” My tone must've been kind of gruff, because she immediately started to try to calm me down.

"It’s nothing. We just been arguing. He argues with me in front of the kids about everything. I just don’t want them to be affected by our mess. Which wouldn’t even be a mess, but I know he’s in pain. I know this is all a lot for him, but I’m making enough money for us...the kids. Always have and we have some saved up. He’ll be getting disability soon, so I just don’t understand why he can’t comprehend that. We’ll be alright.”

“I’m sure it’s hard for him right now. I know you don’t want the drama, but he’s adjusting just like you.”

“He’s drinking worse now, Rick. All day. I’ll come back from my shift, and the liquor smell smothers me when I get home...I just...I don’t know, Rick.”

That made me uneasy. His drinking caused him and I to not be the best of buddies. “What’s Shane say to do?”

“Says he needs to talk to someone, because his stress is not healthy for either of us, but Philip won’t do that.” I could hear my niece on the phone in the background. ‘Mommyyyy. I have to go pottyyyyy.’

“Oh, I have to go, Rick. I’ll call you later.” She sounded like she was about to cry, but she wouldn’t. Not over the phone with me.

“Call me Mel...any time of the day. I’m here,” I offered.

“I will lil brother...you take care. Say hello to Michonne for me…” And she hung up. I wish I was there. Philip always rubbed me the wrong way. He seemed put together on the outside, but I could tell he had some demons; obstacles that he had to get through, and not just with this accident, but with his past too. He just rubbed me wrong. Out of Mel’s wishes I tried to stay out of their stuff when I was back home. But if he was doing anything to hurt my sister, niece, or nephew…

I’d kill him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alexis had been in my studio for about thirty mins now. We did some test shots and she obsessed over everything. Everything.

“I hope I look alright...how’s my hair?” Alexis’ full, long red hair flowed freely down her back. Freckles adorned her cheeks, her lips pink and bow like. She had a sort of heart shaped face that seemed like she could be an angel.

“Your hair is great. Getting some wonderful shots.” I did my customary questions I asked while photographing. Where’d she works? Her latest project...did she have anything exciting happening? Her hopes and dreams. I loved to photograph the face as it went through its emotions...through its thoughts. She happened to be a very chatty person, sitting on the stool Michonne now used when she painted.

“Sorry. I’m a nervous wreck. Never been photographed by someone as famous as you,” she commented.

I smirked. “I’m not famous. Barely known in these parts of New York.”

She shook her head. “Nahhh. You’re awesome. Never seen someone photograph as good as you do. Your work speaks to me. Like a painting in a museum. Your subjects seem so ethereal.”

And that’s all I ever want...for people to connect with my stuff. For it to have some meaning to the viewer. I’m glad my work spoke to her. “Thank you for that. I appreciate it. You’ll have some beautiful pictures once we’re done.” I assured like I did most clients. People loved to be told they look good. That they look great.

“I’m so glad. I’m not the model type...not really beautiful in a classic way.” Her finger cuffed the bottom of her white tank top, and the blue jeans she wore hugged the tiny frame of her body. I hated comparing woman, but after being with Michonne, I realized I had a type. Thick hips...plump lips...yeahhhh. Those attributes became a part of that type. Alexis reminded me of Lori, which wasn’t bad...but she sure wasn’t Michonne.

Grinning, I shrugged my shoulders. “Who is?”

Michonne is.

“In this town you have to be. I’ve been rejected so much. It’s just...ugh…”

“What?” I said looking through my camera. The playful expression she just had started to disappear.

“I wish I was, you know...thinner…sexier...had less freckles...and could tan in the summer and not burn…” She started to laugh, then suddenly tears and sobs came from nowhere. She was extremely emotional. Like...major tears and I looked on like a deer in headlights.

I grew uneasy because Alexis crying during my shoot was not an expectation of mine. This should’ve been light and quick...exciting for me because it was my first shoot outside of Michonne. But now she sobbed hysterically, and I felt...odd. I sat my camera down and walked up to her.

“Hey...hey. You’re a beautiful girl. My sister is a redhead. I used to be jealous that she had all those freckles. I always wanted them. She used to get this terrible sunburn that I’d tease her about, but I was always just teasing. She could never be out playing for too long without needing loads of sunscreen. And look...you don’t have to be like all these other girls… and if you got any skinnier, you’d break in two…” Jesus, I sounded like my mom.

She looked at me, and I rubbed her shoulder...consoling her. “You’re a beautiful girl, and the things you dislike most about you, ironically are what makes you that way.” I stood up slightly and she stood too.

“You’re just so perfect. Thank you.” Why does everyone think that?

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t a problem. That I didn’t mind helping her get through this little moment of self-doubt. That she’d be okay in this big ass city with millions of dreamers, all waiting for their big break. I was too, but I brought the conversation back to business. “I’ll put a rush on your pictures. I have no doubt you’ll be pleased with them.”

Alexis stood closer to me and hugged me, which was a bit forward, but emotions did just get the better of her. “Thank you, Rick.” She backed up and I saw it happening. Saw those pink, pouty, bow lips move towards me, and my body responded for a brief second...beyond my will.

We were kissing and I didn’t want this happening. Not at all. It couldn’t.

Stop it. Stop it now.

And my brain wouldn’t catch up to the impromptu moment. Funny how you could see something happening yet be so ill prepared for it.

Idiot, Grimes. Stop this sh*t now. f*cking idiot.

And Time has this thing about betraying you and not letting your mind and body work with one another.

Finally, I eased myself away from her, a bit dazed about ow much time had passed. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but I knew it happened. Alexis kissed me and I felt nothing but panic.

Why do women keep coming on to me in this studio?

“I’m sorry. So sorry. Jesus that was stupid.” She seemed shocked. But she knew I had a girlfriend. I know I’ve said it a couple of times.

“I have a girlfriend. I told you this. You know, Michonne.” Michonne...oh god…oh god…I really panicked. I started to sweat, and I felt really hot. I could pass out and I needed water, and not in the way Michonne made me feel. Oh God. If I told her about this she’d freak out. She’d want this over. I’d be no different than Negan to her and that made me panic even more. Oh God.

It was a kiss. A little kiss. Nothing. Michonne doesn’t need to know. We didn’t f*ck. I didn’t want to kiss her, and say she finds out…It’ll be ok. Let’s just move the f*ck on from this. Tell her, she'll understand.

As my mind went a hundred miles per hour, Alexis moved further away, backtracking to her belongings hanging up by the door. Her hands up in shock, Alexis nodded, clutching her purse and hat. “I know. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I'll have your check in the mail, whether you send the pictures or not. I'm so sorry,” And she rushed to open the door, putting her floppy hat on. She didn’t allow me to respond. She just left in a hurry.

Michonne won't understand. Remember how Lori reacted. Don't tell her.

I take back my original thought about her. She was no angel. Not in the least.

Tell her...it was innocent. Nothing serious. Not your fault.

And I wasn’t one either.

Chapter 14: The Spark that Keeps them Burning

Chapter Text

That Spark That Keeps Them Burning

I grew uneasy over the next week. Like, I felt an intense paranoia deep inside that a nuclear bomb was about to drop and kill everything good around me. Every time Michonne looked at me, I knew she knew. I knew she knew about the kiss with Alexis.

But she didn’t. She was happy. Probably the happiest she’d been since I’d met her. Michonne’s summer turned into a big dream, which had her wafting on this imaginary cloud. Out of all of her recent business and going-ons, she still went to teach the kids every week. Michonne couldn’t give up giving back to them. No matter what, I'm going to make some time for my babies. A wave of happiness struck me. I just loved her.

And she still went to visit her parents, who we were having dinner with today. I have met Yvonne, her mother, but not her father, Nathaniel, who everyone called Nate.

“I’m nervous about meeting your dad…” And about other sh*t, too...all the secrets. And they were secrets. On the inside, I became a quivering mess. My brain was f*cking with me, and I wanted to come clean. I really did, but I was afraid of what could happen. I couldn’t lose her.

Michonne chuckled, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “Don’t be. You know how they say opposites attract...that’s my mom and dad. He balances out her craziness…my craziness. He’s a writer so he’s to himself mostly, living in his own world.”

“Good to know.” I grabbed one of her locs and twisted it around my finger. “You make me happy.” You can’t lose this girl. You can’t, Grimes.

Michonne just smiled, her hand running over the curve of my shoulder. “I’m happy, too...and,” she shook her head, as if in disbelief. “Just really, really, happy.”

I should calm down. Seriously. For the first time in days, I felt like we were fine. That we were okay, and things would be alright. And I’d make sure they would be.

Hopefully.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Nice to finally meet you, sir,” I said extending my hand out to Michonne’s father. He grinned, shaking it with vigor.

“Nate’s fine...Rick is it?” I nodded and he let go of my hand, holding the chair out for his wife. I followed suit, doing the same for Michonne.

Nathaniel Turner stood at easily 6’3”. His wife was only 5’4...and Michonne somewhere in the middle. His features reminded me of Michonne. Structured jaw, same skin tone, and his eyes nearly matched hers. You know that saying in the south...my momma says it all the time. Looks like you father/mother spit your butt out. Well, that applied to Nate and Michonne.

“So, you’re the one making my daughter famous? Saw those pictures of hers…” Glasses of water and rolls sat on the table, and I quickly grabbed one to devour. I was red for sure...definitely sweating, and looked over at Michonne, who had the biggest smile on her face.

“I guess that’s fair to say.” Water. My mouth was now dry, and I needed the cool liquid to help me survive this.

“Tasteful. I’ll say that. They were tasteful, Michonne. Good work, Rick.” He assured me. I felt my muscles growing less tense in my shoulders. Michonne grabbed my hand and leaned over, noticing my nerves.

“He likes you...admires your work...roll with this,” she sweetly urged in my ear, and I stifled a smile.

“How have you been, Rick? We had lunch with Michonne last week. She only speaks highly of you. I see you two are making major moves in the industry.” Yvonne’s wavy hair blew freely in the breeze as we sat outside at the restaurant.

“I’ve been good. Michonne’s making all the moves. She’s highly sought after right now.”

Michonne blushed. “But nothing would be possible without his eye. Without his attention to detail with me. We’ve become a good team,” Michonne explained. I looked at her, chewing my bread slowly. I couldn’t believe how much she pushed me up along with her.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that.” The waiter came around and we ordered our food. Nate took his wife’s menu after she ordered and handed it to the waiter.

“When did you decide to become a photographer. What made you pick up the camera?” Nate asked rubbing his wife’s back. I looked at them and saw my parents from when I was a child. Loving...adoring. When I left and would come back early on from school for the holidays, I noticed it went away. I always thought it was because of me...because my mother supported my decision to move away.

I cleared my throat, ready to explain my unenthusiastic journey. “I’ve always been somewhat of a painter. I like to sketch.” I smiled at an invading memory. “My mom said I made masterpieces with my fingerpainting, but what mom doesn’t hype their kid up.” Really, what mom doesn’t?

I took a sip of water before I continued. “I held a polaroid camera when I was 10. An older model my dad got from the thrift store back in 2002, that Melissa...my sister, and I used to play with. One day I went out into our backyard and took some pictures...of the sunset...the birds flying in the sky. I showed it to my mom, and she made a big spectacle out of it. Signed me up for some art classes...and I kind of just went with it.”

“And you’re still with it,” Michonne said squeezing my hand.

“You’re a lot like Michonne. We could tell she had a spark about her, and as much as we tried to keep her on a path to higher Academia, we realized you can’t contain an artist. You see, an artist must fly...they must flourish or that spark that keeps them burning, it just falls to the waist side.”

Her father spoke like her as well, or rather, Michonne like him. Words just appeared like a dream from his voice, soothing me almost. Michonne’s whole identity was a mashup of her parents, and they both wanted the best for her. I appreciated that a lot. Artists needed not only support, but understanding of the thing that made their art speak to others...to themselves.

We ate our food when it arrived, laughing and enjoying the beautiful day out on the patio. Her parents were quite funny, and in the middle of the meal, her father began telling jokes, which both women found silly, but I enjoyed him quite a lot. His laughter was contagious, and my mood had calmed a great deal. Nate proved to be alright in my book.

“You okay in my book, Rick. Just a real stand-up guy.” Who kissed an aspiring actress. I wished I could stop making myself feel like crap about it. It was an accident.

“Thanks Nate.”

“No problem, Rick. Anyone who laughs at my jokes and endures my terribles Al Pacino impressions is okay with me. You like baseball, Rick?”

“He loves baseball,” Michonne answered for me. I nodded, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“I do...a lot actually.”

“I usually try to go once a month to a Yanks game...try to. I’ve been writing this screenplay that's taking me into cave mode at the house. But...I think I can carve a day out for a ballgame.”

“That would be awesome. I’d like that Nate.”

“Guess we should find something to do that day?” Michonne said to her mom, smiling.

“A girl day. It’ll be fun...shopping and the spa?” Yvonne said in a dramatic voice.

“But of course, mother...darling. We shall?” Michonne was just as theatrical, which made us all laugh.

I rubbed her leg, not wanting any of this to end. I don’t know why I was so nervous. Yvonne seemed to warm up to me more, and Nate was just the coolest. His stories, the support of his wife and daughter. Hell, of me…This was a great dinner.

It was a good night.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So, tonight is Michonne’s big night. Everything we worked hard for was culminating in this moment. Maggie swooped her away earlier for her to be picture perfect for her debut, so I wouldn’t see her for a few hours. My plan was to take the subway to Manhattan, but Maggie hired a car for me.

I wanted everything to be perfect. I styled my hair like I was Cary Grant. My curls settling at the nape of my neck. I hadn’t cut my hair since I met Michonne. Didn’t know if I ever would because the length was growing on me. I shaved and afterwards looked in my closet for a black garment bag. I had this expensive Tom Ford suit Lori insisted on buying me a while ago that I hadn’t worn since I first purchased it, but I put that sucker on, and it still fit. I should have tried it on earlier this week, but I’m a guy and my plan B weren’t that bad. Black slacks and my black suit jacket would be a suitable backup. But I had to look fancy tonight, though. I had to for Michonne.

The car picked me up around eight o’clock, and I made the trip over to Manhattan and ran with my racing thoughts in the backseat of the black car. This night would put us on the map. It would definitely put Michonne on everyone’s radar. My phone buzzed, having me dig in my pocket to answer it.

Michonne: What you doing?

Rick: Thinking of you...nonstop.

Michonne: Did you leave for the city yet?

Rick: Yep. Headed over the bridge now.

Michonne: I’m nervous. Don’t narc on me, but I’ve been drinking. Just a glass of wine.

Rick: I’d never snitch… lol. Don’t get wasted. This is your night.

Michonne: I’m not. I have these butterflies in my stomach, but they feel like they have claws. I’m freaking out.

That’s when I decided to call her. She answered quickly, “Hey, Rick,” and sounded fine, not drunk at all.

“Hey, babe. I just wanted to hear your voice. Wanted to calm you down.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Remember the night of my opening. I was a nervous wreck, too. Couldn’t stop eating appetizers...taking shots. I know how you feel.”

“Okay. Can you like, be all over me, and protect me from everyone. I need you by my side at all times.”

I grinned. She was too adorable for me. “I’m gonna be stuck to you, babe. All damn night.”

“Yesssss,” she purred. “Thanks for calling, Rick. Always my saving grace.”

“Always, Michonne. Breathe. Put the wine down. Finish getting ready, and I’ll see you at the party...okay?”

“Okay. I am...I will. See you later.”

“Bye,” I said in the most serene voice ever.

“Bye,” she said matching my tone. We were each other’s calm. I didn’t know if she depended on me like I did her, but I needed her. It’s like Rosita said: If she wasn’t good, I couldn’t be either.

I stuck my phone back in my pocket and looked out the window.

“Big night?” The driver asked.

I didn’t look ahead at him, just stared out the window, up at the bridge. “My girl is about to become famous.”

Man, she was about to be a star.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In all my years in New York, I’ve been to a few parties. Some were underground raves. And I’ve been to just about a million house parties, functions Daryl’s band threw...shindigs. Rooftop parties were frequent, especially during the summer. Glenn and Maggie had a fourth of July rooftop party last year, that I’m still secretly recovering from. That was a wild night.

But I have never been to a party as elegant as this. Never. This place was decadent. It dripped luxury. Strings of lights illuminated the place... soft white lights making everything seem like a dream. Glass walls that lined the roofs edge were highlighted in the same manner. And tiny tables sat in one little space for people who wanted to rest their drinks and converse. A gentleman played piano off to the side and a large couch placed over there allowed a few people to sit with their martinis and chat up a storm. Laughter and happiness were everywhere.

The 360-degree view from the top of the hotel had me in awe. And yes, this was less scary than that Wonder Wheel. I had a euphoric feeling...floating...drifting almost. The air was thinner up here, but I didn’t mind. The thoughts in my mind were clear.

“Rick Grimes?” A man’s voice asked. I turned to see an older gentleman with neat, grayish white dreadlocks, and a suit just as fancy as mine. He held his hand out and I shook it, not knowing who he could possibly be.

“The one and only,” I smoothly answered.

“Now, I’m pretty sure there are millions of Rick Grimes in the world, but there are none as promising as you, I can only guess. Hi, I’m Ezekiel King.”

I looked at him like I hadn’t a clue who he was. I didn’t.

“You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?” I laughed sheepishly, agreeing that I had no idea.

“I’m the husband of the editor of Vogue, Carol Pelletier. She speaks very highly of you. Hasn’t stopped talking about you or the lady of the evening, Michonne.”

“Oh, gosh. Okay. How are you doing Mr. King, sir?

“She did mention you having quite the manners. Zeke is fine. However, I do like how you say my last name...kang. You’re from the south I take it.”

“Yes...Zeke by way of Georgia.”

“We’ve been to Georgia a few times. Just for visiting. Carol loves the atmosphere down there. The only time we’re really at peace from this world.” His voice started to drift off for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I’ve seen your work. Good stuff man. Lots of raw talent.”

“Thanks. I’m okay I guess. Just really starting to find my footing-“

He interrupted me. “Never talk down about your craft. If someone tells you you’re the sh*t, you better agree and say it with vigor. Even if you’re not, you fake it until you are make it. That’s how we all get to where we want to be.”

I always welcomed advice and realized maybe I shouldn’t doubt myself when others tell me how good I am. If anything, Ezekiel had a point. I wouldn’t be as big as I wanted if I didn’t believe in my own craft as much as others did.

We talked some more, just shooting the breeze, and then...I heard murmuring, like a celebrity just entered, followed by some applause. I looked around trying to see who it was,lifting my head above the growing crowd. Maggie said some well known people would be in attendance and I was ready for whoever came.

“There’s Carol making an entrance,” he said with a French accent. “She’s faking it right now,” he added with a chuckle. “That’s the most recluse woman I know.” Zeke rapped me in the shoulder.

“There’s your girl.” He pointed past Carol where Michonne made her entrance, with Maggie at her side. I saw Carol and Maggie. I knew they were there, but my eyes were fixated on Michonne.

You know that feeling when you feel like you’ve discovered the answer to life. When the pieces all start to fall in place and the world spins on its axis at your speed. No rushing, merely pausing for you to revel in a moment. That’s the feeling that coursed through my veins right now.

Though the rooftop was brightly lit, she seemed to glow as she walked down the red carpet. The gold dress she wore clung to every curve of her body, the deep v-cut in the front highlighted her skin, bronzed as if kissed by the sun...and she glowed. Thousands of sequins shimmered like fireflies in the night, and my eyes danced all over her. The sight of her consumed me and the rest of the world blurred in my peripheral. Only Michonne graced my vision.

Someone called her name, and she whirled around, revealing her back. Femininely sculpted from hours of her workout regimen, toned with this arch that curved into her backside. Her locs flowed freely, and she swung back around, the motion causing them twirl with her. She smiled with bright red lipstick, the color of lust and desire. Jesus...she was f*cking beautiful.

When she spotted me, her smile grew exponentially, her face the happiest I’d seen in a while. And I was stuck. Her beauty froze me right there and I felt like I had no right to even approach her. She was divine royalty, and I was merely a peasant. People took out their phones, realizing they had a star in their vicinity. They all saw what I saw.

Michonne managed to break away from Carol and Maggie, pointing daintily towards me. As she approached, I still felt unworthy. I shouldn’t be in her presence. She sauntered towards me, the high slit of her dress showcasing more bronzed skin.

“Rick.” She sounded like Michonne. She wasn’t Michonne, but I was awestruck. She waved a hand in my face and giggled. “Earth to Rick.”

“You… Jesus woman. Look at you,” I barely whispered. I dared to grab her hand lifting it slightly above her head and slowly turning her around.

She giggled again. “I could say the same about you...you look good, Rick. Like a movie star. Look at your slicked back hair, ” she added touching me there. I wanted to kiss her, but I couldn’t kiss a goddess. It didn’t seem like something mere mortals did.

“Michonne...baby...damn. I’m...I'm...girl ya got me speechless.” If I tried to wipe the smile off her face, it would take me hours.

“Stop it, Rick. You’re making me blush. Come on,” she urged holding her hand out. I took it and she then locked her arm in mine. “Let's show them a power couple,” she whispered. I could only smile. I still had no words.

Her beauty had me on mute.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for joining me this evening. I’m usually not this showy.” As she said that, laughter erupted, and she joined in only the small laughter. “Who am I kidding...this is me. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t put on a show for this young lady. We here at Vogue thinks she has a promising future and are willing to nurture her growth in this world. I could stand here and ramble off this and that, but I’ll just let you all see. Maggie...darling.”

Maggie walked up to the canvas, her red dress was like a halter style, and her heels had the same color on top and bottom of shoe. She paused before the big reveal. “For the Fourth of July big skin issue, we here at Bogue would live to present...Michonne.” And like a magician, Maggie whisked the red drape off of the photo, revealing my favorite shot. The crowd gasp, followed by murmuring and then an uproar of applause.

There she was...my girlfriend...on that tripod stand with a huge mockup of the cover, the word Vogue faintly there to highlight her beauty. Just like she did in person, she illuminated, appearing as if she came to life right off the very portrait stock. The applause hadn’t stopped, and more photographers began taking pictures, the flashes blinding me.

“And this is the man who captured all of this beauty,” Carol said addressing me. “I’ll openly say I took a chance on him, and it’s a decision I do not regret in the least. Ladies and gentlemen...again. The shining star, Michonne, and her personal photographer, Rick Grimes.”

Carol walked up to Michonne, holding her white microphone up to her. “Darling...say a few words,” she urged. I could tell Michonne didn’t want to; that she had a fear of public speaking, so I gently rubbed her soft, bare back, leaning over to her. My lips pressed slightly against her ear.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere...just look at me when you need to,” I told her. She smiled, reluctant, but I knew she’d give a little speech.

Michonne cleared her throat, her tiny hand interlocking with mine, shaking some. “I’m really in awe. Like most things in this world, this happened so fast and I’m so grateful. I really have no clue what’s in store, but I’m ready for anything. I want to thank Carol and Maggie for everything, really. I feel like a Queen. And I want to thank Rick,”

She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes delving into mine. I wouldn’t look away, bringing her hand up and kissing it softly. “If I could look into any window...it would be yours, where the light is so pure and honest. I know I’d never be lost with you. Thanks for everything. For it all.” Her lips quivered a bit, like she might cry, but she held it in. But I couldn’t. I felt a single tear leave my eye, and I kissed her cheek.

I’d never forget this night.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“The cover...Rick. Jesus. I didn’t even know I looked like that. You’re f*cking great.” She had some wine tonight. I know I snuck her some. The wait staff kept buzzing by with trays and no one even questioned her drinking. After everyone left us alone, we escaped to the makeshift dance floor, the piano playing a soft tune made just for us.

“My muse makes me that way.” Her smile stretched as she looked up at me. This gorgeous f*cking woman. Jesus. I just love you.

Her gold dress glittered in the decadent lights on the rooftop, the sequins dancing to their own tune, as we danced. It was the middle of June...the air blew by us briefly in spurts, cooling me down from my heated thoughts.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Michonne. I’m glad I met you. Glad you’re in my life.” I grabbed her ass and instead of her being shy about it, she smiled harder.

“Do you ever get tired of telling me how beautiful I am?”

“Are you going to stop being beautiful?” She nodded her head as I shook mine.

“We age, Rick. Get wrinkles...Grey hair. Eventually I will...too.”

“I thought you said black don’t crack.” My sarcastic tone left her giggling.

“That’s true...it don’t crack. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll be beautiful forever.” Her dreamy voice breezed in the air. She took my breath away right now.

“You’re gonna be mine forever.” That wasn’t a question, but a statement...a fact. Things were going well. Yeah yeah, I hadn’t told her about a few things, but they were minor. That dumb Lori situation and the crazy Alexis kiss. I never acted on them, and why mess up our happiness over some crazy mistakes? Why mess up this night? Why mess up us?

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just come with me,” I nodded my head towards the entrance to the roof. “I need to talk to you.”

“I know what you’re thinking and no. I’m not slipping away so we can f*ck in a closet.” Michonne smirked and I burst out laughing.

“You can really read my thoughts, huh?”

“They’re loud and clear. I see that color blue in your eyes. That’s lust. You been eyeing me all night.”

“Can you blame me, babe?” I rubbed the small of her back and she shook her head, the tips of her locs grazing my hand randomly.

“Not at all. I look good.” A co*cky smile crossed her face. She knew she looked good. “Plus...Maggie got me a suite at the hotel...no expenses spared, darling.”

“Rick...Michonne.” That voice. That f*cking voice.

“Lori?” Michonne slurred out.

“Lori?” I repeated.

“Well, fancy this, Michonne. I saw the stardom you possessed from the start, but I guess I’m just not good enough to be with.” Lori’s eyes stayed on Michonne, but I knew that comment was for me.

Just then Maggie and Glenn walked up to us. “Hey, Lori,” Maggie said with mock enthusiasm. “You came?”

“Yes, I came. My guest and I... she’s a new talent...trying to show her off to some of the big names here in the business. You know how I can be, Rick. I’m relentless with my devotion to my talent.”

I grew more uneasy and hotter, trying to play it off as my drinking making me that way. I smoothed my hand back over my hair. “Yes...you are relentless,” I said sarcastically. She grinned.

“Maybe you know who she is Maggie. Her name is Alex Jones. She’s right over there.” All of us turned towards the figure she pointed to. An instant cold sweat covered my forehead.

There she was. There was Alexis, standing there in a long red gown, laughing with a group of men. I looked back at Lori, who had a crooked smile on her face. Maggie shook her head.

“No, I don’t think I know her,” she responded.

“What about you, Rick? Maybe you know Alex?” Lori’s snide smirk and remark had me uneasy. What exactly did she know?

And I couldn’t lie. I knew who she was. “Ironically, I shot her a few days ago. Built a new portfolio so she could audition for a play.”

Michonne looked on… growing aware. “Oh, your new client. Small world in a big city. Did you know she’d be here? Did she mention that to you?”

I looked over at Alexis who now saw me and waved, her smile shy and nervous. I started to panic. This shouldn’t be happening. I felt like I was in a weird mystery movie and the clues had been in my face the whole time. How long had Lori known her? Did Alexis know I knew Lori? How did this happen?

What the f*ck was going on?

.

Chapter 15: What is This

Chapter Text

What Is This

“You’re drinking like a fish, man. Slow down,” Glenn said sitting on the couch with me. Michonne drifted off, somewhere with Maggie and Carol on one side of the room, Lori and Alexis were on the other side with some contributing editors at Vogue. And I sat my drunk ass on this white couch going through mental despair.

“Got a lot on my mind, Glenn. Just a lot of f*cking things going fast up there right now.”

“Well take it easy. You know how you like to pass out after a few.”

He was right, but if I didn't drink right now, I think I’d overthink this situation. Lori was up to something. Had been up to something for a while. Maybe? She wouldn't be this vindictive, right? She wouldn’t try to sabotage my relationship with Michonne.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was the type of woman who would do anything to get what she wants. Whatever she wanted and by any means. I wanted to say something to Glenn, but he couldn’t hold water. I’d have to take every little stupid secret of mine with me…

... to my impending grave.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I wanted to get the hell out of there, but I had no real reason to leave other than trying to avoid confrontation. I needed another drink, and I needed to get these secrets off my chest, but this was Michonne’s night. I tried my best to avoid things spiraling out of control.

And then here comes Lori, walking up to me with this stupid looking smirk on her face. She looked like a devil in a blue dress float dress. Be polite, Grimes. Don’t put on a show.

“Rick, babe...how you been?” She tried to hug me, but I back away. Her slick ponytail shook side to side from the recoil.

“What the f*ck do you want Lori?” Smooth, Grimes. I had no time for whatever she wanted.

“Wow...language, Rick. You didn’t talk dirty to me like that until we started f*cking late at night.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m...going. Don’t follow me.”

She pulled on my arm, stopping me before I could move far. “I wonder what Michonne would think about you texting me to send you naughty photos. Or... how’d she feel about you kissing Alexis. It would probably break her poor, little, artist heart.” Lori’s mock frown infuriated me.

“Don’t you f*cking dare, Lori. It was an honest mistake, and I love Michonne.” I couldn’t believe I admitted that to her, but furthermore, what she just said made me think even harder about the entirety of the situation. “How’d you know about Alexis? What kind of games are you playing here, Lori?”

“Soooo...Michonne doesn’t know...um um umm.” She started to brush some lint off of my shoulders and I backed away again. “But to answer your question, I don’t know...I just bumped into Alex one day at the gallery and she really wanted new photos. I suggested you come do them since you have a way with photographing younger women. Oddly enough, she had run into you one night at the little hole in the wall down the street from my gallery. Oh, Rick. Seems like you’ve got yourself in a pickle of a situation now.” Her mock sympathy angered me more than that stupid frown from earlier.

“You put her up to this? To kissing me?”

Lori scoffed. “Of course not. I just know your M.O. You have no problem finding helpless, young women attractive. Wanting to save all of those who need saving. You kind of set this all up yourself. Alexis did confide in me. Let me know how bad she felt after it happen. Though, I may have led her to believe you and Michonne weren’t so serious and that she should take her chances pursuing you, but…”

“You f*cking...bitch…You did do this...” I was drunk and it just slipped out. That was mean...apologize...No, f*ck her.

“Rick, tsk tsk...language. It’s just a kiss. An innocent kiss, right? Accidentally texting me was innocent? Seems like you would have told the girl you love that an unfortunate mistake happened between you and the client...Such as like what happened with you and Michonne. You had no problem rubbing that in my face.”

i turned my face at her. “Are you still on that? I ended it a while ago, Lori. I care about Michonne. Honestly, more than I ever cared for you.” Liquor makes me honest to a fault.

“You love her? You care about her feelings? What about me? What about my feelings, Rick?”

“I cared enough about you to end it. To let you go and not string you along. Like you did me the entire time we knew each other. You just want it all. You want to have your cake and eat it, too.” I felt myself tripping over my words, so I took a step back. “I told you that I texted you by accident that day. And that pathetic kiss from Alexis meant nothing. The only person’s feelings I care about in this entire f*cked up situation...a situation that you seemed to have a f*cking hand in...is Michonne.”

“You never learn, Rick. You never learn who really has your back. Who has always had it. And you talk to me like this? You f*cking call me a bitch and tell me I meant nothing. That Michonne is some kind of once in a lifetime love. You care so much about her, but you couldn’t…you can’t tell her the f*cking truth. Oh, I see. You have a good night, Rick...with the girl you love.”

Lori walked away and the sweat started to seep from every pore in my body. I was too drunk for all of this, which made me want to get the hell off of this roof. I was beginning to think that Lori was crazy. But in a way she was right.

I should just tell Michonne the truth.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hey? You okay?” Michonne walked up to me and kissed my cheek. I was on my fifth rum and co*ke, and deciding if I should tell her about what happened... about Lori...about Alexis. All of it. I just didn’t want to ruin us. I didn’t want to end this perfect night for her.

“I’m good. Just getting out of the spotlight and letting you do your thing. Letting the world fawn over you.” She took my cup out of my hand and finished off the drink.

“Yeah, yeah. Come here.”

“What’s up?”

“Umhmm. Let’s say you and I blow this joint and sneak away.” Her lips crushed mine. I could tell she was as drunk as me.

“But...I thought you said…”

“Forget what I said. I want to rip this expensive ass Tom Ford suit off of you and suck your dick...but if you just want to-” She started to walk off, but I grabbed her hand.

“Come here.” I pulled her closer to me grabbing her face with my other hand and kissing her deeply...harder. She tasted so good. And smelled like heaven on clouds. Were there people looking at me kiss her? Most likely, but I didn’t care. I had a lot on my mind, but only one thought existed now...Michonne.

“I want those lips on my thick thighs, moving between my legs. I want you, baby,” Michonne groaned, by my lips. “I want you, Rick,” she moaned in my ear, and I held her close.

I looked around, trying to will my dick to stay down, but that was a losing battle. She grabbed my hand and led me to the entryway leading off the roof. I walked close behind her, taking in her smell. Taking in all that was Michonne. I had to tell her. I would tell her. It just wasn’t the right time.

By the time we reached her room door, I turned her around, my hand sliding up the inside of the thigh high slit of hers.

Her key card in hand, she tried to insert it into the slot, failing miserably. I snatched it from her hand, opening the door quickly, and lifting her up slightly, dragging us both into the room.

She wiggled out of my hands, having me put her down. “Hold on...hold on...come look at this,” and she pulled me to the huge window on the other side of this gigantic suite. The place was bigger than my apartment. Luxurious just like the rest of the hotel. Gold dropped everywhere...lining the molding...the drapes...Michonne. The place was spectacular.

“I know the view is the same as on the rooftop but come here.” And she stood in front of me, holding her hands up to the window.

“It’s better. No one else is around us right now.” My tongue found the side of her neck, and I licked a wet trail there. “You never told me what you’re wearing.” My hand found her slick puss*, sliding her thong to the side, my fingers rubbing over her slippery bud.

“Versace.” She rasped, taking my other hand and guiding it over her body, until I caressed her breasts, squeezing one softly. “Maggie says I was born to wear Versace… that it fits me like a glove.”

“Like a glove, baby. But my real question is...how do I get this thing off of you?”

“There’s an invisible zipper in the back.” I lazily grinned, my hands moving to the back of her dress where her sculpted back dipped and the curve of her ass started. “You look good tonight, baby…really good.”

“You do, too. Never seen you so handsome before,” she said with a low, soft chuckle. “Full drunk admission...I wanted to f*ck you all night. I just didn’t want to ruin the dress,” she said as I found the zipper, slowly moving the thing down her ass.

“You know I wanted to f*ck you. Thought about it all night?”

“I know,” she purred. “This puss* still mine?” I asked, moving the thin straps that sat on her shoulders down. I could see her eyes close in the reflection of the glass with the city lights also in view. In seconds, I slid the dress down her body, and she only stood there in her red thong, her perky titt*es on full display of the world.

“This puss* is always yours,” she told me, shaking from anticipation. The tips of my fingers grazed her silken skin.

“Yeah? I kissed the nape of her neck, and a soft sigh escaped her.

“Yes, Rick. It yours.”

“Can I have it, Michonne. Can I have this puss*?” My hand moved to the front of her, gentle circles glided over her stomach. She grabbed it, moving my hand lower.

“You don’t have to even ask. Feel how much I want you to have it...to have me,” she breathed. She guided my fingers between her legs more, moving them leisurely over her throbbing slit. Her tiny moans always did something to me.

She leaned her head back, resting it on my chest. “See, baby...I’m soaking wet, and all you’re doing is talking to me.” Michonne arched her back, her round ass rubbing against my hard dick. Damn...I wanted her.

She turned around her expensive strap's gold heels still in her feet, and her ass jiggled with the movement. “I wanted to look at you baby.” She slid my jacket off of me, her ha da rubbed by my arms over my white tux shirt.

And then she unbuttoned my shirt, nimble fingertips working their way down. I loved when she took her time to undress me, our eyes would stay locked on one another. She had this coy, sexy little smile that drove me wild. By the time she unbuttoned my pants, my dick was rock hard, the veins bulging in her tiny hand.

She slowly bent down, kissing my bare chest, the start of my abs, around my belly button, and down the trail of curly hair that led to my awaiting co*ck. She smiled at me again before she took the length of me in her mouth, and I closed my eyes for a brief second, enjoying the feel of the soft insides of her mouth. She was warm around my dick, making it as wet as she could.

“Yes, baby...yesss...like that Michonne.” And she moved deeper, her mouth working magic that I wanted to feel forever. I opened my eyes looking out at the city as her warm mouth sucked and licked over the tender head of my dick.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned. She hummed...the vibrations making me writhe from desire. I grabbed her head, gently helping her along, moving her locs to one side so I could watch her mouth love on me. Jesus, she was so sexy.

“You like that, baby? You like how I’m sucking this big dick?” Her mouth slid further down my dick, and I hissed, the sensation too much, but not enough at all.

“Yes, Michonne. Yessss…” I moved her locs again. I needed to see her. “Like that, Chonne,” I groaned, and she worked me to where my legs felt numb. To where I felt a tingling sensation and that need to explode all over, but I wanted to feel the inside of her. Her hot, dripping wet puss*.

“Come here, baby. C’mere.” And she stood, her tiny hand still striking my dick. “You so f*cking sexy, Chonne. So sexy.” I whispered. Her warm hand still circled around me.

I lifted her up, her heels still on and walked us over to the bed. She buried her face in my neck, licking and sucking. Whispering sexy sh*t in my ear over and over. The rasp of her voice making my dick get even harder.

We collapsed on the bed, and I spread her legs apart, rushing inside of her. Michonne’s warmth made me lose my breath and I kissed her to steal hers away to.

“Rickkkkk…” she mumbled at some point between our sloppy kisses, and my tongue traced the lines of her lips...her cheek.

“Your mine forever.” I pushed deeper inside her, her wetness thicker and sweeter. “Forever, Michonne…”

“Forever…” she mumbled, her hands grabbing the tips of my curls. She moved them down my back, her gold fingernails digging deeper and deeper a

And I loved her. Wanted her. I couldn’t see myself without her and that thought used to frighten me, because should you feel this deeply about someone?

But I felt that way. It no longer scared me about how much I cared. That I do anything for her. That I breathed for her. Her touch...her words...her. I just wanted her.

She called my name, her pants deeper...huskier. She wrapped her legs around me, nearly screaming. “f*ck me like that, Rick. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop…” she begged.

I raised myself and looked down at her. At her bouncing titt*es. At her sensual smile of lust and pain. Pleasure and need. I bent my head low to kiss her hardened nipples, tasting her creamy flesh and I realized like I had before.

She was the one. The only one. The one for me.

“Ooohhhh, Rick. Oh, baby,” she moaned. Gasping...pulling me down on top of her and clinging. Just clinging and moaning. And I joined her. There in the clouds over the city. Pounding deep inside until I saw nothing but white lights and Michonne.

“Cum for me, Chonne. Cum for me…” I begged. My lips touching hers just barely. Her hands ran through my hair, pulling the coils strands harder and harder. I felt her legs tighten even more...felt her quiver...felt her body trembling underneath me. She tried to speak; to form some syllable of a word, but she was speechless.

“Yeahhhh...I feel you, baby. Let it go,” I whispered, and she cried out. Her hands pulling my hair harder and harder, and I felt my release pumping inside of her, our warm liquids of desire mixing with one another.

She couldn’t stop shaking and I couldn’t stop cumming. It felt like an eternity...us drifting there in those clouds. Me loving her to no end, her being with me forever. If that’s how long it had to be, it would be that long.

Michonne was mine.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke up with a painful, throbbing headache and light beaming in my eyes. I faintly remember us making it to this room and looked around it. The floor to ceiling drapes were drawn open, and I briefly remembered Michonne and I being over there. It was all starting to come back to me, and I smiled at the elicit memory.

My phone abruptly vibrated, and I let it. I had no desire to get it. After a few moments of silence, it vibrated again and I grabbed it, trying not to wake Michonne, but by the time I tried to answer it, my phone died.

I looked over at Michonne, who lay on her stomach...her body sprawled all over. I noticed her phone charging on her nightstand and realized she must have gotten up at some point in the night. I leaned over and moved her locs to the side. You have to tell her. A voice from nowhere beckoned in the back of my mind. The previous night came rushing back...our love...the rooftop... Alexis...Lori. All of it.

I had to use the bathroom. It had to be after noon I gathered by how high the sun sat. I got up, getting out of the bed and searched for my boxers, which were nowhere near the bed. I quickly glanced out the window, admiring the old beauty of New York City. For all the trouble I experienced here, I loved this city.

Eventually, I headed to the bathroom, glancing around, amazed at the huge ass jacuzzi tub and sparkling white tile everywhere. The room they gave her sure was nice. I ran the water at the sink, splashing the coolness of it on my face.

I stared at myself in the mirror. The obvious effects of the liquor present with the bags under my eyes, red from a long night of drinking. Then reality rushed back to me. I still had something I had to let Michonne know. “Tell her, Rick. Tell her before Lori tells her,” I urged my reflection in the mirror.

The secrets were wearing me down, and the torture became too much. “Okay. It’ll all be okay. Just tell her.” I coached myself a few more times before I opened up the door and walked out of the bathroom. Michonne was up, her phone sitting in her hand, and she held it tight.

“Morning. Um…” I took a deep breath. “I know this is really random and I hate doing this, but I have to get this off my chest. Michonne, we need to-”

“What is this, Rick? What is she talking about?” Her hand was trembling.

“Who?” My heart began to pound. It was like she knew already. The way she looked...confused and hurt. She knows, Grimes. She knows something.

“Lori. She called me and left a voicemail….and that girl she was with named Alex or Alexis. What does this mean?” She picked up her phone, the charger hanging from it, giving it all the power it needed. A recording played clear as day.

It was Lori.

Hi, I wanted to save you the heartbreak that Rick caused me. I want you to know that Rick texted me a while back asking for skimpy pictures. I, of course, sent him one not knowing you two were still an item. I sent all of the texts from that day to your phone just so you knew when it was...Michonne didn’t look at me, she just stared at her phone...shaking.

…also, a client of mine. You may or may not know Alexis, but she has admitted to me that Rick kissed her. That he told her you two had an open relationship and that you were okay with all of this. Take it from me, Michonne. I would ditch the loser. He sweet talks you, right? Says you’re beautiful. That you’re ‘the only one’. Honey...he’s using you like he used me. Rick is a playa. You ever wonder why a 25-year-old man has never been in a long-term relationship. We were an item, then he cheated on me with you. Listen, I’m going on and on, but I just want you to know...Rick’s not the man you thought he was. Sweetie, he’s not a man. Better you learn that now, before he moves on with Alex...or the next lonely girl that’s up in his apartment.”

And then it was over. Michonne looked up at me this time, tears lining her eyes, but nothing fell. She just stared at me.

“What’s she talking about, Rick? What is she saying?” Her hand shook, and she gripped the phone tighter.

“She’s lying,” I blurted out. Jesus, she knows.

“You never asked her for nude pics...you didn’t kiss Alex? Did you cheat on Lori with me?” She fired questions at me rapidly and I just looked at her.

There was that panic again. That severe anxiety. My chest tightened and I sat on the edge of the bed.

“For a body pic...but it was an accident. And the kiss with Alexis…”

She seemed confused, and I kept trying to explain. “You kissed her? You kissed that red- haired girl from the party last night? Your client?” She looked up to the ceiling and huffed, her voice straining as she spoke. “That explains it. She just kept looking at me all weird. Her and Lori. All night no matter where they were. Then I saw you two talking-”

“You saw me talking to Lori?”

Michonne darted her eyes at me. “I’m not f*cking blind, Rick. The way you were drinking. You looked like a f*cking deer in headlights. How distant you were to me when she showed up...I can’t believe you, Rick. After all I told you. How I poured my heart out to you. You’re playing me?”

“Michonne...listen...baby.”

“Don’t you call me baby. Don’t you call me anything.” Her voice was harsh...sad. She got up, pulling the sheet off the bed, covering herself. She shook like a leaf in the wind.

“Will you listen to me...nothing happened. With Lori...with Alexis. Nothing. All of it was…” I was so nervous...shaking too. My heart drifted to my throat, and I had to swallow it back down. I walked up to her and wanted to touch her, but she seemed to hate everything about me right now.

“Put your sh*t on and get out of my room.” Her teeth were clenched. I had never seen her this angry before. Never.

“Michonne. Lori is lying. She’s mixing truths with lies and she’s got you falling for it. What she says is not what really happened.”

“So, what if she isn’t lying?...you never told me. You let Lori tell me about it all. I trusted you.” Her voice broke...she was breaking, and my heart followed suit, breaking into pieces, shattering on the floor.

I held my hands up in defense. “Let me explain. Please, Michonne. I didn’t kiss that girl.” I walked up to her and tried to hug her. I needed to hug her.

“Liar.” She pushed me in the chest, and it felt like a sledgehammer hit my heart.

I’m a liar. I AM A LIAR.

“Michonne…please.” This wasn’t my voice. The voice I heard was strained and struggling to speak. My chest hurt and not from her push. My heart ache something terrible...like she ripped it out and stomped on it.

“Liar,” she said through clenched teeth. This time her hand was in a ball. She hit my chest. If she did it hard enough to bruise me, I couldn’t tell. I felt nothing but pain, because I couldn’t be honest with her at first. I wasn’t honest with her. No matter if it they were silly mistakes, I should have been honest.

“Michonne...please...just…let me,” I tried to hug her again, but she pushed me once more.

“You f*cking liar. Don’t…” Her finger shook as she held it up. “Don’t... touch me. Just…” Then the tears came. Flowing. Dripping. Her shoulders trembled and I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to fix this before it got any worse.

“...Get outtt!” She screamed. “Get the f*ck out of my room.” She walked to the bathroom door. I was desperate. I was so desperate.

“Michonne…I love you!” I yelled out. She stopped in her tracks, the sheet still wrapped around her. I saw her soul leave her body and she was just a shell of herself. I started to walk up to her, to follow her wherever she walked, because I couldn’t honor her wish. I couldn’t leave. “Please. Just listen to me. Please...don’t cry. Don’t do this. Let’s talk.”

Then her body shook, and she covered her face with her hand, her voice wavering. “I told you about John. About the lies and deceit. How fragile I was. And you let me...fall for you…you…” A wail left her, pained like an animal dying in the wild. She wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t let me near her.

“You...f*cking liar. You... get the hell out. Now...don’t explain anything. You get your sh*t...and you get the f*ck out of my life.”

“Michonne...please, baby...” My voice was a whisper. I felt like I had been kicked in the throat, and the tears that fell from my eyes burned a searing trail of pain down my cheek.

“Get outtttttttttt,” she screamed, slamming the bathroom door behind her. I followed her, trying to get in, but she locked it behind her.

“Michonne...” I jiggled the handle stupidly. When I knew she wouldn’t let me in, I put my back against the door, sliding down slowly until I sat on the floor. “Michonne...” and the tears wouldn’t stop coming. I hadn’t cried in so long... years, but this pain I felt wouldn’t let me do anything else. “I can’t lose you….I can’t lose us…”

“Just leave me alone. Go away...pleaseeee, Rick...Please just go. I don’t care about you. I don’t care about us.” I could hear her sobs...her whimpers through the door, could feel her pain. And I caused it. I caused all of this.

“Baby...please open the door...pleassseee.” I couldn’t stop crying.

“You’re a liar, Rick. You lied. You broke my heart, and you said you wouldn’t. You said you wouldn’t hurt me. You...goddddd…” She hit the door. “Get out of my life. Got out now,” she yelled.

I sat there on the floor crying for longer than I should have. “I love you, Michonne. Always will. And this is not over. We’re not over. Imma fix this.”

“You wait til now to tell me you love me. Not last night. Not last week. But when you think you can manipulate me the most. You’re just like John.”

Damn, that cut deep.

Her voiced sounded strained. "You don’t love me. You never did….” Her voice broke again, and she sobbed as she spoke. “Lori’s right. You’re using me until the next girl comes along. All that dumb sh*t you said to me. You don’t mean it. Leave, Rick. Leave...so I can be alone.”

“Michonne…please.” I stood, placing my hand against the smooth door. “It's all just a big mess, but I meant every word I ever said to you. Every last one. But if you want me gone. I’ll go. But I’m not giving up. I just can’t.”

I picked up my clothes, laboriously putting each article on and the entire time I looked at the bathroom door, waiting for her to come out. But she didn’t. I just heard her sobs. Her cries. Her wails. I waited and waited, and she just cried and cried.

I walked up to the door again, pressing my forehead against it. “I love you, Michonne” I said to the bathroom door. “And maybe I waited til the wrong time to tell you, but this isn’t over. Not yet.”

I wanted her to open that door. To come out and hear my side. To let me explain the details, because it just couldn’t end. But after 5 minutes of listening to her sobs, I did as she wanted. I left. But we weren’t over.

Not like this.

Chapter 16: Nebraska

Chapter Text

Nebraska

Instead of being cooped up in the house today, I decided to go out. I put on my black t-shirt and black jeans and grabbed the bottle of liquor that sat conveniently by my bed. Liquor happened to be my best friend right now. My best f*cking friend.

When it all happened, the day that I left the hotel room from the Lori situation, I walked like a fool aimlessly around the city for a few hours. After the events of that morning, I couldn’t bring myself to go home. I couldn’t talk to anyone. My mind went back and forth about whether or not I should try and call her...to call Michonne. Once she ignored all twenty of my calls in a row, realization struck that this was what it was...I should just give her the space that she needed.

You know that saying, ‘hindsight is 20/20’? Well, that’s exactly what feeling covered me now. Thoughts like, how could I be that stupid? How could I hide everything from her? plagued me. And honestly, I didn’t know. I wanted to think on it for hours, but was that necessary?

The last few days were spent in this crazy black hole of a place. I had never been in love with someone. I had never broken up or fought with someone I was in love with, so I didn’t rightly know what to do. I lost my best friend and that hurt more than it needed to. It hurt more than I was expecting it to.

So, what did I resort to doing? Well, I’ve isolated myself to the house. I stared at the ceiling. I tried to paint...and nothing. Tried to take pics but that went nowhere too. I cleaned. Really, I did anything to get my mind off of her. The only time I left the place was to make a trip up the corner to get a bottle of liquor...that I used faithfully to blackout.

Cause if I didn’t blackout, then I stalked her Facebook, trying to see what she’s doing. Neither one of us are up there much, but we’ve been tagged in photos together, so I’m haunted by her. It’s like that time I edited her photos from our first shoot, but more of a depressing hell to me now. I wanted to turn off my notifications, so I didn’t see them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The pictures remained out for me to stare at.

“Idiot, you two were so happy,” I mumbled, taking a swig of my vodka that I drunk straight from the bottle. She looked so beautiful in that gold dress. She was so happy. I was happy. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t make yourself miserable, Grimes.

I closed the app and put my boots on, locking my door on the way out. Oh, God it was so bright outside. The sun… you evil bitch. I grabbed my shades from my collar and immediately put them on. I decided to head to Manhattan and visit Daryl’s new place.

The entire ride over I was on a bleak cloud of despair, thinking about how I f*cked things up. I didn’t notice any of the passengers on the subway. Just thought about the many times we were on this train kissing...holding hands...me staring into her beautiful brown eyes. My head started to hurt, and I stopped picturing my past happiness. I just floated on my bleak depressing ass cloud...

...praying I didn’t smell like liquor.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I got off the subway and walked to Daryl’s, who lived on the 15th floor of a skyscraper in Manhattan. When the band started to do better locally, then their music started to expand out to Philly and Jersey, the money made it so he could get out of Brooklyn.

I knocked on the door, amazed I got my drunk ass here with no problem. He opened his front door wider, sleep still evident on his face. I whizzed by him, not thinking straight...but thinking a lot. You ever have a moment in time when you go damn, I wish I had done things differently? That was definitely all I could think about right now.

“Good f*cking day to you, too, bro,” he said rubbing his eyes. I sat down on his couch still in my head, but I needed to talk. Damn, I really f*cked up. No sh*t, Grimes.

“Sorry, Daryl. I’m just...Is Sasha here?” My fingers trembled. Why didn’t I just tell her? What was so hard about being honest? The thoughts running through my mind played on repeat as I stood and walked over to Daryl’s bar.

“No. She took Michonne out for a girl's day. What brings you all the way to Manhattan, Rick?” One mention of Michonne’s name made my heart ache, and I felt it even more because I was sobering up. Daryl walked away mussing his hair around as he searched on the couch for something. He found the pack of cigarettes he needed and walked over towards the balcony. “Come outside, man.”

“Got any vodka?” I asked perusing his bar. He always had the top shelf stuff. Daryl paused in his tracks.

“You okay, bro? Is Rick Grimes drinking during the day?”

“Yeah. Just going through a lot,' I said. He just shrugged quickly and slid the balcony door to the side. I poured a shot and downed it, pouring another and then walked outside.

For the longest, Daryl smoked inside of his apartment in Brooklyn. But in this swanky bachelor pad of a place, he seemed to care about the smell of his place more. Speaking of his expensive one-bedroom apartment it was decked out in all black and grey with a black, leather sofa and chair...a black shag rug and other art of the same black, white and grey tones riddled the place. He said Lori came by to help him get the place together not too long ago.

f*cking Lori. How did I even let her screw this up? Grimes...don’t blame her. You, and only you, f*cked this up.

But she had a hand it, I thought as I walked outside and sat in one of Daryl’s upholstered grey patio chairs. The small balcony could fit about two to three people. Daryl leaned against the railing; the small wind that blew by ruffled his hair even more. Lori did call me several times in the last few days, and I ignored every single one of them. I wouldn’t talk to her right now if you paid me millions of dollars.

“Why do you have me up this early in the day...on a Wednesday, Rick?” He lit his cigarette and gave it a quick pull.

“It’s way past noon....”

“I don’t care. Do I come to Your studio waking you up?”

I raised my eyebrow. “You always come at like eight o’clock in the morning after a huge party or performance.”

“You got me there,” he said pulling on a cigarette. “What’s going on with you? Been missing in action for a few days. Surprised you not out shooting with all the offers you’ve probably gotten.”

Calls came from left and right from interested people wanting a photoshoot. I tried my best to sober up to talk to most of them, but I was just...in a mood. “Nothing. Just a little bummed.” I stared at the shot glass filled to the brim in my hand. I wanted it, but I needed to pace myself. Daryl looked out into the sea of Manhattan’s skyline.

“That’s funny. Sasha said Michonne’s a little bummed too. Said she needed to get her out of the house, before the place became a mourner's refuge.”

The shot I held came back into focus and I immediately tossed it back. “Things are...they’re just in a bad place with us right now.” I looked at the empty shot glass and realized I should have just bought the whole bottle out here.

Daryl raised an eyebrow and tapped his cigarette on the railing. “Surprised to hear that. You two been up under each other so much, you became one person. What’s that thing they do for famous couples...combine the names. Like Michonnick...or Richonne.” He grinned, thinking the later name was clever.

But I wasn’t in the mood to laugh. “I just...Jesus. Why am I a f*cking idiot?”

“What’s going on, man? Never seen you like this?” Daryl put his cigarette out and sat in the other patio chair. “You cheat on her?”

My heart sunk. Was it cheating? Was it that serious? “I didn’t tell her stuff I should have told her. Stuff with Lori...stuff with Alexis.”

“Alexis?” he looked at me in confusion.

I blew out a deep breath and covered my face with my hand. “Some client of mine. Someone who knows Lori. f*cking Lori, man. That vindictive bitch.”

“You calling Lori a bitch? Now that’s definitely not like you. What happened, bro?”

I looked up and out towards the city, thankful my sunglasses blocked out the sun. “She just...won’t let the thing we had go. She just…f*ck, man...she just ruined us. Called Michonne and told her everything. I let her ruin us.” A bitter taste covered my tongue. My damn heart just throbbed with this pain that I’d never felt before. I felt the lump in my throat choking me. That burning sensation around my eyelids. “I kissed that girl, Alexis...texted something to Lori by accident. I just...dammit, man.”

The city in my view turned to muddle, and memories of the weekend played over and over...on constant repeat. Lori’s voicemail...Michonne’s sad doe-eyed expression. All of it.

“Got caught up man. Which...I don’t understand. You could’ve just told Michonne everything. The day it or anything happened. Michonne seems like a reasonable girl.”

“She is, but I was just worried about what happened to her in the past and how’d she react— “

“And now sh*t’s worse off than before because she found out from Lori. You’re right man. You f*cked up, but this is all fixable.” Daryl sat down in the other chair next to me. “Give her sometime. Don’t panic. Don’t call your mom and tell her what happened. Just chill, and when the time is right, you two can talk. My guess is waking up to Lori’s voice was f*cked up...especially after what that dickwad named Negan did to her. And stop getting plastered in the middle of the day...that’s my job.”

And he was right. The look on her face killed me when she heard the voicemail. It just killed me. So, I just looked out over the railing to the escape, much like when I’m at my apartment, and I just…stared.

It was all I could do.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daryl had to meet up with an organizer for an event they were doing, so I called up Glenn. He met me at a bar not too far from Daryl’s place. I had to drink and the few shots I downed at Daryl’s were wearing off.

“We’re pushing the wedding back. She now thinks we should do it in October after all the fashion weeks conclude. I don't know why we didn't plan this better....”

“Sounds good, man. I’m your resident photographer. Jus call me an I’ll be free...” I said, tossing back another shot. I needed to forget about her, and nothing seemed to help. I figured a few shots of tequila would do the trick, but Glenn changed the subject...back to Michonne.

At some point on the way over my drunk self-spilled the beans about what happened between Michonne, and I. Glenn couldn't help but remind me of my f*ck up. Yeah, I know. Daryl told me to keep things to myself, but liquor has this way of making you the most honest person in the world.

“Why didn’t you just tell her, man?” Glenn said while we stood at the bar. I shook my head, all of my feelings spilling out of me like a gutted whale.

“Cause I’m stu...stupid...that’s why. I had uh...uh great girl and I ruined it.” Pointing violently into the bar counter, I realized how hammered the liquor got me.

“You’re hammered man.”

I sheepishly grinned. “I know.”

“You should’ve just told her everything. Even the sh*t you think wouldn’t get you in trouble. All of it.” That sentiment seemed to be the running theme from both of my friends.

“Lemme guess...that’s wat you do wit Mag-gie? That’s what Daryl said...mister love dem for a night and leave dem in the mo-mornin..” I stumbled out. Glenn nodded his head.

“I hate to admit this, cause it’s a rarity, but Daryl’s right. I tell Maggie everything and more. I tell her way more than I should. Trust is important. Really important. If you don’t have any trust, how can you have anything. Plus, I’m a terrible liar. Just the worst,” he admitted. Glenn was a terrible liar. He’d sweat and get nervous as hell. Maggie always knew he was lying from how he acted.

I mean I heard him and Daryl, but I wanted to get even more plastered. Drinking seemed to solve all of my problems right now. I drunkenly waved to get the bartender's attention, but I felt Glenn push my hand down.

“Woooahh. That’s enough buddy. You’ve reached your limit.” He was right. Absolute right.

I knew full well that I should stop, but I shook my head. “Nah...lemme get one more.” I waved my hand and shouted for the bartender. I don’t even know what was going on, but the dim lights affected my sight and had me knocking bottles everywhere. Well...maybe I was f*cked up. Somehow, I accidentally hit this guy who quickly turned around. Beer spilled onto him and the guy sitting next to him.

“‘Scuse you, fella. Youse seen me standing here? Right?” The guy sounded like he was definitely from New Jersey or Philly and seen every mobster movie known to man. He wore some plain blue jeans and blue shirt with a shark on it. A thin gold chain dangled around his neck. He was calm, but his bigger friend in the paperboy hat seemed agitated.

“My bad...my bad...my apologies. I’ll buy your next round.” That should fix it, Grimes.

“You’re apologies. Tony, this guy?” He pointed to his buddy who laughed.

“Hey, Dave?...Seems like he can’t handle his liquor there, huh?” The bigger guy said.

"Don’t seem like it at all. But he’s buying us another round. Can’t be too bad, know watta mean?”

"Ion know. Maybe he needs to get outta here. Maybe youse need to take Opie back to Nebraska.” The guy I bumped into said to Glenn.

“Maybe he should, appears like y’all are taking up a lotta space,” I told him, feeling a lot braver than usual. “Maybe y’all need to chill out a bit. I apologized to y’all.”

The bigger guy, Tony, wearing a white shirt that barely covered his stomach, didn’t seem like he liked my response. “f*ck this dude, you apologized...hmpf. Your ass should watch wat youse doing.”

Glenn came to my defense. “Give him a break guys. He’s going through a lot.”

“Thanks for the memo. Wats he...your boyfriend?” Dave said, snickering hysterically. I grinned, but in a f*ck you, you bastard way.

“Maybe you two should just get the hell out of here. I apologized. Not going to do it again.” I said motioning for the bartender. I really needed that drink now.

Dave laughed, astounded. “Youse the one causing all the problems but we should go. And where exactly do we need to go?”

This would probably piss him off even more, but…”I hear Nebraska’s nice,” I said, repeating where they assumed I was from.

The guy chuckled, grabbing his chain and tucking it in his shirt, then looked back at his friend who only offered a “f*ck youse,” to me.

I thought it was clever what I said, but apparently not so much. The guy, Dave, tried to clock me, but I backed up before his punch could land. I stood my ground, waiting for the next hit, and took it right over my left eye, which immediately felt like I’d been stung a little by a bee. I wasted no time swinging back, aimlessly throwing punches. One landed on Dave, and then he stumbled. That’s when I saw my chance to get Tony, who fell after I hit him once. Then, I just kept hitting Dave until he fell on the floor.

“Rick! What the f*ck, man!” Glenn yelled trying to get me to stop attacking him. I was just so full of rage that I couldn’t stop swinging, almost hitting him in the process.

“f*ck these guys, Glenn!” That’s when the bartender came over with her cell phone in hand.

“That’s it! All of you! There’s no fighting in here. I’m calling the cops,” she said putting the phone to her ear. Glenn grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the bar, so we wouldn’t have to be here when the cops arrived. But that didn't stop me. It wasn’t until someone else sitting at the bar helped Glenn drag me to the door.

“Rick, come on man let’s go,” Glenn prompted. I felt invincible in that moment. Like nothing or no one could stop me. Not even Dave and Tony from Philly. The liquor definitely had that effect on me.

Glenn and another guest somehow got me outside the bar and Glenn hailed the first cab he saw coming down the street. “I’m taking you back to Daryl’s man. You are way f*cked up and can’t be around other people right now.”

“I’m good man...I’m go…” I said when I sat back in the car. The seats felt so comfortable, like I was floating on air. Sweat seeped from my pores and I felt drunker than I had been all week.

“He throws up in my car, that’s an extra $30.00,” the driver said anticipating the mess I might make. Glenn assured him that I was fine and that we weren’t going that far.

“I hear Nebraska’s nice...hmpf.” I laughed repeating what the douche said earlier. I put my head back and closed my eyes.

I bet it is.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Rick?” I felt my shoulder being shook. “Rick?” Daryl said again.

“UP! I...up.” I couldn’t get my ass up. I felt the drool leaving the sides of my mouth and didn’t care. I turned the other way and tried to go back to sleep. Somehow, I ended up on Daryl’s couch and faintly remember him and Glenn talking.

“Are you crashing here, bro? You can, you just can’t be all out on the couch like this. This leather cost me a lot of money and you're ruining my sh*t with the slobber. Go to my room.” Daryl tried to help me sit up, but I was through.

“Ca I...could…can I sta…” I tried to talk, but it wasn’t happening at the moment.

“Yeah, man. Come on. There you go. You got it buddy. Glenn said you were f*cked up, but jeez,” he said in this ‘hey man, your drunk as sh*t, and I have to treat you like a child now,’ voice.

“I g-g-got..got...got…” I tried to stand but the room immediately spun in circles and knocked me on my ass. That’s when Daryl tossed my arm over his shoulder to get me up.

“I know sh*ts bad right now. It’s the only reason I’m not saying much. But don’t…” We made it to his room, and I flopped face down onto the bed.

“I didn...she jus...means...I need...her.” I mumbled through the blanket, nearly in tears.

“I know, bro. I know.”

“I jus…”

“It’s alright. Just chill out and get some rest.”

“Mich…”

“I know, man… I get it…”

That was the last thing I remember.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and needing to pee. Throwing up seemed like a strong possibility as well. I stumbled a bit in the dark trying to get to the bathroom, but somehow, I made it, searching for the light switch. The light blinded me, and I squinted.

I washed my hands when I finished relieving myself and looked in the mirror once my eyes tried desperately to adjust to the light. You look like death, Grimes. I did. My eyes were bloodshot. A reddish blue bruise sat around my left eye. Tomorrow it would look pretty bad. A scruffy beard grew all over in no distinct fashion. I didn’t mind it though, but still, I looked pretty awful.

I felt the liquor want to come back up and so I stayed by the toilet for a while. A few dry heaves later and nothing happened, so I literally crawled back to the guest bedroom on my knees. My phone on the bed moved as a slid back under the covers. I needed to talk to her. I grabbed my phone and contemplated texting her. Went back and forth with it for a long time. The bright screen killed my eyes, but I wanted to talk to her.

Me: I miss you

…I started to type but then erased it.

Me: can we talk??

I typed, but couldn’t send it. I felt almost like a stalker and just nixed the text idea altogether. If I wanted to talk to Michonne I’d have to wait. But the scary part was…

I had no clue know how long.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vibrating. It was all I f*cking heard. I fumbled for my phone on the bed and hit the button to silence it. That gave me relief for all of five minutes before the vibrating happened again. I opened one eye and saw it was Melissa calling. I’ve been ignoring all her calls. I had to answer.

“Hello,” I said not recognizing my own groggy voice.

“Hey, Rick. Called all weekend to hear about your event and nothing. I had to go on your Facebook page just to g t any info at all. Thought you’d gone back to ignoring my calls. I see that you have,” Melissa said. I shook my head, half my face laying on the pillow. I rested my phone against my cheek on the uncovered side.

“I got real messed up over the weekend and passed out. Way too much partying.” Okay...I lied. Definitely a lame excuse, but much better to say that to Melissa instead of telling her I f*cked up everything with Michonne.

Man...I f*cked up everything with Michonne.

“Well, mom and I both been callin’ your ass. We were worried things didn’t go as you hoped with the cover. How did it go? Your page on the book had so many comments on them. And then I went to Michonne’s page. Jeez Louise, Rick. I saw some photos of you two...looked like some real celebrities. Not that you're not semi-known, but like a real one. I can’t wait to meet her….”

She went on and on and I felt the biggest lump in my throat that almost had me choking again. Damn these hurts.

I cleared my throat as best I could before I spoke again. “Yeah, I felt like one that night.”

“Well, is Michonne near you? I want to tell her how beautiful she looked and…”

“No, she’s not here…”

Melissa let out a sigh, “Dang. I ain’t spoke to your girlfriend yet. I really hope she makes it for Thanksgiving.”

“Me too, Melissa.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t hear about Michonne and Thanksgiving. Not right now. “I gotta go, Melissa. Kiss the kids for me.”

“I will. You better call mom. If she knows you answered for me and not her-”

“Okay...okay. I’m about to call her now.”

“You don’t sound like yourself. Sound real sad brother. Everything alright?”

I felt like hell. “Not really.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head, reluctant to spill out to my sister the details of this weekend...or the past few days. "Not really.”

Melissa could tell by my tone something was wrong, but she didn't pry. “Okay...well, call mom for me and answer your phone when she calls from now on.”

"Okay. Talk to you later.” I quickly hung up. I didn’t want to cry on the phone with my sister. I waited about ten minutes before I called my mom. She didn’t answer which relieved me to no end because I was hungover. For a few moments I buried my face in the pillow and tried to recover from my alcoholic state. Eventually, I sat my phone on the nightstand and successfully stood up on the first try. When I made my way to the living room, I could hear Daryl’s voice.

“Yeah, he’s still knocked out. Wait...wait...he’s up.” He turned away and faintly said, “Let me call you later. Yeah, Sash. Okay...yeah. See you later...okay. Bye.”

“Good morning,” I mumbled when he got off the phone.

“Afternoon, bro...it’s nearly two…”

“I’ve been asleep that long?” My head hurt. It felt like someone kicked me all night in my forehead.

“Yeah, man.” Daryl pointed to my face. “Nice shiner.

Rightttt. That’s why my face hurt. I touched it, wincing, and just nodded.

“You want some coffee?” he asked.

I rubbed my cheek. “Yeah. Lots of it.” For such dark decorations he sure got a lot of light in his apartment. My eyes were killing me. “I need my shades.”

“Suffer through the hangover...builds character.” Daryl simply said. I scoffed.

“Does it?”

“Any artist knows that the more you suffer the better you create. Suffering changes you for better or worse. Right now...it’s the worse for you. It’ll get better.”

“You think so?”

Daryl came by and slapped my shoulder. “When you’re at the very bottom, all you can do is go up.”

I nodded. “Maybe.” Or keep floating until you drown your actions in a bottle of top shelf vodka.

“We’re going to chop it up at the studio later. You wanna come?”

I could stay here and get drunk or go home. Neither option seemed like a good decision right now. I shouldn't be alone. "What else I got to do?”

“Not much...just brood and get drunk, and you are succeeding at that my brother.” He hit my shoulder again and walked off. I could only smirk because he was right.

I could brood anywhere.

Chapter 17: The Chain

Chapter Text

The Chain

The ride over to Brooklyn killed me. I know I said I was going to come to the studio with Daryl, but the noises, the smells...every f*cking thing got to me. This city was not forgiving when it came to trying to get over a hangover. The piss stench alone stuck out to me the most. Right now, Daryl and I stood outside. I looked like hell and Daryl appeared all cool like he usually does. His hair managed to be messy, but in the coolest way. I didn’t envy Daryl, because I firmly believe we are own person, but he sure was a cool f*cker.

“You gonna start putting that hair up into a ponytail?” I asked joking around with him. Daryl shook his head and laughed.

“Nah, man. Not my style. Not into the man-bun.”

“You should try it. I think you could pull it off.” Daryl looked at me slightly annoyed. He valued his hair way too much to put it up in some messy bun.

“I’m good man. Never got any complaints about it now, so I’m keeping this way until I do.” The cherry on the tip of his cigarette lit up as he pulled on it. Oh...we found a lady drummer. Tom just wasn’t working out. He said the direction we were taking wasn’t in line with his or whatever. Just to switch things up some she’s a singer, too. Her names Arat. Cool looking chick with blonde hair and tattoos. Her voice is...you’ll be blown away.” Daryl said. We leaned against the building while he smoked a cigarette.

My eyes still hurt, and the shades provided much need relief. I only wish I had ear plugs now. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she’ll be here today. Sasha’s coming by later, too. We are supposed to go to some club after this. You wanna come?”

What about Michonne?

I grinned, shaking my head. “Nah...I think I need to chill out on clubs and bars for a while.”

“I agree. Can’t mess up that pretty boy face anymore.” Daryl put his cigarette out and lightly hit my chest. “I don’t lecture man. That aint never been my style. But...just take some time and get your head right. Your sh*ts bad, but it ain’t the worse. You got me?”

Daryl words are few and he only talks a lot when he makes a point. I just had to listen to this point. “I gotcha man. I’m going to chill and relax.”

“Good. You could have gotten arrested yesterday, and you don’t need that. Not when you're the best photographer in all five boroughs. Come on,” he said hitting my chest again. “...let’s head upstairs.”

The studio usually had a lot of people hanging out there. Today, just the band sat around going over lyrics to a new song they just penned. I saw the girl Daryl talked about earlier. Her hair was cut short, and her roots were black with blonde tips. She definitely gave off a rocker type chick vibe, wearing a chain-link vest and ripped up black jeans. Her fingerless gloved hands were frayed at the bottom, and she had drum sticks in her hand, pounding out random rhythms.

“What's up? Names Arat.” She held out her gloved hand for me to shake. Her heavy boots pounded against the carpeted floor.

“I’m Rick.”

“What’s up, Rick. Nice shiner man. I got into a fight with a chick not too long ago. Said I tried to take her girl, which I did, but the girl never told me she was involved. Anyway, I wore an eye-patch, instead of glasses to cover up the bruise. Much cooler.” Apparently, my bruised eye could be seen even with the glasses on.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Chicks dig it man. I had all the ladies on me. Good conversation starter,” she said, and I simply agreed. I wasn’t looking to meet new girls and strike up conversations. Only one woman existed for me.

“Rick...buddy. You're not really looking like yourself. Having a rough go at things right now?” Jesus said when he approached me. He gave me a quick hug.

“Things are not going like I want.” That’s the understatement of the year.

“Life be like that sometimes. What we want the most, is the hardest to get…or the hardest to keep," he said in that philosophical tone of his.

“Yeahhh...you could say that again.”

“It’d be cliche if I did. You want a beer?” Jesus asked, walking over to a cooler. I know I shouldn’t drink, but it seemed like some beer wouldn’t hurt me too bad.

“Sure.” He dug in the cooler until he found a Corona, handing it to me.

“I know you’re not much of a drinker.”

Wanna bet? “I’ve been getting better at it these past few days.”

“Not something you want to be good at. Just something you want to enjoy...in moderation of course.” He took a joint out and lit it.

“I wrote a song about Love. Probably one of the hardest songs I’ve written in my life.”

“Why?” I really wanted to know why it was so hard to write.

“Love is a crazy thing...” Jesus said puffing on his joint. “...and we are crazy people. It’s hard to encapsulate that into lyrics.” He offered me a hit, but I turned it down. The beer did the job just fine for me, which I almost finished. I didn’t know how Daryl thought I would avoid drinking with the various bottles and cans of beer in the coolers located around the room. I guess beer would have to do.

“We are crazy people,” I repeated mostly to myself. Any perceptive person could see that I had a lot on my mind...Jesus especially. Daryl said Jesus could be keenly perceptive.

“The price we pay for love is a heavy one. The feelings we get. The emotions. Love is joy, but man is it pain.”

Jesus had a way of talking about things relevant to your life, even if he didn’t know what even went on in your day to day. I called it The Church Effect . I used to go to church every Sunday and not all the time, but sometimes a sermon from the pastor, Mrs. Deanna, would bring tears to my eyes. It felt like she singled me out in a lot of her sermons that dealt with my dad and my decision to leave. The decision happened to be the hardest thing in my life, and I went back and forth about why I should do it or not.

I’d sit in the pew beside my sister, bored out of my mind. Yet, on some Sundays it always seemed like the pastor looked right at me when she preached. As if the words were just for me. One sermon in particular led me to the final decision to come here to New York. It always sticks out in my mind.

Today we're gonna focus on Romans chapter 8 versus’ 18-28. “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” Now what does that mean. Well, I think it means that there’s no real comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. We want happiness right now, and when its now there we groan...we complain. But how can we find happiness? Do we seek it within ourselves, or elsewhere? Where can we turn our misery into elation? These questions have answers. Believe me when I tell you, that they do.

And I’ll tell you this my good people. That pain. That pain deep down in your mind and your heart. It won’t last forever. It can’t. Because God knows us far better than we know ourselves. He knows what lies beneath the surface. Once again, that pain deep down inside. It won't last forever. It can’t cause He favors us, and there is a plan. Even if we don’t see it now.

Now, I am in no way very religious right now. I know the last time I went to church happened while I was on break from college sometime during Christmas years ago. The last time I picked up a Bible, well, I couldn’t remember that right off hand. And even though I knew that pain didn’t last forever, the pain I had from my father not accepting my career path stuck with me, but not for long. Yeah, pain doesn’t last forever. But it lasted for a good little while.

For a good f*cking while.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hey ma.” She called while everyone talked around me, and I felt it a good time to escape. I stepped into the hallway and walked towards the corner.

“I’ve got to tell the town ya takin’ my calls. I’ve heard about the celebrity treatment. Don’t know if I should be flattered or not that ya willfully ignoring me,” she said in that southern belle disapproving voice she’s nailed.

“I’m sorry ma. Things have just been kind of hectic.”

“I see that. Melissa showed me your Face thingy on her phone. I could see that you’d probably be off her setting the world now that you and miss Michonne have made quite the name for yourselves.”

“Uhhhh. Not really. I’ve had a few calls. I think she has too.” Really, I had no idea if she had. I didn’t doubt it, though.

“Well, I won’t keep you long. Just checking on you. I’m taking Mrs. Mable to see a movie in a few and thought I’d try and catch you.”

“Okay Ma, I love you.”

“I love you too, superstar. Stop ignoring me before I put ya over my lap and spank ya. Ya not too old to get one you know.”

“I know ma. I know. I promise. I’ll answer.”

“Good. Well, bye son.” I started to hang up my phone when I saw Lori calling. I looked at the screen for a few seconds then pushed the ignore button.

f*ck her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I felt drunk enough now. Drunk enough to stomach sitting here without looking like I lost everything in my life, or maybe I still did. I couldn’t tell. Daryl said Sasha would be here soon and I instantly felt a knot in my stomach, hoping I’d see Michonne, but I knew she wouldn’t be here. What reason would she have to come?

“Alright. Enough with the drinking and smoking. I’m ready to hit the skins.” Arat said, standing up. She expertly twirled her drum sticks in either hand before she started to drum on the wall. The rest of the band agreed, following her into the recording booth.

Daryl lagged behind, hitting my leg hard. “You okay?”

I blew out an exasperated breath. “Yeahhhhh, I reckon I’m just fine,” I mumbled. Daryl held his hands into fists and pretended to punch me. I ducked, avoiding any of the playful punches.

“Ok. Mike Tyson. Not gonna fight anyone if I leave you alone, are ya bro?” He kept throwing soft punches, some of which hit my chest. I protected my beer from spilling all over me.

“Nah, I think no one here wants to beat me up as bad as I want to beat me up.”

Just then Sasha walked into the studio with the biggest smile on her face. Her hair flew out freely like it normally did and she had on a Fugees T-shirt with red shorts.

“Don’t be too sure, bro.” He looked at his girl then back at me, punching my face lightly as he left to go meet Sasha. I panicked briefly because I had a feeling once Daryl went to practice in the actual studio, Sasha would come and beat me up for real. Honestly, I just knew her, Rosita, and Tara would just open up a can of whoop ass on the subway when I least expected it. I didn’t doubt it for a second.

Sasha did see me and rolled her eyes. Well, that f*cking stung, Grimes. For some odd reason it did. Others approval of myself meant a lot and I knew I wasn’t the ‘man in shining honor’ at the moment. It sucked a lot, because I used to think I was a good guy.

I rested my head against the back of the couch and looked up. I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve just gone to my place and drowned in a bottle of cheap vodka. Then get on Facebook, and look at Michonne, then drink until I passed out. That seemed like the better alternative than sitting here, feeling like the odd man out.

I got up and started to tell Daryl goodbye. I couldn’t sit here anymore. I threw the beer bottle away and patted my pants to see if I had my keys. Thankfully, I did. I’d hate to have to go all the way back to Manhattan to get them when my apartment was twenty minutes away by cab. Just as I tried to get Daryl’s attention, and avoid Sasha altogether, that’s when I lost my breath. A cold sweat hit my forehead and I knew my legs started to feel like mush. Michonne walked into the studio, standing there like the beautiful woman she was, and I couldn’t move my legs from where they were.

She started to walk towards me, and I panicked. I put my hands in my pocket and just stood there in place like the dummy I was.

Say something idiot. You called her nonstop and can't even say anything. "Hey .” That happened to be the best thing my mind could come up with.

“Hey.” God. I missed her soft, pretty voice. Just so perfect.

“How have you been?” She asked.

“I’ve been good. I’ve...been good. Just needed...to clear my head. Looks like it's been a rough few days for you. You’ve been fighting, huh?”

When she noticed my bruised eye, I felt ashamed for the first time. “Yeahhh...just some craziness at a bar. You should see the other guys.” I said trying to sound cool. She nodded briefly and looked around like she was uncomfortable. I wish she wasn’t...she didn’t have to be around me.

Cause damn it, I missed her. I’ve been missing her, but seeing her beautiful face right now made the realization of that fact more prominent.

“Why are you here?” That sounded bad. “I mean, I didn’t think you’d be here. I mean...it’s good to see you.” Way to fix it, Grimes.

“You’ve been drinking...a lot?” Michonne said. She must have noticed my slurred speech and overall drunk appearance. I probably smelled like a case of Corona.

I shook my head as if sober. “No...no I’m good.” I’d have to be good right now.

She offered me a small smile that made my heart burst into several thousand pieces. “You wanna go outside? I feel like we should talk.”

Here’s your chance to make everything right, Grimes. Just apologize and make it right.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” I tried to take her hand but she didn’t let me. The sting of her rejection hurt like hell but I understood it; it still wasn’t the time. I walked behind her, taking her in again. Her soft locs swung side to side and she had on some ripped up jeans and a black tank top. Black, silver studded biker boots completed the look. I smiled thinking about her style. The way she dressed and her confidence...it’s what drew me to her those few months ago.

We stood in the hallway not that far from one another. “Um. I gotta confess. I knew you might be here. Sasha ran it past me, so here I am. I debated for a while about whether or not I wanted to come because the last thing I need is some scene—“

“There won’t be a scene. I’m—“

“Just let me talk.” She cleared her throat and I could hear the band start to play random chords in the back. They were about to start jamming. “I thought for a few days about everything. About us and what happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Michonne. I—“

She giggled. Even as she stood here still pissed, she giggled, and my heart melted. “I said let me talk.” She blew out a breath and leaned on the opposite wall across from me. “We rushed into this...relationship. As much as I hate to admit it, I knew for those lasting weeks of happiness that you were the one. That this magical fairytale finally happened for me and that I met my prince charming. But things hit me in the face, and I was vulnerable when it did. I let my guard down and assumed you weren’t like the rest. That hurt me the most. The message. The...everything.”

I started to panic again. The music from the band started to play and I knew the f*cking song...Fleetwood Mac's “The Chain” . I could hear Arat’s and Jesus’s folksy voice through the walls, as a syncopated drum beat played.

Listen to the wind blow...
Watch the sun rise!
Run in the shadows...

Damn your love, damn your lies!

“I’m not like the rest Michonne. I f*cked up, and should have been straight...you’re right and —“

She shook her head; her voice broke a little. She blew out the biggest breath like what she was about to say would be hard. “Carol has booked me for a cover and another shoot. She wants me to go down to Miami, and then to L.A., maybe even London or Paris after that for some spreads. She said anything is possible with someone like me. She’s already thinking about all the fashion weeks in September/early October and wants me there sitting front row with her. I hired that lawyer lady, Andrea, to see me through the legalities of everything.”

And my f*cking heart dropped out my chest. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t. “What about school and the kids at the center and…I was supposed to be your photographer...what about...” Us? What about us? I was supposed to be there with her through all of this. Me. Not Carol...not this f*cking Andrea person. I was supposed to shoot her for everything and travel with her. Me.

She couldn’t look at me and I couldn’t blame her. I really couldn’t. “I talked to the kids, and they said I should follow my dreams. That I always tell them the world is theirs if they follow their dreams, so why don’t I take my own advice.” Michonne smiled as she started to tear up. “I think the 13-year-olds are right." She paused, the said, "And school can wait,” she continued. “I’m thinking of just taking a semester off. The profession of Art isn’t dying, so I can always go back to school.” She couldn’t look at me, just down at her feet as she kicked at the carpet on the hallway floor. She looked like an innocent little kid afraid to tell me what was going on. “I spoke to my mom, too. She always felt I rushed things with you and just knew I’d be in this situation again. She’s just glad I didn’t fall too deep.”

“I fell deep for you. I’m still falling. I'm still falling deep down with you.”

Damn your love, damn your liesssssss!

“I'm leaving for Miami in two weeks. I know you probably won’t need the work. So many people have been talking about you, but I suggested you for the center if you wanted to take my spot. If not, I know they’ll find someone to take my place eventually,” she said ignoring what I mentioned entirely. That hurt me to no end.

“Michonne. Can we talk about what happened? Can I explain?—“

She held up her hand and shook her head. “Do you need to? Do we need to? I overreacted. I know that. But you said you’d be straight. That you weren’t like John. You said you were not like him, and that you were glad he messed up. You were so wrong. Just so wrong. I guess the night we had after the party and then to wake up to Lori’s voice...it...we...that was a lot on someone who was already shaky in the trust department. I need to heal. I didn’t let my heart heal and expected it to heal from you. I put a lot on you making me trust in love again, when I should have taken some time to myself. I just need to get the hell out of this city for a while.”

Michonne walked over to me and smoothed my beard, which started to become unkempt. “I should shave, huh?”

She slowly shook her head. “That’s up to you.” When she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed the side of my face where her hand just rubbed, I immediately felt safe. Like this is what my body had been missing. Her touch. This touch. This feeling.

“It’s not over for me. This is just a break. We’re not done.” I whispered, hugging her tighter and tighter. For a moment we just stood there, me on the verge of tears, just smelling her and rubbing her back. God...I didn’t want this.

“I never said we were over. Time is the only thing that can tell us that. Only Time and nothing else. Right now, it’s not our time.” She kissed my cheek, and I hugged her as tight as I could again, wanting her imprint on me. Her smell. I couldn’t let her go.

Don’t let her go.

But Michonne managed to leave my clutching arms and gave me another weak smile. “I’ll see you around. We’re still cool and I’m not mad. I just need some time alone in the world loving myself.”

I heard her and respected what she wanted. But it’s not what I wanted. “I’m gonna get you back. Whatever I have to do. I will.”

“Only Time will tell,” she repeated again. “I have to go,” she said walking down the hallway. She pulled her phone out, I assumed to call Sasha. I stood there like a fool once more, hearing the words to the song starting to echo into the hall and my head started to hurt. My heart, too.

And if you don't love me now
(You don't love me now)
You will never love me again

I can still hear you saying
We would never break the chain

(Never break the chain)

And if you don’t love me now

Your will never love me again

I can still hear you saying

(ooooooooOOOO)

We will never break the chain

(Never break the chain)

And just like that, she was gone.

Chapter 18: The Sweetest Dream Would Never Do

Chapter Text

The Sweetest Dream Would Never Do

“The wedding is October 20th. Three weeks from today.” Glenn said. We were hitting it hard at the gym on the treadmill. I know, right ? Me... at the gym. That was like Daryl giving up smoking, but I needed to get negative thoughts out of my mind. The need to get myself back in order overwhelmed me these past few months—ever since Michonne left.

At first when she left, we spoke a few times a week. And even then, the conversations became shorter and less involved. Then they went to nothing. Didn't speak for the whole month of August. New York fashion week came and she was back in the states, but apparently Carol needed her at every show to introduce her to designers. I haven’t seen Michonne in the longest. Not Since the day in June back at the studio.

“How’s Maggie doing? Haven’t seen her in two weeks or so.” I said breathing pretty hard.

Glenn expertly took his strides on the treadmill next to me.“She’s good. Still working and planning everything. She’s also in Paris right now with Carol for the city’s fashion week. I don’t know how she’s able to do what she does. I’d be dying right now if I got the amount of sleep she gets.”

“Maggie’s a beast and a workaholic. It’s how she gets things done.” Honestly, Maggie always impressed me with her work ethic.

Glenn gave a little grin. “Right? She just tells me what to do and I do it. My mom used to say, happy wife, happy life. I’m just going to stick to that rule.” His voice bounced as he took his stride.

“My mother says that to my dad all the time. She seems pretty happy...most of the time.” Faint memories of my childhood flashed by.

“How’s things going with you, man? You been doing better?”

“If you’re talking about the slight drinking binge, I was on for a while, I managed to get over that. Waking up every day and drinking my life away and then hitting the repeat button wasn’t doing it for me.”

“Good. You had us all worried there for minute.” Glenn became quiet for a while, and when I glanced at him, he seemed like he debated some thought in his mind.

I tried to match Glenn’s pace. “What’s up?”

“Um...you know we sent everyone a R.S.V.P. to the wedding when she finally decided on the date a month ago?”

“Yeah. It’s a customary thing to do if you want to know who’s coming.”

“Well...I know you’re our personal photographer for the big day and I wanted to give you a heads up. A few woman from your past may be in attendance. Honestly, man, you were on such a downward spiral I didn’t know if you were still committed to coming to this thing. You haven’t been doing any shoots that I know of and just been like a hermit.”

I knew he spoke of Lori and Michonne. The former I hadn’t spoken to since that day at the jam session. Michonne, like I said, it’s been a while since we spoke. She was staying in Italy the last time I checked.

Glenn saw that I was in another time period and interrupted my thoughts. “Maggie...she just doesn’t want any drama. None, in fact, and she needs you there and it would be rude to rescind the invitations so…”

“Don’t worry Glenn. Lori and I aren’t the best of friends, but I’m sure she would never make a public spectacle.” Maybe. “And I’m not so sure Michonne’s gonna be there.” I didn’t want to tell him why I thought that, but, I’ve been following her Twitter account. She opened one not too long ago and apparently she’d be in Tokyo that weekend, living her best life. “I’m just there to take pictures, Glenn. That’s it. No drama. No distractions.”

Glenn wiped the accumulating sweat from his forehead, a mix from the workout and relief on my admission. “Great. Good. Just...thanks, man.” He slowed the pace of his machine and I followed suit, so we could cool our bodies down.

“I gotta get in contact with Cherokee Rose… They’ve become so much harder to track down since things started to blow up for them. Maggie and I finally decided on our ‘first dance’ song and she really needs to get in touch with their manager...who hasn’t answered any of our calls.”

“Eugene is...a funny dude. The mullet alone makes me chuckle sometimes, but he feels the need to control a lot of the daily aspects of the band.” Eugene Porter could only be described as the type of guy who wanted everyone to know he was in charge and ran the show. Somehow I felt in his past he lacked a lot of control. Who doesn’t? The band hired him a few weeks ago and he’s made booking them for anything a round of circus hoops to get through.

“I don’t know why you deal with Eugene. Why not just call Daryl?”

“Eugene wants everything to go through him first. It’s just his thing, but I’m having dinner with Daryl and Sasha tomorrow, so I’m about to bypass his ass.” Glenn laughed and turned off his machine. “I gotta get going man. You heading out with me?”

“Nah. I’m gonna hit the weights a little and then go for a jog on the streets. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Alright. Give me a call if you need to. I’m not too famous for you, Rick. Just a normal guy living in Brooklyn.”

His comment made me grin. “You and me both.” When he left, I grabbed my earbuds and turned to a good workout song. I wish things were in a different place for me, but I kind of just lost my touch as far as photography went. Much like Glenn, I only wanted to be a normal guy...drama free…

Living in Brooklyn.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The weather started to break, and the cool wind felt good against my skin. I liked to jog around the city. I used to look at all the other people who did it and wondered why they wanted to spend their day running around, when there was so much stuff they could be doing. But now I see why. I enjoyed going places I normally didn't because of taking the Subway or a cab. I finally started to explore the city I lived in for most of my adult life. I bought a record player and got some cool records from around the corner. I developed an interest in eating healthy—well as healthy as I could stomach and bought fresh foods. I also liked to read newspapers on Sundays like my grandpa. I liked trying things that seemed ageist to me, or not with the times.

Like newsstands. I never really saw the advantage of them. You got the worlds news and entertainment literally at the fingertips of your phone. But the idea of standing in one spot looking over several newspapers and Magazines until the ones you sought screamed at you thrilled me now. I got why my grandpa liked going to the store everyday.

There was this newsstand not that far from my studio. A cool guy named Morgan worked there round, stool near the stand and I’d chat with him. Morgan, who knew the name of every publication and when it came out, became my neighborhood friend somewhat. I mean, I visited that damn newsstand every chance I got.

“Hey there, Rick.”

“Hey, Morgan.” I picked up the days newspaper and stuck it under my arm.

“How’s it hanging?”

“Oh, everything is going somewhat as planned. How’s the wife doing?”

“She’s just fine. Jenny’s just fine. My boy's doing good too. Starting to like the move up here somewhat. Hates all the unnecessary noise.”

“Tell her that she’ll eventually get used to it.”

“Oh, I have. She still hates it though.” He chuckled.

“Well, can’t blame her.” I looked over the array of magazines and nothing caught my eye. “Got anything good for me?”

“Just this one. Got some good pictures in it if you ask me. Nothing too uppity and fancy. Get to see the natural beauty of her face. I think this is one of her best shoots.”

I smiled. “Thanks Morgan.” He handed me the September Italian Vogue and my heart sped up. Morgan was right. Nothing fancy...no oversized outfits that hid her shape or pounds of makeup covering her. Just Michonne in all her natural beauty. A yellow dress billowed in the wind, and you shold be focusing on the clothing, but Michonne was all you saw.

All I saw.

“I never ask cause it ain’t something you just come out and ask someone, but…” he looked up at me with his wandering eye, a bit hesitant. “You’re not some serial killer stalker building some shrine to this poor girl. Like I said...it ain’t none of my business but--”

For the first time in a long time, I burst out laughing. His statement caught me off guard and I had to laugh about the entirety of the situation. It did seem ridiculous that I only wanted publications with Michonne on the cover or inside for a spread. “I can assure you. I’m not doing that. She is a friend of mine and I’m just proud of her work. I shot her first cover a few months back and she just became this superstar after it hit the press.”

“Ohhhhh,” he said with some relief, “That’s good to know. You never know with these New York types.”

“I told you I’m from Georgia. That’s why you felt comfortable talking to me cause we live only a few counties over.”

“I know. I know. It’s just I saw an episode on one of those crime shows, y’know, and the guy had all of these clippings of this woman all around his apartment.”

I handed Morgan the money I owed him. “I’ll see you soon Morgan. I promise, I ain’t no serial killer.”

Morgan chuckled and took my money, handing me my change. “Well, that’s good to know, my friend...You get that Al Green album I suggested,” he said as I tucked the change in my pocket.

"I did. Listen to the whole thing. Only play one song on it though.” I played it constantly...every chance I got.

“Sometimes it be like that. See ya tomorrow,” he added.

I grinned, sticking the magazine next to the newspaper under my arm.“You got it. Tomorrow, Morgan.” I began my jog again to my place.

My place. It went back to its normal function, except I no longer dabbled in photography. The usual prints and edits I had laying around were nowhere in sight. I painted more, which helped center me in my life, so I had my easel set up with something I attempted working on. The acrylic paints stained my desk and workspace now.

I headed to my record player and put the needle directly on the vinyl. How do you mend a broken heart?, by Al Green, became my favorite song on the album because I had no clue how to do it. I tried some things to mend my heart. Painting for one. Sitting out on my escape.

I can still feel the breeze,

that rustles through the trees

And misty memories of days gone by

But we could never see tomorrow

Would you believe that no one

No one ever told us about the sorrow...soooooo

Life seemed simpler now. I didn’t have to interact with another person and at the moment I didn’t want to. Glenn and Maggie’s wedding would be the first time I picked up a camera for anything. Hopefully, I still had the juice to get the shots I used to get with such ease. I looked up at the ceiling, tracing those white pipes like I always did.

Wishing someone give me the answer.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Soooo... this is the venue, Rick.” Maggie said walking me around the large room. The wood floors had a shine dance across them that I’d thought would give me some beautiful shots. “The wedding and reception will be in adjacent rooms. This is the reception space. There’s lots of old antique, decadent furniture in the downstairs lobby, as you’ve seen. They’ll be plenty of...”

She started to walk towards the other room where the wedding will be held. The clack of her heels and her voice echoed through the space. This rooms large dramatic windows and the view of the Brooklyn bridge would be perfect for me. Well, for Maggie and Glenn. For the first time, excitement took over my entire body. I couldn’t wait to shoot the wedding.

“Can I ask you something?” she said pausing by one of the windows. Her chestnut hair grew out longer now, nearly shoulder length and she pushed some of it behind her ear. A smile adorned her face, but concern too.

“Shoot,” I said looking around and taking the place in. I’d probably do some test shots when I got here the day of the wedding, I thought before I looked back at Maggie.

“Why aren’t you taking any of the shoots that I set up for you? So many people have asked about you, or I throw out your name and still no response. What’s going on?”

I really wasn’t expecting her to ask me any of that. I ran my hand through my own growing hair and smiled. “Um. I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really been in the mood.”

She wore an all-black, long-sleeved jumpsuit and electric blue heels that she kicked against the floor. Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the dark brown brick wall. “Because of Michonne?”

Her name still did something to me even after three months of not seeing her face to face. The sound of the syllables reaching my ear. Almost as soothing as a lullaby to a baby. “Well, at first yeah. But...I don’t know. I just don’t have the drive to do it anymore. It’s like...I made her a star and the universe is saying that was all the good that can come from my photography.”

“Maybe you’re just having some sort of mental block?” She wondered.

Yeah. I can’t get Michonne off my mind. “Maybe. I still got the thing inside me that makes me good at it or else I wouldn’t do y’all’s wedding. But that world. The people in it. It’s just a lot.”

She looked around the room, then back at me. “I won’t pry, but…” She stood and faced me, “I can’t see you just give up. Everyone had that point in their career or life when they want to give up. I know that, but I just can’t see you do it.”

“I’m not giving up. Just taking a break. For years it’s always been photography...pictures…photographs….shoots. I just want a little break is all.” I hoped I sounded convincing. In reality, I’d been doing this nonstop. A break was just temporary. That’s it. Only for a while.

Maggie clasped her lips together to try and not speak on the subject anymore. I knew she wanted to, but I’m glad I could see she wouldn’t. “Well,” she said walking off, “I’ll try and see you sometime in the next week or so. If not, I’ll see you the day of the wedding. All of the important Fashion Weeks are finally over. I can’t believe I get to breathe.”

“If anybody deserves to spend some time alone with their soon to be husband away from real life, it’s you Maggie. Everyone needs time off to breathe.”

“You’re right. Carol will have some good hands around her to chop off. I’m glad I’ll get to keep mine for a while.” We both laughed and I gave her a big hug.

“Congrats, Maggie. I’ll see you on Saturday. I’ll be here early in the day to set up.”

“Thanks, Rick. I owe you big time,” she offered.

“You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to do this for you for free.”

"No, we're paying you, because we know you'd do it for free. And shut up, we can afford it," she added before I could protest.

Friends ...real friends were hard to come by. And to have them for this long, I couldn’t have wished for anything better. I knew Maggie was concerned about my lack of wanting to engage in photography, and it bothered her. It bothered me. But I wouldn’t rush trying to be famous anymore.

Fame and I didn’t mix very well.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day finally arrived—The wedding of Maggie Greene and Glenn Rhee. The wedding organizer proved to be the most calm person from the entire morning, keeping everything on time and in orderly fashion. I linked up with Daryl on Friday night and he said he’d be here sometime in the day to set up with the band. Also caught up with Glenn who’d been freaking out more than normal. We had an early morning jog and that seemed to calm his nerves.

But here at the wedding spot everything sparkled. The wood floors did the space justice and light bounced gleefully off of them. Pearls were strung along the ceiling where bouquets of white flowers adorned certain areas. A white satin like aisle covered the floor and red rose petals in abundance lined either side of it. The whole thing kind of reminded me of the night...never mind. I did as the wedding organizer suggested and placed my equipment discreetly to the side, putting on my grey suit jacket. Once I took out my camera, I took a few shots of the venue to get some preliminary test photos.

I felt like my groove came back slowly but surely. The angles I shot. The lines. It felt like my photography had never left me. Today would be a good day for me...no matter what.

Guests started to pile in at some point during my test shots and I decided to capture some of them. I knew the beauty of a person existed when they weren’t trying to be beautiful. That seems complex in thought, but honesty, when people just laughed with one another, or pushed a single strand of hair out of their face I found something so beautiful in that. In everyday expressions we throw to the wayside. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t feel that tiny spark of joy coming back into my fingers.

But I almost dropped my camera when I saw what looked like a ghost...or an angel... damn I don’t know walk through the door. Right through my lens I definitely caught some heavenly body float through the room. A swarm of people walked up to her, and she was as pleasant as ever, signing autographs and taking pictures...some selfies.

There she was, in a navy-blue skirt, white blouse with gold buttons, and thigh high navy, suede boots that looked like she stomped hearts out of feeble men. Her locs had a blonde hue to them and floated as she walked down the aisle. Her smile made the sun look like a fool for even trying to be brighter than hers.

There she was...Michonne.

And she had some guy linked to her arm as they made the way to their assigned seats. Some good-looking guy with short curly hair and a smile to make all the girls swoon. I had no clue who he was, and I instantly hated him. Hated every f*cking thing about him.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Act like you don’t see her.

But how could I stop? How could I stop looking at perfection? How could I stop looking at what they meant when they said Beauty is her name? How?

So, the only thing I could do was force myself to look away. I moved from her direct line of view and circled expertly to the back of the seating area, deciding to wait for Maggie’s entrance.

A tap on my shoulder caused me to almost drop my camera for the second time. “Um...dude. Why are you standing back here? You’re supposed to be near the altar.”

“Jesus Glenn. You scared me.” He really had. I secured my camera and stood in the center between where the chairs were divided. “I’m just getting some cool angle shots of the guests and of the altar.” I took a few photos to help me in my lying.

“Maggie will be out shortly, I’m guessing. Walk with me to the front.” Glenn said leading the way.

“I’ll be right there,” I said taking a few more shots. I had to calm my nerves and devise a plan to not stare at a certain area in the room where a certain ex of mine sat.

You got this, Grimes. It’s just Michonne. Just the woman you can’t let go and the newsstand guy thinks you’re obsessed over. Stay cool.

I gave myself the ultimate pep talk and put on my big boy underwear. I wanted a sip of champagne...beer...vodka...moonshine. Hell...I needed it. Anything to get this situation back in my favor. I truly never expected her to show up.

I met Glenn at the altar and could see sweat forming on his brow. “I need a cold drink,” he whispered. Me too, brother. Me too.

My mother always taught me to hold onto multiple handkerchiefs just in case a moment called for ones use. I reached in my pocket and handed one to Glenn, who laughed. “I knew there was a reason your country ass was my friend,” he said wiping at the sweat accumulating on his forehead.

Smiling, I rested my camera in one hand and straightened his bow tie with the other. “Everyone needs a country friend whose mother is a southern belle. How could you go through life without one?”

“Exactly!” he agreed, dusting his black suit off. Glenn smoothed his hair back and blew out a big breath. In the long run, Glenn and Maggie decided to just have themselves and the pastor standing at the altar—no maid of honor or best man would stand at their side.

I glanced at my watch. “It’s about that time.” And as if on cue the wedding March began to play.

I instantly raised my camera, waiting for the bride to make her way onto the aisle. The entire wedding party stood as well, waiting for their turn to see the fashion statement Maggie would make.

I lifted my camera only to see Lori sitting in the back row. Her hair sat in its customary tight bun wearing a black pant suit. Lord, here we go again.

But this wasn’t the place for my trepidation and freaking out. I promised Glenn this would be a civil event and I would finally be a man of my word. I swallowed hard and adjusted my lens, taking several shots of Maggie walking down the aisle, her simple white dress not taking any shine from her natural beauty.

I turned to Glenn’s whose heartbeat could be seen from his chest. He clearly looked like he’d pass out, but the tiniest of smiles rested at the corners of his mouth, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. It was beautiful catching the emotion of a man who would be willing to spend the rest of his life with a woman that he’d love to the end.

For now, and always.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daryl stepped to the mic and tapped it a few times. “Uh hello. Hel-hello.” The chatter began to die and even I finally put my camera down for just a second's rest. “I’m Daryl Dixon and this is Cherokee Rose . I don’t know if you know this, but Maggie and Glenn are very dear friends of ours, and this moment means a lot to them. Enough that I won’t screw it up with my raspy singing voice.” The entire crowd started to sprinkle with laughter.

“Without further ado, I’d like to introduce this special couple as they make their way into this new world as man and wife. Ladies and Gentlemen...clap your hands…” The crowd clapped as instructed and Daryl joined in. “...come on I know y’all can clap louder than that. As I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Rhee.”

Maggie and Glenn walked into the reception venue holding hands and you couldn’t knock the smile off their faces. The wedding ceremony carried out beautifully with lots of tears and beautiful vows written by both of them. I teared up a few times for sure. The whole thing made me forget the two woman who had me worried only thirty minutes earlier.

The crowd circled around the dance floor and concentrated on the bride and groom, and they locked together for their first dance. Jesus took over on the mic. “Maggie...Glenn, this is for you...one...two...one, two, three…” he softly counted, and the band started to play a few chords. The song instantly hit my ears and I started to smile when Jesus started to sing. I picked my camera back up and headed to the dance floor, taking shots upon my approach.

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing.

Watch you smile while you are sleeping,

While you're far away and dreaming,

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender.

I could stay lost in this moment forever,

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasurrrreeee

Maggie wrapped her arms around Glenn’s neck, and he held her waist. I knew to stay back and just capture these lovers on the first day of the rest of their lives.

Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep
'

Cause I'd miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

Maggie sung along, mouthing the words to Glenn, and honestly it almost made me cry. This damn Aerosmith song, “Don't Wanna Miss a Thing,” was Maggie’s favorite song ever, and Daryl did it justice.

I don't wanna miss one smile

I don't wanna miss one kiss

W ell, I just wanna be with you

Right here with you, just like this

I just wanna hold you close

I feel your heart so close to mine

And just stay here in this moment

For all the rest of time, yeah, yeah, yeah

The drums picked up I turned the camera to the audience. Women were covering their hearts and dabbing their eyes for the incoming tears. The men had smiles all over their face, a few shedding tears with the woman.

And then it seemed like it was supposed to happen. Kismet, if you will. Through the entire crowd I found Michonne, and our eyes locked. The guy she was with whispered something in her ear, but in that moment he wasn’t there. No one was there. Just her. Always her. In my f*cking dreams. In my head. In my heart. Those brown eyes haunted me for months even in their absence and still, I never wanted to dwell upon them more.

Don’t wanna close my eyes

Don’t wanna fall asleep

Cause I’d miss you baby

And I don’t wanna miss a thing...

Minutes passed and soon the song ended, Maggie kissed Glenn and the remained there holding each other, still dancing. “Again, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Rhee. You two are beautiful, and I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you both,” Jesus said after a few moments. The crowd clapped uproariously once more, and I captured the wedded couple's smile. I felt love for them, but I felt something else entirely.

My own love, perhaps.

When I looked back to that area she stood, Michonne wasn’t standing there anymore. Just the douche with the curly Justin Timberlake hair sans the Golden tips. I decided something in that moment. I was tired of closing my f*cking eyes and dreaming.

When reality stood right near me.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Maggie and Glenn sat at a small square table near the large windows. The Brooklyn bridge showcased behind them beautifully and of course, I was there to get every wonderful shot. Maggie changed into this white, silk gown with thin straps and Glenn took off his black suit jacket.

I also rolled my sleeves up, getting back into the swing of things. Many of the guests headed to the dance floor before the food was served, and I got a great shot of a woman twirling around as her skirt billowed like Marilyn Monroe's from that iconic scene.

A nice older woman approached me, taking me slightly out off my rhythm. “You’re that famous photographer. The one they did the spotlight piece on in the July issue of Vogue. You photographed the Michonne. Hey, Emma this is the famous photographer.” Her jewish Brooklyn accent stuck out in the most adorable way.

I felt...shocked. “Um...I don’t know about being famous and all that. But, yeah, that was me in that issue.”

“What’s your name? Ricky...Richard…”

“Rick.” A familiar voice said from behind. You ever experience something so chilling the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. That’s exactly what I felt now.

Lori. It was f*cking Lori.

“That’s it. Thank you, Lori, dear. Oh, what a pleasure to see you. I’m Emogene Walker and I’m a frequent purveyor of your gallery. I remember the showing of that art installation... Trials and Tribulations. Oh, so wonderful.” The older lady gushed. Her friend, who introduced herself as just Eliza, agreed with her sentiment.

“Well, thank you Mrs. Walker and yes, I’ve known of your patronage for months. I greatly appreciate it, and so do the many artists who frequent my space,” she said in that false, haughty voice of hers.

Lori stood closer to me, and I had an urge to escape or yell at her. I did neither. I didn’t want to be rude to the two older women. No drama, Grimes. Not at the event. Not at the reception.

When the two ladies became distracted by another publisher at the reception, they walked off hand in hand.

“Their lovers.” Lori said, walking to the front of me. “Like you and I used to be.” She po need between the two of us.

“Um, excuse me. I have...a job to do.” I could feel my teeth grinding against one another. I had absolutely nothing to say to her.

“You can’t speak to me Rick? Look, I know you still upset about what I did, but I figure a few months time was enough—“

“Enough for what? For me to dislike the very thought of your presence. Get over yourself, Lori. For you to even come ten feet near me speaks a lot about who you are. About whom you think I am. I wouldn’t forgive you for what you did, not even on my most religious day.”

She clutched at her diamond necklace and her big eyes widened even more. “I’m shocked, Rick. Truly...honestly. I do you a couple of favors and get your name on the map. Get you exposure—”

“You put twelve pictures up in your art gallery. That’s it and yeah, I got exposure, but honestly Lori. None of that matters. I want nothing to do with you. You’re like this thing that just brings destruction with them. Like the f*cking plague.”

“Oh, I see,” she said looking around, so no one saw how flustered she became.

“Do you? What would make you happy? What?” I shook my head. “How stupid can you be? I don’t want you. I don’t think I ever really wanted you. Never. You are a jealous, spiteful, vindictive bitch and I hope to God you get what’s coming to you.” The rasp and deepness of my voice scared me.

Yeah, I took fault in what I’d done. This kiss was uncalled for between Alex and I and the silly texting mistake with Lori. Yeah, I got that, but I should have been the one to tell Michonne. Not some woman who she thought didn’t even matter with me.

She started to say something but stopped. The music started to suddenly diminish in my ears, and I kept going. “You think you can get whatever you want? That’s it, right? Ask for a gallery...get it. Need a boy toy for your every whim? You got it. You want Balenciaga or Dior or Chanel? Here you go. Want to get that boy toy back when he’s clearly involved with someone? Okay...ruin his relationship. Did your sleazy, perverted daddy teach you that you could get anything if you put your pretentious little evil mind to it?”

“Don't you talk about me…Don’t...Don’t you talk about my father…”

"f*ck your father. f*ck you...you...you,”

“Hey there, Rick. You doing alright there, buddy?” Glenn appeared from nowhere and grabbed my shoulder. He glanced at Lori. “Oh, hey Lori. How have you been?” Lori looked mortified and turned in the other direction heading for the exit.

For a moment I felt my heart thump violently in my chest. The music started to come back into my ears. I looked at my hands which had lost coloring from squeezing the sides of my camera so violently.

"Dude...wtf...I said no drama. I could see the flames rising off you from my table way across the room.”

“I’m...sh*t...sorry, man.”

“You good? Need some fresh air or a break. You’ve been shooting nonstop. You might need a break,” he suggested. I disagreed.

“No. I’m fine. Just...need to get back at it. I swear I was doing good. I am good. I’ll be good.”

“Good, cause I don’t want Maggie to kick your ass. I can’t help you once it reaches that point. Glenn laughed and I could only join in once my nerves settled back down.

Glenn playfully shook my shoulder and walked off. I took a few more deep breaths then decided to get some pictures of the sky as the sun started to set. The day wore on and I prayed that I would hold it together.

I had to get it back together.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hey...hey everyone.” Daryl held up a glass initiating the start of a toast. “I just wanted to say a few words to the new Rhees,” he said getting closer to the mic. “I remember when I met that fool over there, and his girlfriend Maggie. They made me vomit from how well they went together.”

Everyone started to laugh. I took in the joyous atmosphere still collecting photos. Got a few good ones of the band rocking out. “Nah, but for real. They make this thing called love look like it’s the easiest thing in the world and I hope that I have as much luck with my girl.” Sasha sat off to the side with Michonne and the N’ Sync guy. Their table was not too far from where Glenn and Maggie sat. Sasha held up her glass towards Daryl, mouthing she loved him.

“Love you too, babe,” Surprisingly, Daryl...the love em and leave em, guy had been in the longest relationship I had ever seen him in. His happiness could be seen from far away and for the first time I envied him, but I was happy too. They were perfect for one another.

“So, here’s to Glenn and Maggie and an eternity of loving each other.” Daryl held his flute up high before taking a generous sip. I decided after hours of standing that I’d take Glenn up on his offer. Maggie said I wasn’t there just to take photos and that I needed to relax. She assured me the videographer would capture just as much as I would. But just as I was about to sit down, I heard my name.

“Rick. Rick. Get your country ass up here and say some kind words for you friends. Come on,” Daryl said into the mic... very loudly I might add.

I felt like a spotlight took over my frame and all eyes were on me. I nearly shook my head but couldn’t do that to them. I had to say a few words. I stood and walked around my table, using my camera as a shield. Be a mighty shield.

Daryl was happier than he’d been ever in life and gave me the biggest hug. I guess the energy from the nuptials and the champagne were getting to him. “Go head, bro.” He took the mic off the stand and handed it to me. Maggie easily had a hundred or more guests at this event, and every single eye thwarted me.

“Um…” The reverb from the mic made me move my head back and I took a pause before trying again. “Um. Hey everyone. I’m Rick Grimes.” I received an undue applause from the crowd which confused me; I wasn't sure what they were clapping for so much.

“Uh, Maggie and Glenn. Two of the most precious little peas in the pod.” A few people smiled, some laughed. I scratched the back of my neck, looking down at my camera cause I really was terrible at public speaking. “Um...they are two touchstones. People in the same universe who eventually found each other.” I could hear a few “awes” from the woman in the audience.

I continued on. “You know, a good friend of mine, well, I hope she considers us that, once said to me that only Time let’s ya know when you got something. The seconds; the minutes; the hours...they move us forward and propel us to what our destiny is...what it could be. I think if life does play out over and over again, those two over there would constantly find each other cause that’s what the universe would want.” I looked up and a few women were dabbing their eyes with napkins.

I briefly looked at the table where Michonne sat. She looked off in another direction, but I could tell she was listening. “If we take the time...time to really appreciate things, we’d see that there is beauty in love, and that Time only magnifies how much we love one another.” When I said that, she finally looked up and over, locking eyes with me.

I held my heart and held up the champagne flute Daryl handed me. “Time apart...time together...time spent laughing at all the joys life has to offer, and all the other moments in between. These are the Times we all wish for. All of it.” I briefly looked at Glenn and at Maggie, who had a napkin in her hand, dabbing away tears. “And I’m wishing you both a good time. Here’s to many, many years of prosperous marriage. To the Rhees.”

“To the Rhees,” a majority of the audience repeated. I turned back and glanced at Michonne, who no longer looked at me, but dabbled her eyes a bit with her napkin. I could see Sasha hold her hand, comforting her it seemed. The crowd clapped once more for me and Daryl snatched the mic from my hand.

“I told you to say a few words, not to come up with something better than me.” Everyone burst out in laughter and Daryl spoke again. “No really, bro. That was beautiful. When’d you become such a f*cking poet?” He joked and I shrugged my shoulders.

“I knew a woman who knew how to convey her words. Taught me a lot.” He nodded as if knowing what I meant and patted my back and I started to walk off the platform and head back to my seat. Daryl asked if anyone else had anything else to say, and someone else made their way to the platform. I could hear the woman in the audience as I made the way to my seat.

“That was so beautiful.”

“O-M-G, how beautiful was that.”

“Can the man not do anything? Beautiful photographer. Beautiful with words. Jesus.” I heard a few more expressions along the way. More words of love left the mouths of many as each person recounted when they first met Glenn and Maggie and how much success they wished for their marriage. The affectious feeling in the air caught me too. I wished nothing but the best marriage for them:

They’d have a great one, no matter what.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I went back to my comfort zone of photography. Day turned into night and the wedding reception was a hot and jumping party. Lots of people came up asking for me to take their pictures and offered me money for the shot. I declined as Maggie and Glenn were paying me generously for today. Many of them I just handed my business card to, relaying that I’d email their shots to them.

I also finally started to come out of my shell and let loose. I spoke with a few buddies from Pratt, and even circulated with some publishers from Maggie’s magazine. Caught Carol and Ezekiel getting chummy at their table...a good effect of the wine and champagne. I leaned my camera forward to see just how many shots I got. Hundreds it seems. Maggie and I would spend a few hours picking out the good ones for sure.

“Hey stranger.” That voice. For the first time in a while, I felt my heart relax; felt my body relax. It was instantly comforting.

I looked up with the biggest smile on my face. Cool, Grimes. Keep it cool. “I could say the same thing. Thought you'd be in Toyko eating Sushi. Hey stranger, yourself,”

Michonne crossed her arms, but one arm took a detour, going for the little M pendant necklace that hung from her neck. “Hahaha. You remembered i like Sushi How have you been?”

“How could I forget anything about you." She smiled when I said that. "Good. I’m doing better.”

“That’s good.” She smiled at me, and I smiled at her. It felt like we did that for a while, smiling and taking each other in. “You look a lot better. You’re shaved. Your hair is long. Curly.” She reached out and touched it. “Earlier I couldn’t second if I liked the look on you, but I love it. Very nice.” She let go of my curls and I wanted to tell her to keep going. She had no reason to stop.

“You look...amazing. You’re highlights…”

“It’s natural-ish. Spent a lot of time out in the sun in Italy. Miami too when I was there, so decided to help it out.”

“Looks good on you. Your outfit is beautiful, by the way.” Are you kidding, Grimes. It’s sexy as hell. She’s sexy as hell. But I didn’t know where our line was anymore. I’m sure it wasn’t in that place anymore.

“You're shooting again. It was good to see that. I’d hoped you got back into it. Daryl kind of told Sasha you’d quit.”

“Yeah, well, I took a break. Lost my muse so I lost my way.” I honestly admitted. She looked conflicted. Happy, but sad as well. I really didn’t know. I knew I was conflicted. I wanted to hold her. To kiss her. To talk to her for hours, but I’d take this moment for now. “Saw your last cover. You were in the yellow dress. The wind is just blowing it in just the best way.”

“Yeah, the Italy shoot. The wind was a bitch, but it worked out.”

“Uh-huh.” That’s all I could say. Just having her standing three feet away from me meant more to me than anything else going on, which it shouldn’t cause I had a job to do.

“You want to hang out later?” She asked looking down at her feet, almost bashfully. Her question stumped me. I hadn’t expected it, so I didn’t answer right away. “Who am I kidding, you probably got things to d—“ She started to walk off, but I held my hand out, not sure if it was alright to touch her.

“Wait! No. No. I um...I thought you were here with a guy friend...your boyfriend.” I looked over towards faux Justin Timberlake and then back at her. A small smirk stretched her plump lips.

“Aaron?” She burst out laughing. “Aaron would probably like Jesus more than he likes me,” she said. “He’s very much gay,” Michonne added. I hung my head down, not wanting her to see my relief and delight.

I felt sheepish. “Oh. Guess I’m bad at reading people.”

“Yeah,” she said giggling now. “You got it all wrong.”

I smiled up at her. I couldn’t tell her no. “We can...I’d like to hang out with you.”

“Cool…cool. Carol invited me to this party uptown. I’m honestly just really partied out and just want to go somewhere relatively quiet. Traveling has been rough”

The food here was decent, but I could use a burger. “Want to meet me at the diner we used to go to?”

“We can’t just head over together?” Michonne smiled again and my heart skipped a beat. Then pounded loudly against my chest.

“I’d thought you’d want to change, or chill with your friends a bit more.”

There was that smile again, sweet and delicate with a tinge of playfulness. “ Honey , these boots were made for walking. And there’s cabs…Ubers…Lyfts, so…”

“Okay, I'd just have to get my equipment to my place and then we can make the move to the diner.”

“Okay.” She looked like she wanted to walk towards me, but decided against it for a moment. “Just find me when you’re ready,” Michonne added, settling on giving me a hug.

Damn . That hug put so much life back into me. It felt longer than it should be and I was okay with that. She stood on the top of her toes and held me tighter and for the first time in months I felt...Jesus this felt good. Then just like that it was over far sooner than I’d wanted. It could have gone on forever.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, confirming the...casual outing we’d have.

“Okay,” was all I could say back.

I told myself that I wouldn’t watch her walk away. That I couldn’t take her walking away from me again, but this time felt better. It didn’t feel like a goodbye.

It felt like something else.

Chapter 19: One Could Say That

Chapter Text

One Could Say That

I saw Michonne walk over to Sasha and speak with her for a good length of time. I had no clue what they were talking about, but Sasha didn’t look upset; neither did Michonne. I stared for an unconscious amount of time at them, watching her laugh and playfully hit Aaron’s arm.

My nerves took over me suddenly and I felt like I intruded on a private conversation, especially when I caught Michonne, Sasha, and Aaron glance over to my direction. I decided to walk over to the little buffet stand they had and eat my nerves away.

It was when I stuffed a meatball in my mouth that I realized I needed to do something. To take action. Why was I standing here eating when Michonne was over there?

Go get your girl. Go get her, Grimes.

The band still played fast, upbeat music and were now taking song requests. I managed my way through the dwindling crowd and got Jesus’s attention, asking if the band could play a song for me.

“No problem, Rick. Which one?” He asked. I whispered in his ear the one I thought of and he nodded. “Gotcha, man.”

Not long after he agreed, I sought out Michonne. The path to her seemed like a long one, but it was just the imaginary boundary between us. Weaving through the dancers that still covered the floor, I managed to get a few inches from her. I could see Aaron’s arm bump Sasha’s a little and Sasha pointed in my direction. That’s when Michonne turned around, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly upward.

“Hey, Rick.” Her surprise was evident on her face as she said it. So beautiful. Michonne was just a beautiful woman.

“Hey.” I simply said. We were both silent for a few seconds...all of us...and then Aaron stuck out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Aaron Raleigh. Michonne’s roommate. And you are?” he asked, his question lingering.

I shook his hand. “I’m Rick Grimes.”

“Ohhhhh okay. I see now. The photographer. I’ve seen your work. Quite the eye for photographing beautiful specimens like Michonne here. You possess a talent many spend their lives looking to get.”

“I seem to hear that a lot.” I tried not to seem too co*cky. I was a good photographer, but not the greatest.

“Well, it’s true. And after meeting you, I know why Michonne talks her head off about you.” When he made that comment, a shocked Michonne huffed and hit his arm.

“Aaronnn,” she mumbled.

“Michonne,” he repeated in the same tone. She whispered something to him, while Sasha laughed a bit, stepping closer to give me a hug.

“Rick Grimes. How have you been?” she asked. My eyes widened in surprise at how friendly she sounded, but then she whispered, “you know me and my girls still owe you that ass whooping.”

I leaned back and nervously grinned. “I’ve been good Sasha and I know y’all do. I’ve been ducking and dodging y’all for months now,” I joked, but I secretly did anticipate the three girls jumping me while walking down the steps to the subway. She took a step back.

“Um hmmm. You are a lucky son of a bitch, cause I was told to spare your ass by my girl so…”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, turning my attention back to Michonne, who only smiled sheepishly back at me, walking towards us.

“Is Sasha being nice?” She stood beside her friend but looked at me.

I nodded. “Yeah, she’s been...nice-ish.” Both girls laughed and I smirked.

Laughter...that’s good. Michonne spoke again. “I was just asking Aaron and Sasha if they wanted to hang out later with us, but Sasha is chilling with Daryl and Aaron said he has jet lag.”

I didn’t know she had invited both of them, but I’m so glad that they weren’t coming. “Oh, okay.”

“Sooooo, it’ll just be you and me,” she added.

“That’s cool.” That’s when the song finished playing and Jesus stepped to the mic.

“We have a request from one of you guys. It’s one of my favorite songs so I’m really happy to do it.” He said a few words to the band and silently counted them in as he picked up his all-black electric guitar, throwing its strap across his shoulder. The bluesy intro started and the audience who once danced to the upbeat music began to couple up for the slow song. I looked over and the smile Michonne gave me nearly made me pass out...she remembered the song.

Ask her idiot. Ask her. “You wanna dance with me?” I finally encouraged myself to say. She nodded, the smile never leaving her beautiful face.

“Yeah...of course,” she said. I looked passed her to Aaron who had his hand over his heart, almost as happy as Michonne looked and at Sasha who pointed between me and her, letting me know she had her eyes on me. I signaled with a nod that I knew she did, and I won’t lie...I’m very much slightly terrified of her.

We walked to the dance floor like nervous teenagers at their first school function. Michonne stepped closer to me and looked into my eyes, grabbing one of my hands.

Need someone’s hand...to lead me through the night.

I need someone’s arms to hold and squeeze me tight

Now, when the night begins…

I’m at an end

Because I neeeeeddd your

love so bad...

“It’s the song from that first day...” she said when we rocked together. “That day in the studio they were practicing it…this song was the one.”

“Yep,” was the only thing I could utter. She just looked so beautiful right now to me. The bright white and pink lights danced over her skin as we swayed on the floor. Our embrace was not close at the moment, but it didn’t matter because she was in my arms.

“One could say it’s our song then.” Her smile. God. It made my heart ache. Not in the way one would think, like I was in absolute pain, but in a way that meant that she was the sole person who could disturb its beat; the only one who made it skip.

“One could say that,” I agreed, pulling her closer to me. Jesus. My skin tingled and burned with her body next to mine like this. Every single inch of it.

I neeedddd some soft lips

To feel next to mine…

“So, you talk about me a lot to Aaron, huh?” I asked, being a bit more courageous. She looked to her right and I saw a tiny hint of a smile.

“Maybe...maybe not. Who’s to say. Aaron could be exaggerating.” Michonne looked up at me, still amused by my question. “What’s it to you?”

I chuckled. “I just like to know when my girl... I mean when you are talking about me to other men or people in general. Plus, he mentioned it, so I was inquiring.”

“I bet.” We smirked at one another as Jesus belted the song, his voice echoing through the room. She leaned her head against my shoulder, and I held her closer, rubbing the small of her back in soft circles. Michonne slightly lifted her head, peeking into my eyes. Seeing her again...right now…looking at me with so much longing is the best way I could describe how much I needed that look. I needed her.

So why don’t you give it up, and bring it

home to me

Or write it on a piece of paper, baby, so it can be read to me

Tell me that you love me, and stop drivin’

me mad

Ohhhh, because I, I need your love

so bad

I missed the hell out of her. I just missed her, and I wanted to dance like this with Michonne forever. Holding her. Comforting her. Feeling her body against mine and realizing that maybe that little time apart was needed. It made things clear to me. Crystal clear.

Need your soft voice,

that talked to me at night

I don't want you to worry, baby

I know we can make everything alright

Listen to my plea, baby, bring it to me

Because I need your love so bad

She was the only one for me.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So...you and Michonne? I saw you two dancing. You guys talked?” Daryl asked as the band ate a little on their break. The rest of the crew were scattered around the reception hall. I even noticed Jesus talking to that guy Aaron which made me smile. Good for Jesus.

“Yeahhhh. Yeah, we talked...we danced. She wants to hang out after the weddings are over,” I said looking at my watch. The night was still early enough, and we just cut the cake not too long ago. I got the classic shot of the bride and groom stuffing cake in each other’s faces. Soon they were about to start the bouquet toss and the garter thing the guys do while the band took their break.

“Ohhhh. Okay. You guys are hanging out?” Daryl patted my shoulder. “That’s good news, man. What’s on the agenda for you two?”

“She wants to go to the diner we always went to. We’re gonna head there after I get my equipment back to the studio.”

“Well, why don’t I take your equipment when this thing is over and pack it up with the band's stuff. We got enough space in the van. That way you two can just do your thing. Unless...unless you’re trying to get her back to your apartment.” He winked and I laughed to myself.

There was nothing more I wanted than to spend some time alone with Michonne in my apartment. Just like we did all those months ago… every night almost, it seemed. But it wasn’t the right time, and I wouldn't push the subject.

“Nahhhh. I just want to catch up with her. See what she’s been up to.”

“Well then that’s what’s happening, bro. Find me when the reception is almost over, and I’ll take care of your equipment.”

“Alright, cool. Be gentle with my equipment Daryl. It’s expensive and…”

“My sh*ts all expensive, too. Plus, Maggie would shoot me if I lost these pictures after a whole day of you taking her and Glenn’s photos. I’m guarding this like the Cartier Diamonds security team,” he joked, but in all seriousness...Maggie would kill him if he did lose them.

“Good. That’s the plan then.” I agreed. Daryl started to walk to where Maggie and Glenn stood on the dance floor for the ceremonial wedding bouquet toss. He paused and turned around.

“Fight for her man. She loves you a lot. Still does.”

I was surprised when he said that. “How do you know?” I asked.

“Just know that I got the 411 on all things Michonne related.” He smiled and walked away. I figured he could only be referring to Sasha and things she may have told him in confidence. I didn’t know how true it was but…

...I still loved her. A lot.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Okayyyyy. Here we go ladies...one...two...three.” Maggie turned away from the crowd of ladies and looked back after the count of three to get the right aim. She released her decadent bouquet of flowers, tossing them behind her. The pack of women raised their hands and tried to catch the bouquet. Only one would be the victor, and that was… Sasha.

Everyone started to cheer and congratulate her, as Maggie gave her a hug. Now it was Glenn’s turn to toss the garter. He grabbed a chair and sat it in the middle of the dance floor. Maggie sat in the chair, and he bent low, seductively lifting her dress without showing too much of her thigh and pulling the garter down.

In the middle of me snapping a shot, Carol walked up to me. She had just stepped away from Michonne. “Well, if it isn’t Rick Grimes, photographer extraordinaire.”

“Mrs. Carol Pelletier. How have you been?”

“Better than most. I’m tired. These events seem to go on forever and ever. Ezekiel is getting our car.”

“I have to agree...it’s been a long day.”

“Yes, So enough with the chit chat. You still do photography, yet you haven’t been to any of the shoots I’ve had Maggie harass you for.”

I took my camera off and sat it on my tripod stand. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been going through a lot and just…”

“Oh, excuses. How I hate them so. This is the man who gave me my best cover this year...hell, in years and I’ve been trying to get you on at Vogue full time. I don’t normally go out of my way for something unless it’s worth my time.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I just...” The crowd started to cheer as one of the men caught the garter. I turned the crowd out.

“I’m going to contact you myself. I need a photographer. Someone with your eye and I need that person in two weeks. Is this something you can do?”

“I’m not freelance anymore.”

“I don’t want you to be a freelancer. I want you on my roster. On my team. I have a whole idea for the December issue, and I want your thoughts on it.”

“Mrs. Pelletier, with all due respect, I-“

“You think about it. Give me a call in a week or so.” She handed me her card. “You have me begging. I never beg, but I don’t like wasted talent.”

“I’ll think about this.”

“Don’t you let your light die out already. You just changed the bulb,” she said. When her husband called her phone, she inhaled sharply.

“I must go. Do call me now, would you? Whatever your decision turns out to be. Take care now, Rick Grimes.”

“You have a good evening, ma’am.”

Carol smiled, glanced at Michonnne, then back at. “I see why, now. Ma’am,” she repeated to herself and walked away.

I looked at the card in my hand. Did I want to go down that road again? Photographing models. Models who weren’t Michonne. I stuck the card in my pocket and looked at the crowd. I really had no clue what I wanted.

None at all.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“The nights nearly over and I’m a hot sweaty mess. I’m good at pictures, Rick. You wanna head out? I’m sure we got everything we need.”

“You booked me for the entire day,” I reminded Maggie. She gave me a hug.

“My hair is puffy and I’m a sweaty mess. Plus, a lot of the older crowd’s left and it’s just a few stragglers who want to drink and dance. I’m sure they feel the same way as me.” She kissed my cheek and hugged me again. “I’m sure what you have gotten will bring me to tears.”

“Yeah. I know I got some good stuff with everyone.”

“Great! We’ll make a date to go over everything and see what stays and goes. Now, enough wedding sh*t. Get outta here and get some rest. You’ve been up as long as Glenn and I have,” she said, which was true. I had to make sure my equipment was in working order and took some shots of her getting ready this morning. It’s been quite the day for me.

“Okay, Mrs. Rhee. You’re the boss.”

“Damn right. Now get out of here.” Someone walked up to Maggie and gave her a lengthy hug. Both women walked away hand in hand and began to dance in the middle of the floor. Maggie’s happiness was a joy to see and capture. Work kept her serious and focused and it was good to see her let loose.

I headed over to where my equipment sat in a corner and began packing everything up. It was still early enough to catch the ferry to Williamsburg, Brooklyn if Michonne wanted to leave now. On my way to give Daryl my equipment she walked up to me.

“You’re done here?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Maggie has given me specific orders to get the hell out of this place.”

She grinned. “Oh okay, good.”

“Yeah, um…” I looked at my watch. “It’s 9:08 and the last ferry leaves at 9:45. I figure that’ll be the quickest way to get to the diner in Williamsburg. We just gotta walk to the port,” I said looking at my watch. Michonne pointed to my bag and the tripod stand in my hand.

“What about your equipment? I thought you said you had to drop it off at your place,” she reminded me.

“Oh yeah, Daryl’s gonna pack it up with the band's equipment when they start to break down. He said he’ll drop it off at my studio later.”

“Ohhhhh.” When she said that her lips kind of stayed in the “o” shape, and she grabbed her necklace. “Well, are you ready then?”

“Yep. You ready?”

She glanced toward where the coats were checked if anyone bought one. “I had a little sweater with me for the cool night if I needed it. The temp is dropping...I just came from outside not too long ago. Imma grab that and then we can go.”

“That’s cool. I’ll drop this off with Daryl and then meet you by the coat room.”

She nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

I could only nod my head, as well. Suddenly my nerves got the best of me, and I grew anxious at the thought of us being alone one on one. What would I say? What could we talk about? I made the little detour to drop my equipment off and Daryl wished me luck. Did I need it? Maybe, because I was nervous as hell waiting for her by the coat room.

“I’m good to go. You got everything?” She asked, putting in her Cardigan.

“I am.” I just knew Michonne would fill the void of my nervous silence. Though, as we walked into the hallway and down the corridor to the elevator, she didn’t say much. Michonne grew as quiet as I was and stood in the corner on the far side of the elevator.

“How’s your mom and your sister?” she asked out of nowhere. The dings the elevator made while descending floors could be heard and I leaned against the back wall, turning to her slightly.

“My mom and my sister? Um...they’re fine. They’ve asked about you...about us. Lots of times.” Lots of times.

“What did they think when you told them about our—“

“Break up?” A nervous laugh left me, and I stuck my hands in my pants pocket. “Uh, I never told them that we did.”

Shocked, she faced me. “Why not?” Her voice was pleasant but held a hint of curiosity.

“Cause, like I said to you that day at the music studio...it wasn’t over for me.” Michonne could only look at me, silence becoming our boundary again. I wondered what went through her mind right now. What things circulated up there when I uttered that to her? To be honest, I couldn’t bring myself to tell my family anything. I just told them that she was traveling at the moment and that I wanted to stay in New York because I had a lot of work offers.

The elevator door opened, and I extended my hand so she could leave first. “After you.”

“Thank you.” She waited for me to walk beside her before we continued through the main lobby. “The wedding was really nice. The reception, too. I honestly enjoyed myself. It was late planning on my part to come back to New York.”

“You’re supposed to be in Tokyo now, right?”

“How’d you know where I’m supposed to be? My Twitter, huh? You been stalking me?” She playfully bumped her hip into me, a smug smile crossing her lips. I couldn’t help but grin. We made it to the grand double door entrance, and I opened one of them.

Yes, I have been. Often. “No, I think Daryl mentioned it to me.” I tried to sound convincing. I hoped I did.

“Uh-huh.”

She sees through that lie, Grimes. Right through it. “Yeahhhh.” Things were awkward but I shrugged it off as nerves between us. Michonne was right...it had gotten cooler. The leaves on the trees blew at a steady pace. She put on an oversized blue sweater cardigan that nearly dragged on the sidewalk. “Blue is a nice color on you,” I complimented.

“Thanks,” she said as we made the walk to the ferry. The Dumbo area of Brooklyn had a lot of large-scale buildings like most of New York, and a good portion of these buildings had large murals painted on them. When I first started at Pratt, I’d come take pictures of folks out by the river and at the park. The murals seemed to come to life on sunny days.

“I like walking through Dumbo,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s a nice neighborhood,” she added.

We were quiet again, both of us just awkwardly looking around. We’d catch glimpses of each other and smile like nervous thirteen-year-olds on a date. Why were things so weird?

“Have you seen your parents?” I asked, trying to keep a conversation going. I don’t know why, but I felt silly around her. Not in a bad way—more like...like what I wanted to say I had to prepare myself for it to not sound stupid.

“Yeah. They picked me up from the airport. My mother says I’m getting too skinny and wanted to take me to the bodega and stuff me with food. My dad was just happy to see me, and I was happy to see them,” she admitted as we made our way to the pier. The ferry sat at the dock waiting for the last few passengers before it took off. I stopped to get a pair of tickets from the machine, and we headed in its direction.

“Made it just in time,” I said looking at my watch.

“Yep,” she agreed. “Mind if we stand outside on the deck.”

“No, that’s fine.” We walked through the ferry towards the back. The wind blew rapidly out here.

“You’re not gonna get cold? It’s getting cooler by the minute. Especially on the river.”

“Nope, I’m good. This big sweater should do. Plus, I love the cold and deadass missed New York. Missed looking at the omnipresent jungle of concrete and feeling the ever-evolving history here.”

There’s my Michonne. “You still have a way with words. Always liked that about you.”

She leaned against the railing and looked out to the drifting water, her lips twisting up into a smile. “Thank you,” I barely heard her say. Her cute little expression made my heart pump fiercely.

“How was your flight? Was it long?”

“It was long, and I flew coach, so I had people on both sides of me.”

“That sucks,” I said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “So, you do any-“

“How have you-“ We spoke over each other, both of us laughing. “You go first,” I told her.

Michonne shook her head, looking down. “Nah, it wasn’t anything important.” Then, for a moment she looked lost, almost like she couldn’t find anything else to say. When she turned to me, she hesitated before speaking. “I-I missed you, Rick. I really did. I’m sorry I stopped answering your texts and calls. I didn’t want to. It’s just so hard wanting to separate yourself from someone and wanting to hear them voice all at the same time.” She faced the water again overlooking its expanse.

I shook my head. “I understand,” I told her, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t understand it. Respecting her decision was important because I f*cked up, but it only made me miss her more...want her more. Wait for her every day.

Michonne disagreed, shaking her head. “It’s not understandable to me. It wasn’t right. I never forget you. You were…you are...you’re important to me. You’ll be important for a long time.” She never looked at me as she spoke...only looked at the water.

And I turned and looked out at the water too as the moonlight trickled over the waves. “You are the most important person to me. And that statement will never change. It never has.” I covered her hand that sat gripping the rail.

The horn to the ferry blew and the boat began to pull away from the dock. North Williamsburg was about a 17-minute ride. For a while we just stood there with a good few inches separating her arm from me. She closed the gap, hooking her arm through mine and leaning her head against my shoulder.

The ferry easily sailed against the water and the briny smell of River water wafted in my nose. I felt...whole. Like the purpose to me being in New York meant something again.

It was at that moment that I knew. I knew I didn’t want her to let me go. I closed my eyes and let the brisk air wash my face and relished in the feel of her warm body next to mine. I missed her. I knew it earlier on the dance floor. I knew it some time ago, but I know it more now.

I missed her immensely.

Chapter 20: After This

Chapter Text

After This

We were silent for the entire ride. I think our thoughts consumed us both. I’d catch her looking up at me and I’d look at her, just taking her in. These old thoughts in my mind couldn’t stop me from remembering her. Her beautiful eyes. Her gorgeous lips. Her locs as they moved with the gusts of wind.

For minutes on end, I blocked out all of the noise from the ride to take in the city that she described...this bright jungle of never sleeping maniacs and knew I was one too. But the thought of her still invaded my mind. I hadn’t realized I missed the smell of her so much. That I missed the sound of her voice. These things really hit me the hardest...these feelings of nostalgia.

The horn blew again, signaling we docked. Michonne seemed startled, letting go of my arm to walk off. Her movements were quick, but I saw her wipe her face, quick swipes at her eyes maybe, then turn back towards me.

Was she crying?

“You coming?” she asked shakily, which caught me off guard, but the sight of her here under the light of the moon did as well. Michonne’s skin did that thing again. If the sun made her shine, then the moon made her shimmer, coating her with sparkling dust it seemed.

“Yeah. I’m ready. You okay?” I walked up to her, and she turned around quickly, patting her cheeks once more.

“I am.” She blew a heavy breath.

“You wanna get an Uber or something? I’m pretty sure your feet are killing you after being on them all day,” I asked walking behind her.

“Nope. I wanna walk around. Take the city back in again.” She continuously nodded, reassuring me it’s what she wanted, until she realized something and stopped walking. “Wait...sorry...are you tired? I wasn’t thinking that you might be tired.”

After being on my feet all day chasing the perfect pictures, I was a bit exhausted, too. But I’d trek all five boroughs if that’s what she wanted to do. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Michonne asked again.

“Positive.”

“Cool.” She held her hand out, urging me to take it. “C’mon.”

I happily grabbed it. We made our way around the city, with Michonne inspecting every inch of her dear Brooklyn. She’d point out if something seemed out of place or if she noticed a new piece of weird, eccentric Art.

“Nothing’s changed much, huh? No new gentrified homeopathic shops or high-end thrift boutiques.” We both looked down the row of storefronts that lined the block.

“Nope. Still the same artsy places as before. Though, that shop where you could paint nude models closed down.”

“Noooo, not Paint On Me ...oh nooo,” she said in mock disappointment. We both laughed. The place apparently took their name from a popular 80’s song. She told me a story once about her going there to maybe model nude, thinking they painted her image on canvas. To her surprise, Michonne learned that they wanted to actually paint on her body.

“That place closing is a travesty. A real travesty.” Her laugh echoed on the semi-quiet street. A few people walked ahead and behind us.

“I really miss home. I miss these damn weird ass stores and the eccentric artists and hipsters. It feels good to be back.”

“How long are you staying?”

“For a week...maybe two. The Tokyo shoot didn’t pan out and they chose another girl, so my manager set something up in London. With the weather changing over, I’ll do a winter cover for December. Or maybe it was for Fall and a November spread. Whatever, I’m not sure,” she shrugged.

“Your manager? Who, that Aaron guy from the wedding?”

“Oh no.... No, Aaron and I shared an apartment in Italy. It’s how we met...on a shoot one day and I was looking for temporary housing. He’s actually a model himself and gets a lot of work in Italy. But my managers name is Jennifer Ward. Met her through Andrea.”

“Oh okay. Well, I’m happy for you. I knew you’d blow up and just be all over the world.” I really was happy for her success. At least I thought I had to be happy and supportive.

I thought it all would have been with me though.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The historic diner still had a few guests seated as we walked in. Two of the waitresses leaned up against the counter gossiping with one another. Michonne and I decided to sit at a booth. Usually, we always sat at the counter, but I don’t know...I guess I wanted to talk to her with some privacy this time.

“I want some pizza. I want a big ass, New York style, dripping grease, need to fold it in half, pizza. Plain cheese of course.”

“Of course.” I said agreeing with her enthusiasm.

She grew giddy, dancing in her seat like a little toddler. “I’m so excited. So, so excited.”

“Pizza makes you do little baby dances like that?”

“Yessss. I’m always excited for a big ass slice of pizza.” Her voice grew dramatic. “This place... oh how I longed for it back in Italy. They had some good pizza there… but not like here. And burgers...jeez I missed the burgers from here, but pizzas first on the agenda.” Her excited laughter made her cover her mouth, a shy tendency of hers she never let go. Something she always did when she laughed. I missed that too.

“Welcome back strangers. I haven’t seen you in a long time. Both of youse,” the waitress named Gloria commented when she approached our table. “And miss Michonne, youse hot stuff mama. If my daughter knew you were here, she’d die. Just die I tell you. You’re on or in all the magazines she likes. She follows you on the Twitter .”

We grinned at her calling Twitter, The Twitter. Well...X now…

“Hey miss Glo. How have you been.” Michonne stood, giving her a hug. Mrs. Glo always came to serve us at the counter seats and talk about life. She was an older white woman with brown hair and spoke like a character from the movie Grease.She always had great conversations. "I was just telling Rick how much I missed this here joint. Couldn’t wait to get me a slice, tonight.”

“Missed you too, darling. So, a slice of cheese and a Pepsi it is, right? And you Mr. Big Photographer,” she said with a hand on her hip. “You want a pepperoni and Sweet Iced tea, am I right?”

Smiling, I nodded. “Yes ma’am. You got it all right.”

“I know my faves. I’ll bring your drinks and slices soon and give you two some space. It’s good to see you both again,” she said before walking off.

Michonne clapped her hands together to get my attention. “So, if you’re not doing photography then what are you into at the moment?” She took her oversized sweater off and straightened the bracelets on her wrists. I couldn’t help but stare at her and it wasn't until she waved that I snapped out of it.

“There you go. Going back into your drift away zone.” She shook her head. “Still the same.”

She made me grin. I was paying attention to her...all of her in fact. “Sorry...um, I really haven’t been doing much. I work out a lot now...quit that little booze bender I was on. Just started walking around the city more...I’m painting—“

“You’re painting? Wow, that’s cool. I remember when I first went to your studio and saw that dope painting you had on your wall. I wanted to buy it.”

I slightly smiled, recalling the moment. “Yeahhhhh. Painting is soothing. Well, it can be. It has been for me.”

“That’s good, Rick. I’m happy to hear that you’ve been doing good. I want to paint again. I haven’t since I left, but I should have kept it up. There were these hills in Italy with like a dust of pink flowers everywhere. It was such a beautiful image. I love seeing sights that just take your breath away.” She looked off into space as if the hilly landscape was right there in front of her.

And still... I could only keep my eyes on her. Even when I blanked out. “I could completely agree.”

She faced my direction and we looked at one another for what seemed like minutes upon minutes...taking each other in. My eyes wandered over her. Over her lips...parted slightly, and the softest look took over her features much like when we used to...like when we...made love. I used to look in her eyes...into her windows as she called them, and knew she loved me. I’d just know it.

“I got your slices and drinks,” Glo said interrupting the little moment of reverie I had. The music playing on the jukebox sounded loud again.

“Thank you, Miss Gloria.” I reached for my plate, and she handed Michonne hers, telling us to wave her over if we wanted dessert.

“We will.” Michonne lifted up her slice, not hesitating to fold it and proceed to devour a bite. “Ohhhmyyygoddd. It’s so, so good. Jeez this is good.”

“Is it now?” I grew amused by her happiness.

“Mmmmm. So good.” Her words came out muddled as she stuffed more in her mouth. I joined in, eating my slice, both of us talking about our lives and what we’ve done over the last few months.

Michonne went into detail about her many photo sessions. How some photographers were so nice, and others made her super uncomfortable. Like one guy always touched her legs or stomach to get her to be in a certain pose. Another wanted her to stand in the heat, constantly applying oil to her, which she said burned like hell. That part of her story rubbed me the wrong way. I’d kill any guy who said or did anything out the way to her.

She also spoke in great length about London, and how the new editor in chief took a liking to her. “So, he wants me to get a flat there and just learn the ins and out of modeling through a good friend of his. He says I have this raw, innate talent, but even the best has to get better.”

“He’s right. You’ll only get better with the extra help.” I didn’t like the sound of this though. “So how long will you be in London? What’s the timeline on that looking like?”

She looked down at her plate with only bits of crust on it and shook her head slightly. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t really know. Not forever. Coming back home has really made me realize how much I missed this place.” She stared at me and my heart hurt.

That answer didn’t sit well with me. I wanted her here. I wanted her close to me again. Just this short amount of time with her made me see so much about what I missed.

“You never told me what you were working on? What have you been painting?” Michonne asked, changing the subject. She must’ve seen the worried look I had on my face.

I shrugged drinking my tea. “Oh...nothing really. Just some odds and ends. Things I’d seen on the street from memory.”

“Okayyyy...like what?” She pressed on, engaged now.

I’ll admit, I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t know how she would take it. “Nothing really. Just trying it out again...seeing if I still have the right...stroke.”

“And?" She leaned forward and looked at me with those big doe eyes. I loved her eyes. “Did you find your... stroke again?” Michonne ran her hand through her locs, tossing a generous section to one side. I could see the creaminess of her neck and suddenly remembered how soft the skin felt under my tongue.

But I played it off like her sexy ass voice had no effect on me. “Um...yeah, yeah...yep. I found it alright.”

“What are you doing...after this? Got any plans? You gotta get up early?” Her eyes never left mine, but I had to glance her over. Michonne parted her lips like she had earlier, and old memories began to flood my thoughts…and other places too.

Be cool, Grimes. Be cool.

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my tea again. “I don’t have any plans. Might listen to some music and sit on my escape.”

“The escape. Ohhhh, I missed your escape. Mind if I come along? I mean if you don’t want me to, I’ll just catch…”

I hope I didn't sound too eager when i said, “Um, Nah. You can come over. You’re always welcome to my place.” And I meant that. She would always be welcomed.

She coyly smiled. “You sure? My parents are probably knocked out and Sasha has been at Daryl’s a lot. She mentioned she’d be over there. I just want to hang out with you a little more. Don’t want to be alone," Michonne admitted.

“Okay!” Too anxious of an answer. Calm it down. “I mean, it’s cool Michonne. You‘re not imposing.” Better, Grimes.

She seemed to perk up. “Wanna catch a ride over there?”

“Sure.” I had no expectations for anything. None at all. Not a single one. Are you lying to yourself, Grimes? Those little white lies. Maybe.

“Want to get some dessert from here?” Michonne asked, leaning her head sexily to the side.

“Yeahhhh. We could get some dessert.”

“Cool,” she replied. I rose my hand to try and get Gloria’s attention. She walked over, the most pleasant of smiles on her face and took our orders. They had an Apple pie here, though not as good as my mommas, it was still good so we both got that. When Gloria left it appeared as if Michonne and I got stuck in a staring contest. We’d been doing this all night, staring without talking, but this time it was like who can stare the longest without looking away.

Apparently, she was winning.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Brooklyn has been home to me for the longest. Leaving home to go explore the world really opened my eyes to a lot of things. I mean, New York is mega diverse, but the world is so much more.”

“Is that so?” I asked as we stood outside the diner waiting for our Uber. It was nearly midnight and that tired feeling I had earlier started to fade. It didn’t hurt that I was with the most beautiful woman in New York, and that both of us were kind of night owls.

“Yes. Here in New York, you get little snippets of Italian or Asian culture or cuisine, but going to their real mainland's, you just automatically drown yourself in their history and life. It opened my eyes as an artist.” She looked over to me, crossing her arms. “You should travel. I know if you've seen what I’ve seen, you’d have some amazing pictures to show for it.”

Was I blushing...me a grown man? I hoped my cheeks weren’t beet red. “Y’know. I never even thought you’d travel as much as you have. I couldn’t imagine leaving the country and sightseeing the world. It’s kind of brave.”

Michonne grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "Not really...maybe...I don’t know. You left Georgia to come to New York. Was that not brave?”

“Touché. You have a point.”

“I know,” she playfully teased.

“How was your summer?” I asked moving closer to her. I often thought about what she did for her summer. By that time, we...she... Let’s just say communication was at its lowest between us. I just thought things were over.

“Yeah, so I hung in Italy with some of my closest model acquaintances. Those were growing moments. Fun times. I ended up having small little outings with Aaron and a few of the girls who live in the building. There is a little restaurant on the first level of our building, and we ate there, a lot. I got drunk because it’s super legal and passed out not too long afterwards. I had a good time...I guess.”

I just stared at her. “Wish I could have spent that time with you.”

“I wish we could have spent summer together,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. I stared at her, noticing that she rubbed her arms and kept them tight against her body. The wind picked up.

I took a few steps closer to her and rubbed her arms with some vigor to warm her up. She looked up at me, shyly. I liked her coy look of surprise.

“Thank you.” She took a step closer and used me as a shield from the wind, shaking out a shiver. I wrapped my arms around her petite frame. Her mother was right...she had lost some weight. Maybe a few pounds, but nothing to be too alarmed by.

“You’re so warm,” she moaned, resting her head against my shoulder.

You’re so warm and... “You smell good,” which I had no intention of blurting out. But yeah... that happened.

“You do too.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. “And you have been working out,” she teased in this low, raspy voice. I guess she could feel the little bit of muscle I picked up. “We should work-out together,” Michonne suggested.

“You wanna work out with me?” I asked, curiously looking down. She nodded, catching my gaze.

“Yep. I want to.” She hugged my waist tighter. “I bet the girls are all over you at the gym.”

She had a point. When I worked out, girls would approach me. Some shy, making casual conversation. Others were direct and flirted openly, offering me their numbers. But I turned them all down. “Not really..." She gave me a look. Be honest. " Yeah, well sometimes, but I could say the same thing. Guys probably drool at your feet everywhere you turn.”

“They do.” Her smile was more of a co*cky sneer. My ass instantly became jealous. “But all I want to do is model. Nobody ever gets my attention. No one. I don’t pay anyone any attention either.” She stared at me, and I was quiet. I didn’t know what to say.

The Uber pulled up as we embraced and I secretly cursed the driver in my head because I didn’t want to let her go, but I had to. Michonne felt the same way apparently, as she was reluctant to look towards the car.

“The Uber’s here,” I said.

“I know.” She looked away towards the car.

“Well, we should get in.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Michonne turned and I followed her, reaching for the car door.

“After you.” I opened the door for her.

She smiled. “Such the gentleman.”

“I try to be one," I offered.

“You do,” she looked up at me again as I slid in beside her. “You are,” she whispered.

Damn. I just...damn…

I couldn’t even say anything to her. She honestly took the ability to speak away from me. Michonne scooted over and her eyes never left mine.

“Hey guys! Welcome to my ride.” The driver turned her head and waved to both of us. She offered us some water and snacks but we both turned her down.

“So, how are you two doing this cool evening?” The driver asked as she pulled away from the curb.

“We’re fine. It’s been a good night,” Michonne said, scooting as close to me as she could. I held out my hand, palm up, and she grabbed it, placing it in her lap.

She exhaled with a little kitten-like moan. I think our silence this time was from being tired. She’d flown right in and didn’t get any rest. I’d been up all day. I yawned for a quick second then looked down at Michonne who felt heavier against me now. I heard her little snores, and it tickled me.

Michonne only snored like that when she was exhausted.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Rick Grimes’ studio. Woowwwww. It still looks the same. Felt like it’s been forever since I came over here.” Michonne said as she walked through the door.

“Yeah...it’s been a while.” By some miracle, I had cleaned my apartment a couple of days ago and put all of the magazines in a nice little stack by my computer desk. I also put all of my paintings away in a corner, just so I could get in the mood to edit all of the wedding photos. Only the easel and a few brushes were left out. I took my suit jacket off and draped it over my arm. “You wanna watch tv? Listen to some music? I got a few albums I’ve been wearing out that are pretty good.”

Michonne didn’t really try to look around and instead headed straight for the couch. She plopped down and let out a big sigh. “I think I still want some quiet. I have a lot of thoughts running wild and don’t want to drown them in music.”

“Okay, that’s cool.” I started to feel like a nervous teenager on his first date again. My hands were sweaty, and I wanted to seem cool and calm...like her presence being in my apartment again wasn’t a big deal. I sat down beside Michonne, tossing my jacket over the back of the chair, and wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs.

“I didn’t drool all over your jacket, did I? My bad if I did. I was not expecting to fall out like that.”

“Nah, you’re good. You wanna lay in my bed?” Oh, sh*t. “I mean, you know, if you’re tired and not with me. No...I mean I’ll sleep on the couch, and you have the bed to yourself.”

You bumbling fool, Grimes.

“No," she giggled. "I’m fine now. I just needed a power nap. Buttttt...can I get comfortable? Do you mind if I take my shoes and sweater off?”

“Nope. Go ahead.” And I didn’t mind at all. It felt weird of her to ask, when she used to just come straight in and get comfortable. Michonne must have felt exactly like I did...oddly out of place.

Michonne took her sweater off and then went for the zipper on the back of her boot. It looked like it was stuck on something, but she got it down with ease after a second try. I nearly fainted when she pulled the boot off to show me a thigh high stocking in the same cream color of her shirt. Keep it cool, Grimes. You’ve been a gentleman all night. But hell, if I didn’t feel the Devil lurking in my other ear whispering to me in this sinister voice, look at the creamy, delicate skin just poking out. Don’t you want to touch her there?. Touch it, Rick…touch it…touch it...

“Damn it. My thigh highs have a snag in them.” I looked at her angle her leg to see the damage.

Touch That Leg, Rick.

“Um, you want something to drink?” I said popping up off the couch. I startled her some and she giggled, looking mildly confused.

“Uhhh. Surreeeee. What you got?”

I was sweating. Could she see my sweat? “Apple Juice. Oh, some homemade sun tea I fixed the other day. Um...and Daryl bought me some wine a few weeks ago.”

“Red or white?” She crossed her legs after she took off the second boot and sat back, nestling into the cushions of my couch.

Look at her Rick...just look at those beautiful legs.

“Uh...white...no it's red. Red!” I began to confuse myself. Michonne’s look of confusion appeared again and she stared at me.

“Are you alright? You’re sweating pretty bad. You look like you need me to get you something to drink.”

“I’m good. I promise, I’m fine.” I wiped my forehead.

She hesitated. “Okay. You sure?”

“Yeah.” I paused before walking off to make sure I knew exactly what she wanted again. “So, red wine is fine?”

“Can’t go wrong with that.” She reached for her phone and scrolled through her notifications. She frowned at something and then put her phone away. I decided to go get her the glass of wine, and though I hadn’t had a drink in two months, I needed one, too. I opened the bottle and poured a large glass for myself and quickly chugged it down.

I really f*cking needed it.

Chapter 21: Nothing Compares

Chapter Text

Nothing Compares

After talking for a little and catching up more, she insisted that we go out to the escape. I gave her some slippers I had gotten recently and helped her climb out the window.

“Being a gentleman again I see.”

“Always.” I said as she made her way over to the railing.

She tossed her locs to one side and looked across the street. “Where are the two guys who stay up arguing? I miss them.”

“They come out around 7 and 8 in the morning now. And they are quite friendly to be honest. I’ve spoken to them on my morning runs.”

“You’re running in the mornings and working out?”

“Yeah…I normally run to the gym. Sometimes Glenn meets me there. One rare time Daryl joined me and complained the whole damn time.”

She laughed. “Remember that time we ran around Brooklyn Park, and he was so over it?”

I joined in on her amusem*nt. “I hated running, too. Just did it for you.” I looked at her quickly then turned my head. “But yeah...Daryl’s still the same. Except he smokes less and less now. He’s almost to where he doesn’t need cigarettes.”

“That’s Sasha’s doing. She told me that she asked him if he’d cut back and he said he’d try,” Michonne explained, and I stood next to her.

“The things we do for the people we love.” I looked at her this time catching her gaze...she bashfully looked down at the street.

“Yep,” she agreed. “So, what’s a normal day? What’s your schedule?...You wake up, run to the gym…”

I nodded. “And then I take a different route back home. I might stop and get something from a food truck to get some quick energy. Maybe stop by the newsstand to get…”

Oh sh*t, Rick. You gonna tell her. No, I didn’t want to tell her.

“To get what?”

Oh, just about every magazine with you in it that ever comes out. “Oh, just the newspaper. Maybe a few magazines that interests me. Not much. I met a nice guy from my part of Georgia, named Morgan. We chat for a bit, then I head home. Take a shower...get on social media...I might paint for a few hours some days. Just a really boring day.”

“Doesn’t sound boring. Sounds like how my days used to be...go for a run...paint for hours. Teach the kids. Awe man...I miss my kids at the center. I gotta visit them. Maybe I’ll see them tomorrow. But anyway, now it’s just sleep for a few hours for me. Eat when I can. Go on shoots for hours upon hours, then I might get on social media just before I pass out to do it all again.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is, but I enjoy it for the most part. It’s different... Soooo?” She looked around change the subject. “Are you gonna show me what you’ve been painting?” Michonne grew excited, bumping her hip into mine. I tried to hide my smile. She really wanted to see, and I really didn’t want to show her. I had the paintings in a corner and prayed she didn’t see them.

And I didn’t want to show her, because… "Maybe later. I’m kind of embarrassed by them. That’s why I’m a photographer, I’m a lot better at that.”

“Then you should start working again at photography. Your name gets brought up often when I travel. Everyone always wants to know about who the elusive Rick Grimes is.”

“I get that. I do. At one point I wanted to be the famous photographer everyone wanted to nab. But when the opportunity came I became a hermit and wanted to stay where I’m comfortable. I’m not as open to change as you are. Or as adventurous as you are...I like my solitude.”

We both looked at one another and she nodded. “And I get that and believe it or not but I’m not too keen to change. And maybe you don’t have to be this photographer who frequents major events and is plastered all over social media. But don’t give up on giving the world beautiful things to gaze upon.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “What you do, I’ve never seen it done before. No one can do exactly what you have done for me. And I bet your paintings are spectacular too. I need to see them. You just have this eye for everything...for the human form especially. You see stuff in people that they don’t even see in themselves. You saw it in me.”

When she spoke to me about anything that dealt with my craft, she gave me more confidence than I ever gave myself. “Thank you,” was all I could say.

A pleasant silence came over us and she never let my hand go, interlocking her fingers between mine. I looked at our hands tangled together and caught her look at me and smile, which made me do the same thing back.

“I want some more wine. You want some more wine?” Michonne asked turning to me.

“Sure.”

She perked up. “Okay. I’ll go pour us some. I have this theory that if I get you drunk enough maybe you’ll share your paintings with me?”

“Maybe," I teased.

“Can I change that maybe into a firm, yes?” she prodded.

“Maybe," I said in a deeper voice. I felt the corners of my mouth tug up into a smile.

She put her hand on her hip. “A challenge. I like challenges.”

“Me too.”

“I bet.” Michonne started to climb back through window and just before she walked off, I called for her.

“Hey, Michonne?”

“Yes, Rick.” She expertly twirled her body around in those brown slippers I loaned her.

“I don’t want anything about us to be challenging. I don’t want it to be easy either, but I want it...whatever it is.”

The softest look came over her. “Hey...Rick Grimes?”

“Yeah.” She kicked her foot against the tiny grates where she stood on the escape.

“You got some kind of way with words...” Michonne twirled back around and climbed through the window. The same feeling came over me like it had all night.

I missed everything about her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So, are you drunk enough to show me some of your paintings?” she asked again.

I patted my face, pretending to measure my drunkenness. “Nah, I think you got a while to go before you take advantage of me.”

Laughing, she put her wine glass down on the table, and touched my knee. “I would never take advantage. I would want you to be willing to show me.” Her voice went softer than normal, and I felt something stirring deep in the pits of my stomach. And other places.

Michonne winked at me and got up, heading to the area where she would always paint. “So, are you going to show me?” She crossed her legs and stood in the sexiest pose ever with her hand on her hips. "Or do I have to beg?”

I sat my empty wine glass down and followed her to where she stood. “No need to beg.” Our eyes met for the millionth time tonight and each time felt different. This time I didn’t feel awkward. This time I felt…

“Well, let me see?” She sexily co*cked her head to the side and gave me the tiniest smile.

So, I smiled back at her, running my hands through my hair and let out a nervous breath. “Okay...but don’t judge me…” I warned. She held up her hands.

“No judgement from me. I promise. I’m already so supportive.” I looked at her one last time before I walked over to where all of my canvas’ were in the corner.

“Okay, here they go...” I motioned with my head for her to come over and she happily pranced over to me, behaving like a giddy child again.

“I’m so anxious to see what Rick Grimes, artist extraordinaire, pulled off this time.”

She picked up a canvas of the Brooklyn Bridge that I painted. One day I went walking on it and it was in my head for the longest. I don’t know why, but it just was. Michonne complemented the painting, saying it was very impressive, and that she didn’t know I had this technical skill.

“But then again, it’s you I’m talking about.” She joked. “Rick Grimes can do everything.”

“Thanks. And not everything. You paint better than I do.

” I watched her pick up another one I did when I was just trying to clear my head...some painting of a storefront with a couple walking by or something. It wasn’t that great, but again Michonne insisted it was. She did this two more times, looking at some random thing I breezed through painting.

“Oh…the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island...that was a fun day.” She seemed to start reminiscing about the past.

“One of the best days I’ve ever had with you,” I said. Michonne looked like she wanted to smile. She did eventually. That’s when she reached for one of the larger canvas’, lifting it up up put it on the easel. I started to freak out, sweat seeping from my pores again.

But an excited Michonne paid me no mind and uncovered the sheet I had over it. That’s when the smile left her face.

“Is...is this?”

“Yeah.” I quickly answered.

“This is me. You painted me?” She took a step back and soaked it all in. Looking back between me then the painting, she now stepped closer to it to examine its detail. Michonne ran her fingers across the canvas.

So, here’s the deal...when drawing landscapes and national landmarks no longer did it for me; when people and dogs couldn’t keep my attention, I started to work on a piece featuring her. I hadn’t taken any new pictures of Michonne and thought about her constantly. No picture from the magazines did her justice. None of them.

“When you left Michonne, damn...I missed getting the simplest form of you. Those magazines... I feel like there are hundreds of versions of you and none of those photographers were capturing you right. I’d buy a magazine just to see if they’d finally got you how I imagined you are. Soft...vibrant, bold, sexy... simple,” I listed off all the things my camera saw. “I knew I couldn’t take your picture anymore, so I’d decided to paint you.”

Michonne was quiet for a while and suddenly she said, “This is really beautiful, Rick. Really beautiful.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she wiped her eyes really quick.

“You think so?” She nodded vigorously and kept studying the painting, never looking at me.

“Yep...the detail. The etching of my face and the colors...muted browns but bright at the same time. The way my lips look. My eyes...jeez, Rick...it’s almost as if you can see through my eye. I don’t know if that makes sense, but-”

“Brown open windows...into a soul of peace…I told myself I wouldn’t fall again...but I’m just going to brace myself, for the plunge…”

Still, without her turning to face me, I could see a smile. “My poem from that night at the open mic,” she said amazed I repeated it.

“Yeah. The first time I’ve ever seen you perform.” I thought about that poem often and resorted to watching the video just to get a glimpse of her on my drunkest night. She’s what I saw the most in my dreams. This version of her. The most beautiful of eyes...the most gorgeous of lips. When she finally faced me, she had the biggest look of astonishment on her face. The silence deafened me.

“You want some more wine?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” she softly said.

“Okay.” I left her by the painting, and she went back to looking at it. I grabbed our wine glasses from off the table and went into the kitchen, my heart beating furiously in my ears.

Hold it together, Grimes. You are doing good.

I had to agree with myself as I reached for the wine bottle that didn’t have much left in it. Michonne finally came from the other side of my studio and opened the refrigerator. She seemed different right now. Happier...I guess.

“Look at you with more than just pancakes in the fridge. Juice, fresh veggies...fruit. Okay...I see you, Rick.” Michonne turned around and gave me impressed nods before closing the fridge.

“Yep. More than just pancakes. Though, I’m still really good at making pancakes for every meal. But instead of one box...I now have two boxes of mix.” I said holding up as many fingers.

“Mr. Big Stuff...Impressive,” Michonne mocked. She turned and leaned back against the kitchen counter. Her eyes were slightly lidded, the last two cups of wine she had started making her relax most likely. I felt relaxed, too. “I have missed you, Rick Grimes.”

I grabbed the wine bottle and finally poured us both some more, cutting my eye towards her. “I missed you, Michonne Turner. I missed my muse...I was waiting…”

“Waiting...on what?” She quietly asked.

“Waiting on Time to bring you back. For you to come back to New York. For us to just talk and hangout. I’ve just been waiting as patiently as I could.” I stopped pouring and never picked up my glass, I just stood in front of her. Michonne had to look at me...she had to see me, and her eyes never left mine. “We never get to this point where I say just how sorry I am and for you to know it’s real. That I really mean it.” I took in a deep breath, and let it out. “...I’m sorry about everything Michonne—“

“Rick don’t…” she interrupted, but I had to say this.

“No. I have to say this.” I needed to say it. She crossed her arms and played with her necklace, nervously fidgeting and not looking at me. “Last time you said it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. I never really apologized. I’m sorry for how I hurt you…for how it all happened. I really am.”

It hurt admitting that I did her wrong, because it was never my intention. It was all stupid and I was stupid for allowing it to happen. I never thought about Alexis ever...and Lori became a far distant memory that I repressed. But it felt good to say that to her. To have some time to understand where the fault in all of this was. She needed to know before we moved on further in time.

And I think what I said left her speechless. Well, it did because she just stood there, as if frozen by Time himself. “Are you okay? Maybe...I know you feel like…” but she didn’t let me finish before she took a step forward, her hand finding its way to my cheek. Without her boots on she was a lot shorter than I stood.

And for the longest I continued to wait for her to say something as she looked into my eyes; waited for her to say anything, but she only looked. It could have just been seconds that we stared at one another, or maybe minutes...I’m not sure.

Michonne tried to smile, but it kept disappearing after each attempt; only faint trembles of a one appeared. The warm tips of her fingers dragged slowly against my cheek, and I couldn’t stop looking into her brown, glistening eyes. I dragged my hand up and down her back, over and over, the sensation of touching her overwhelming and pleasing me all at the same time.

She closed her eyes once more, her head tilting to one side as a little breath of air escaped between her parted lips. Without even knowing it, I saw my other hand trace those pouty lips...lips that left their mark on me many times before. Colorful lips that stained the top of my finger as I dragged leisurely across them; I wanted to feel the steam of her breath while I painted their fullness.

I dreamed about her lips for days and nights on end and now I had the real canvas right here in front of me. “Can I kiss you?” I asked and her eyes slowly opened. I hoped she said yes. I prayed that she did.

I tried to read her thoughts. Tried to understand what that soft look of hers meant. And while I tried to understand, she took my hand that still rubbed her lips and stopped me. Michonne answered my question by raising up to meet my lips with her own, sweetly kissing me. Our lips brushed against one another, almost as if trying to remember where they fit best.

She kissed me softly even as she spoke. “I missed you, Rick. I know I didn’t act like it. I know it seemed selfish of me to just leave. I know...I know...but, I couldn't stay.” Michonne’s lips dragged against mine desperately and I pulled her closer into me.

“You needed space. I didn’t want that space, but....” Her lips hovered near mine.

“You’re not mad at me for leaving?” she murmured against my mouth, looking up into my eyes...waiting for an answer.

I wasn't mad. I was devastated. “It killed me when you left, but I wasn’t mad. Just really miserable.” She looked down, and I grabbed her chin, making her meet my gaze again. “But I’m glad you’re here with me. Right now.” And I kissed her, my lips crushing hers.

I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t breathe. My heart raced and I felt warm blood rushing all through my body, heating me up.

The taste of wine still covered her lips, and she tasted so sweet, like the most delicious dessert I ever had. I had no control over myself. I lost it. We sort of stumbled to the kitchen counter and I pushed her against it, kissing the side of her lips, her cheek. I placed kisses along her neck, and she allowed me to, leaning her head to the side.

I wanted to touch. Oh god. I wanted to touch her all over. She shook when my hands found her waist. She shook even more when the tips of my fingers dug into her sides. ”Mmmm...Rick. Damn, I missed this,” she moaned.

Michonne’s head fell back and her golden kissed locs draped behind her, allowing me more of her neck to suck on. My head pounded; I felt lightheaded and took in gulps of air just to not faint. Michonne’s breathing was heavier too, and her moans echoed around me.

“Rick…Rick....Rick...” She whispered my name over and over. Over and over. Just so many times.

“I need you, Michonne.” I pressed my body against hers, trapping her between me and the counter, and I knew she could feel how hard my dick was right now.

“Goddd.” Michonne trembled as if I tortured her, but I was tortured; touching her was torturing me.

“I need you, baby. I just need....” I found her chin, kissing her there, and my lips dragged upward to take hers again. My fingers skimmed over the bare, creamy skin left exposed on her thigh, and my hand had a mind of its own, inching higher and higher up that thigh and under Michonne’s skirt. I found the top of her panties and yanked them down, my fingers sliding slowly between her slit. She soaked the tips of my fingers, and my dick pushed against the fabric of my pants, wishing it could be where my hand was now.

Michonne leaned back against the counter, steadying herself because her legs shook so bad. “Godddd,” she moaned again, tossing her head back. Tiny screams left her throat as I massaged her cl*t, sliding my fingers in circles over it. I watched her lick her lips; saw them tremble as she blew out breaths of air.

“Michonne?” I whispered. She didn’t say anything. only shivered, her moans getting louder and louder, but not a word came from her mouth. Michonne moved her hips, grinding slowly against my hand, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

“Look at me, Michonne.” I moved my hand from out of her panties and gripped her thigh. I saw her chest rising and falling quickly. “Look at me, baby,” I begged. I wanted to look her in her eyes. I wanted to see her...I wanted her to see me. And when she finally did look at me…

Damn. There wasn’t a damn thing better than looking into her eyes. Then having her lips right across from mine. Then touching her somewhere right now...anywhere. It was real. She was the real thing. I looked at those magazines every f*cking day and it wasn’t the same. Michonne came back and she was here with me. “Nothing compares to you...not one damn thing. You hear me? Nobody else...just you...okay?” I was so emotional. I couldn’t explain all of the emotions coursing through me.

Her eyes glistened, and she choked on her words. “Rick...I--”

I stopped her words and kissed her harder. My mind wanted to hear what she had to say, but I felt like there was no time. That the Time would blow by, and she’d be gone again, and I would never get this chance.

Something took over her and she grabbed the buckle of my belt, feverishly trying to undo it. She unzipped my pants and stuck her hand in my boxers, just like I had done to her panties a few minutes ago. When her hand circled my dick and moved up and down, I heard this moan leave my throat that scared me.

Low...guttural...desperate...

I started to undo the buttons of her blouse, my hands shaking so bad that I nearly popped them off as I exposed the navy lace bra she wore. One side of her now open shirt slid down her shoulder and I kissed her there. I kissed her collarbone and further down until I found her breasts, skimming my lips over the soft fabric. Nipping at it...biting...licking. Her fingers ran through my hair...I loved when her fingers, cool to the touch, would touch my scalp. I inhaled her deeply, her perfume drifting off of her again.

Something took over me. I fell to my knees and pulled her now soaked underwear down, kissing the parts of her thigh left uncovered, running my hands over those silky thigh-high stockings. She stepped out of the underwear and put her hands on my shoulders...the entire time she trembled. I wondered if her blood boiled like mine. Did every single layer of her skin tremble beneath my touch?

Because I burned all over. I got up, dragging my hands along her hips and dug into her, lifting her somewhat onto the counter. Pushing her back, I heard a clink and noticed that Michonne bumped into the wine glass; it dripped down the edge of the counter and I didn’t give a f*ck right now.

Yeahhhh…something was taking over me as I moved my boxers and pants down. She reached out again to stroke my dick, her breathing becoming rough...hoarse like my own. I moved her closer, spreading her legs...my dick throbbing so much that I slid into her much quicker than I wanted to. Michonne gasped, pushing her hand against my stomach some. When I tried to pull out, she stopped me, grabbed my shirt and moved us closer together.

Her moans panted out almost like she was running out of air to breathe. “f*ck me, Rick,” she groaned, licking my lips. “Please don’t stop.”

And I grabbed her ass, plunging my aching dick deeper into her wet puss*, we both groaned. Michonne’s long legs wrapped around my waist, and she kissed me again, her tongue sliding between my lips...my tongue gliding over hers. She kissed me like I was the only one who could keep her breathing. She sucked all of the air away from me, and I let her.

Slow. I told myself. Don’t rush this, but her moans surrounded me. They filled my ears and it’s all I heard as I made love to her. That and her little whispers. “I missed you...oh, Rick, I missed you. You feel so good inside me. I haven't gave this puss* to anyone else. It's still yours. It's still yours."I lost my mind.

I f*cked her harder against the counter, and she was just so wet...so f*cking wet. My dick filled every single inch of her puss* and she grabbed onto my neck with both hands. I looked into her eyes and I saw it. I saw that love that probably had been there between us from day one.

“Me either. I'm still yours, Michonne...Godddd.” I grunted out and she nodded her head, her eyes glistening even more as if she might cry.

“Rick,” she said hugging me...squeezing me tighter. One of her hands drifted higher up my neck and she grabbed a handful of my hair.

Addiction...

They say it’s bad to be addicted to something or someone and maybe they were right. I thought I got sober. I thought I recovered, but I was addicted to Michonne, and how could I not be addicted to her…crave her...want the taste of her. I needed her to pump through my blood and make me feel alive again. She took over my thoughts...I was addicted.

Our moans mixed with one another...she dug her fingers into the back of my neck and all I heard was her voice. “I cumming, Rick...I’m about to cum…” said whimpered in a whisper. I could feel her wetness cover my dick, dripping over me...could feel her tightening around me, clinging to me.

She called for God; she called for me; and I called out her name.

I came so hard, pressing our bodies against the counter. I felt my legs getting weaker, but I locked them in place and held her there, still pumping inside of her. Michonne hung onto me, her moans getting shorter and louder, and I felt myself growling into her neck. We shook together, the same electricity ran through both of us.

I couldn’t move...she couldn’t move. Michonne's fingers played with the curls of hair at my neck as I rested against her, breathing like I just ran around the world to find her. Michonne’s long legs still wrapped around me; her chest rising and falling; her heartbeat matching the pace of my own. I knew I was crushing her with the weight of my body, but she didn’t say anything. We just were like this for minutes on end. I knew we couldn’t stay like this forever against the counter, but...she just felt so good.

She felt like home.

Chapter 22: Fooled Around and Fell

Chapter Text

Fooled Around and Fell

And here she was...in my bed, wrapped in my arms right where she felt the best. “I don’t think there was a night that I didn’t think of you.” I kissed her forehead. She stroked my face, her soft, delicate gaze making my heart stop.

“Really?” For as much confidence as she had, Michonne also had this vulnerability to her. I got why. Hurt. Pain. Heartache . What I felt when she left, that must have been how she felt when...all of this happened.

“Yeahhh...” My hand rubbed along her upper back. “...couldn’t get myself to bed or sleep at all. Especially at first.” I thought back to when some of the cheapest vodka drowned all my thoughts screaming at me. I had drunk so much sometimes that I’d pass out for hours, accomplishing nothing. Falling asleep on the floor, or in my editing chair. “Sometimes I just stare at my ceiling and the room would spin. If I didn’t throw up, that was the highlight of my night.”

“I just...never mind.” She laid back down on my chest.

“What?” I wondered.

She shook her head some. “I’m just such a romantic. I wish...I wish things just happened the way I dreamed they would…and not the way I know they will.”

“What do you mean?” I was a bit confused.

She propped up on her elbow, her tiny fingers splayed across my chest, rubbing a small patch of hair there. “I dream, you know...like, really dream. My mother says it’s the most cursed, beautiful thing about my mind. I dream things up and wish for them to exist. She joked around saying I dreamed you up, but there you were...you were real. I dream of romance…love…loyalty. A fairytale ending...”

Michonne looked away from me and I got where she was going. “You thought I was your dream guy, but I turned out to do what you knew I’d do...break your heart?”

“Right,” she agreed. I wouldn’t take offense. I had no reason to. I gently turned her face to mine.

“I didn’t know I had a dream girl. I didn’t know what I wanted out of being with a woman.” That was my truth, as well. I knew I wanted a girlfriend but didn’t realize all of the emotions that came along with being in a relationship. All the work. All the loyalty. Relationships was just more than sex and fun. It consisted of much more work. Not just the dreamy highs, but the stormy, ugly lows.

Michonne placed her head on my chest. “Did you ever figure it out? What you wanted from someone? What you want from me?

“I only know that if you’re not in my future, then it ain’t much that I’m looking forward to. I know it’s just you I see hitting all these milestones. All the ones that mean something. all the good with the bad...I only see that with you.” She popped her head up to look at me.

Damn her eyes, so soft and pretty right now. I wanted her again. She knew too, moving so that she could kiss me, but there was a knock at the door that interrupted us. “Just do what you were about to do...ignore that,” I urged.

She smirked, leaning closer in until the knocking became louder and consistent. Then Michonne’s phone started to ring, and she chuckled low. “Maybe you should get that. And I’ll get that.”

“Nope,” I pulled her closer to me. “You let that ring and I’ll let them knock until their knuckles bleed.” I tried to kiss her neck, but the knocking got louder.

“Get the door Rick.” She grinned and I growled in annoyance.

I motioned to her, “Just...don’t move. Stay beautiful and naked and sexy and kissable…” The person knocking was being ridiculous now.

“The door Rick!” she yelled with a laugh as the knocking continued.

I rolled out of bed, hurriedly put the pants I wore from last night back on and rushed to the door, all the while hearing her cute laugh. Damn I missed her.

I opened the door faster than I knew I could and stared at the drunk guy in front of me. Daryl .

“Bro. I called you a thousand times. Kept going straight to voicemail.” My tripod and bag lay at his feet. He seeped of liquor at what was now ten in the morning.

“Sorry, man. It’s probably in my jacket and I never got around to charging it.”

“What you doing?” He stuck his head in the door, and I blocked his view.

“Nothing?” I reached for my equipment, and he tried to look in the apartment again.

“Are those the Tom Ford navy-blue boots by your couch? I know those boots. All the women at the wedding talked about those boots.” He looked at me for a second and then smiled like a serial killer. “Michonne’s in there isn’t she. Michonne!” he yelled. “Hey, Michonne!”

I could hear her silly giggle from the back. “Hi Daryl!” she yelled in return.

“That’s really why you didn’t get to charging your phone. Make up sex keeping you busy?" He patted my chest as he handed me my smaller bag that held my camera. “You guys been up all night?”

“Shut up, bro. Looks like you been hitting it hard too.” I studied his haggard appearance.

Daryl had this proud dad look plastered across his drunk face. “My night was epic, bro. Hit some clubs with my girl, Aaron and Jesus and Arat came along too. But never mind that cause Richonne are back together.”

“It’s not...we haven’t...” Were we?

He looked at his phone. “Sasha’s texting me. I gotta go. She’s double parked...talk later. Later, bro.” He rushed away.

"Bye Daryl. Be careful going down the steps.” I said before closing the door.

“We’ve been outed, huh?” Michonne asked, faintly smiling as I approached her.

I put all my equipment down except for the camera, taking it out to inspect. “It seems that way...he noticed your boots. Apparently, everyone at the wedding talked about them,” I said. Michonne’s smile completely disappeared and she looked at her phone.

“What’s wrong? I don’t think they were saying anything bad.” I said, but she shook her head and played with the sheet.

“Carol’s gonna be calling you. She wants to see you today. I would be going too, but...I have to bump my plans up. I don’t know how I’m gonna chill with the girls and see my parents before I leave. Maybe I’ll go to my parents for a few hours, and then have everyone meet at my apartment.” Her voice got softer as she spoke to herself.

My brows furrowed a bit. “I thought you were staying a few days?”

“Yeahhhh, so I’ve been ducking calls and messages since last night, but I finally answered Carol’s. They are pushing the shoot up and I have to leave tomorrow morning…early morning. It’s really messed up my plans. I wanted to spend more time with you and my mom and Sasha. This is just...blah.”

I stood there holding my camera and just looked at her. I tried not to show my emotion. Was I disappointed? Yes. Absolutely. I wanted at least a day with it just being around each other, but...damn.

“It’s fine. You go to London, and you come back to New York when your job is over, and I’ll be here when you get back.”

“You’re not mad?”

Hold it together, Grimes. It’s not like she was just gone for three months, came back and now you’ll only see her for about 24 more hours. “No. It’ll be fine. You’ll only be away for a few weeks, right?”

“Right up until Thanksgiving. I think.”

That long? We have to be away from each other that long. “A month, basically?”

“Yeah.”

“Well...we’ll make it work.” I sat beside her on the bed and assured her it would be alright. I reached out and rubbed my fingers over hers.

“Okay…What if you come with me? To London?”

When she said that, I thought for a moment. I had no job. Nothing holding me here for the moment. But where would I sleep? She was staying with a group of girls, and I couldn’t afford to live in a hotel. I was barely keeping the rent up here, after taking so much time off. I expressed what I thought to her, and she agreed.

"You’re right.” I could tell she was upset.

“But we can make this work. I promise.” I tried to turn the conversation around. "But, hey. If you can get back here for Thanksgiving...would you? It’s just I’ve been telling my mom and sister that I’d go to Thanksgiving and since you know...I mean if you thought…”

She looked up at me and smiled. “I’d love to go to Thanksgiving dinner with your family.”

I was surprised. “Yeah?”

She nodded, sweetly. “Yeah...you met mine...why don’t I meet your parents.”

“What about your parents? Did you have something planned with them?”

“They’ll understand. It’ll be okay. I’ll just make sure I’m in Brooklyn for Christmas and really plan to be here in the city. I just…” She smiled and I wanted to know what she was thinking...what thoughts ran rampant in her mind, because she was all I could think about. “... I just want to see you when I get back.”

“Okay.” I reached over to rub her cheek. My muse returned to me. My angel. My Michonne.

And she looked angelic with her soft, vibrant skin against my stark white sheets. I still held my camera in my other hand and raised it up to take a shot of her.

“You have that look in your eye," she said.

“What look?” I asked moving my fingers from underneath hers so I could focus the lens. She grinned knowingly.

Michonne giggled. “Like you got an idea.”

I snorted, even though she was right. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh...I know Rick Grimes,” she assured.

“Do you, now?” I said, lifting my camera up to take another picture. She smiled and settled into the covers more, the stark white coating her chocolate skin.

“Oh yes, you see...Rick Grimes loves that camera. And I think when Rick Grimes has his muse in front of him, he can’t help but caress that camera.”

“Mmmm. Is that so?”

“Mmmhmmm. See how you got your fingers circled around that lens, holding it just so delicately, but firmly at the same time. You have a certain...touch. Did you know you lick your lips a lot more when you photograph me?” I shook my head and she continued, nodding seductively. “Your breathing picks up. You open up more. You somehow, see better when you are taking my picture.”

I grew interested in her observations of me. “Tell me what else I do.” It was starting to come back. It’s like we never let it go...t he intensity…the desire… I craved her, and she fed me.

“You stare at me like that. Like you want more than you're willing to say.” Michonne moved her locs out of her face, so I could see her better.

“I want more with you. I want everything that involves you.”

She seemed happily surprised and sat up. “I want you, too.”

I put my camera on the nightstand and laid down on her, and she fell back when I rested my head against her chest. This is what I wanted. To feel her heat. To rest against her soft skin. With each breath her chest rose and fell, and I felt her hands massaging my scalp. I heard her heart beating. Michonne soothed me...she rubbed little swirls in my hair and one finger circled my temple.

I just wanted her to do this forever.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Michonne would be leaving tomorrow to go back to London after tonight. I dreaded the hours passing us by. I mean, it made me sad now that I think about it.

She kind of blew off her plans to be with Sasha last night, and she had to see her girls and her parents before she left.

“But come to my apartment tonight,” she told me as she got dressed. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her movements. Delicate like a ballerina. Graceful. She walked over to me, bent down, and we hugged for a few seconds.

“You sure?” I asked looking up at her. “I don’t wanna intrude on your girl’s night.”

“Daryl will be there. I’ll be there.” I smiled and she smiled too, poking her finger deep into my side. “Again, I’ll be there," she said telling me, rather than suggesting.

“Owwww…Owwww…” I said as she stood between my legs. I stopped her assault by hugging her again, the fingers from her other hand playing in my hair.

The best f*cking feeling ever.

“You’ll be there you say. That’s tempting...I don’t know if that’s enough-" I started to say but she grabbed my hair and pulled my head back just enough so our eyes could meet. She kissed me once and then moved back.

“Don’t make me yank these beautiful curls out of your hair.”

“When’d you get so kinky? Hair pulling, stabbing me with your finger, sexily threatening me with kisses...I like it.” I grabbed her ass and lifted her up against me. The top of her breast sat perky, brushing my chest as she sat in my lap.

“I bet you do.” She kissed my forehead, then one of my eyebrows...the tip of my nose.

“Mmmm. But I like what you’re doing now too. Your lips on me.”

“You do, huh?” she licked the top then my bottom lip and I know she felt my dick.

“Yes ma’am, but if you keep doing that, you ain’t gonna be seeing no one today.” Michonne kissed my forehead again.

“Meet me tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You promise?” She looked in my eyes for assurance.

“I promise.” I told myself that I wasn’t going to promise her anything unless I meant it.

I meant that.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So, for the last few months you have been missing in action? I’ve tried to get Maggie to talk some sense into you, but alas, there wasn’t much she could do.” Carol sat back in her huge black roll-away chair; the height of the back made her look like a queen of some sorts.

“Well, I don’t want you to blame Maggie much for this. She tried her best, but my momma always says I’m a stubborn son of a gun.”

Carol chucked and twiddled her thumbs together. “Well...how are things with Michonne? I know you saw her at the wedding. Oh...now...don’t go get all red on me now,” she told me. I’ll admit that I felt ten times better since she’s been back.

“Um...we’ve been talking again…” And f*cking like rabbits. “She has to go to London tomorrow…I know you knew that, but-.”

“Yes...time in the world of fashion is precious.” Carol got out of her seat and made the way to the front of her desk to sit on its edge in front of me. “But you know, Rick...you are a talented man. The way you see beauty in other things, it is a sight to behold. I remember seeing those pictures of Michonne from the gallery initially and being absolutely blown away.”

“Is that right?

“Oh, absolutely so. And I remember thinking, ‘this artist needs exposure. This mans who captures life like this , well...that’s something special.” Carol stood back up and began to circulate the room. My chair didn’t allow me to follow her, so I turned in my head as she walked slowly back and forth. “I have a proposition for you. I have a couple of jobs lined up for you. I’ll go into that in more detail, but it’s a necessity that you are a fixture here at this magazine. I want you comfortable here at Vogue. I want you to want to be here… as a legitimate member of the team.”

“Full time?” Was she offering me a... job? On the staff? Maggie said she wanted me, but I was just...depressed.

“Yes.” She walked away and began to pace the larger space off to the side, her fingers tapping together in an arch. “I want you on my team, Rick. You have entirely too much talent for you to be just...peddling around out there aimlessly in the wind. For some competitor of mine to steal you away. Jesus...your talent. It’s something I’ve never seen before and let’s just say...I’ve been around.” Carol paused her back and forth pacing and smiled at me. “What do you say Mr. Grimes? Whatever you want. I’ll give you. Name your price.”

I sat and thought for a minute. My price? What I wanted... “I don’t...know what I want.”

“Well...you must figure it out. But sooner than later. As for more immediate work, I want you to shoot a few of my celebrity clients for the First three issues of the New Year. We have Rihanna again for January and Michonne will be featured in our February issue so far. We also want to do a mini feature on you...turn it into a featured spread for Michonne during that same month. Might get a few pics with you and her in front of the camera maybe, cause you are an attractive man yourself. I’m thinking reds and whites and pinks. I want the colors exploding everywhere. And I need you for this. Help me with my vision and say you’ll do this."

I thought for a moment. Rihanna...other celebrities...a full-time job with benefits. This was all better than I had expected. And working with Michonne again...I really wanted to, but I wasn't sure. Michonne was getting work just fine without me…would she want to do a shoot for a magazine with me again? We just were getting our footing back. I was thinking about going to London off and on today. Maybe I could swing it, but...

“I don’t want to say yes…but…I don’t want to say no either.”

“Then say Yes. I’d love to have you more full time here but giving me a “yes” on the February cover is what I really need at the moment. You give me that...we'll discuss the rest in time.”

What harm could come of this...and you do need the money. You are very, very broke. And Michonne would understand.

“I’ll do the one cover. I’ll think about the other jobs.” What’s there to think about? Are you crazy? Those thoughts ran through my mind and suddenly realized that I was afraid of this commitment. That I’d have to get my sh*t together and really work somewhere, because I was just used to working on my own, following my own directions. But I couldn’t pass this opportunity up. Steady work. Doing what I love. I’d be an idiot. “You know what, I’ll take the job offer, too. I'll join your staff.”

Carol smiled. “Oh, Rick. You don’t know how happy you just made me because you are more than just some photographer, you are really an artist and I just...I’m glad you are joining us here at Vogue .” She walked over to her desk and sat down again fumbling through a few business cards. “This is Elaine Newman from HR. You don’t have to rush, and she’ll get you on board with all that benefits and payroll stuff...again...her department.”

“Thank you, ma'am," I said, amazed I finally got out of my slump.

“No, thank you. You are just what this magazine needs. A fresh new perspective. Come see me this Thursday at 4pm and I’ll get you acclimated with a few of the staff members here.” She looked at her phone and her eyes got wide.“Oh, Ezekiel's not going to be happy I have him waiting downstairs for our lunch date.”

“Oh, okay, yeah. Get to your husband. And I’ll see you later this week.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon.” Carol's assistant brought her things, and she quickly put on her leather jacket and black sunglasses, then grabbed her purse. I held her door open for her and felt my phone vibrating. I didn’t recognize the phone number, but it was an area code from King County.

“Hello,” I answered, walking down the bright hallway.

“Well. Don’t you sound like a damn Yankee . Rick f*cking Grimes. How the hell you been brother?”

“Shane?” I said amazed to hear his voice. He must've got a new number.

“Yeah, man. It’s me. Mellie gave me ya number not too long ago, cause I lost my old phone, and I finally got around to calling ya.”

It was good to hear his voice. “Wow. It’s...damn. I haven’t seen you in years, man. How are things going?”

“sh*t’s good, Rick. Working with ya sister has been a hoot. She’s just so f*cking funny. Never realized how funny she was till we started working together.”

“Oh, she’s not trying to beat you up anymore for calling her ginger and the million other things you call her when we hung out.”

“Nah, man. Mellie’s got a gun and I’ll know she’ll shoot me if I rag on her too hard now.”

“I believe it. Wouldn’t put it past Mel.”

Shane laughed and breathed hard at the end. “Yep, Rick. Your sister is something else. She tell me you coming down this way for Thanksgiving. That true?”

“Yeahhhh. Should be down that way. Well, I done promised my momma, so I know she’ll have a fit if I don’t come.”

“Yeah...her and Bill. He been telling everyone in the department that you coming back. Been talking about it for a few weeks now and it’s more than a month out til the damn day.”

“Bullsh*t. Pop could care less if I was coming or not.” And that’s the truth.

“Nah, I’m serious. Folks always talking bout you down here. Not too many celebrities come from the County, ya know.”

“Bullsh*t.” I said again. He started laughing, louder and louder.

“Shoot, Rick. You still a funny motherf*cker like your sis. But, uh. Let me get off of this damn phone. Mellie coming back to the car with our coffee and we bout to head into the station. But now you got my number. Save it and shoot the sh*t with me. I ain’t got much going on but work. It’ll be nice to catch up from time to time.”

“Okay, Shane. I’ll do that.” We exchanged a few more words before hanging up. I hadn’t seen him in a few years. Maybe two years or so. He’d just got back from duty and then joined the sheriff’s department. I was just really getting out of Art school. Mellie let me know what was happening with him from time to time, but we had our own lives now.

I’d call him again when I got the chance.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We stayed up all night with each other at her apartment. All of her friends were there including Aaron and Jesus, who were sitting close to one another. Seeing them together made me ecstatic for Jesus. He was just an all-around nice guy who deserved some happiness.

I just wanted to get as much time in as I could. We just did normal stuff: watched some tv, ate dinner, she washed a few of her things and packed them up, but the entire time she seemed sad. I didn’t want her to be. Modeling was her calling right now and she was making major moves, yet I wanted her here as much as she wanted to be here. There seemed like there wasn't enough time because there wasn't...she would be leaving again soon.

After I helped her pack, and we went out onto her stoop. It wasn’t cold tonight. It actually felt really nice outside. “Jesus said they are finally doing the video to Girls World. They still want me to do it. Did Daryl tell you they were going to London for a performance, a couple of other European cities, too. They are going to shoot the video when they get to London.”

During my slump, I didn't keep up much with Daryl and the gang. “I didn’t know that. I thought all the girls would be in the video.”

“Yeah, they got some shots with them already in New York...said they'll do my part in London. We’ll see how well I’ll do in this video. That’s another on the list.”

I was happy for Cherokee Rose and Michonne. “I’m sure you’ll be good at it.”

“My last night here for a month. Sorry I gotta leave you again, Brooklyn. This trip home was entirely too short.” Michonne yelled up at the moon her, arms resting on my thighs as she sat between them. “And I’m really happy you got the job at the mag, but that just means you can’t come to London with me. I was gonna ask you to come along.” Earlier I’d told her and Daryl that I’d been offered a more permanent position at Vogue . It made sense now why she seemed so down earlier.

“Maybe after I get things settled in over at Vogue, I can come out to London,” I said, offering a little hope.

“Maybe...You gonna miss me?” She leaned her head back and looked up at me as I looked down to her.

“Of Course, Michonne. You gonna miss me?”

“Yep...right up until I see you again.”

She turned just enough to face me, leaning forward and kissing me, her hands steady, grabbing the fabric of my shirt. I instantly wanted her again. We still had a few more hours before her ride got there. “Let’s go to your room?” I moaned against her lips. I heard the faintest of moans leave her and she shuddered some.

“Okay,” she softly said, and I helped her up.

I needed to get as much of her as I could, before the sun came up.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“This ain’t nothing, babe. We did three whole months of not seeing each other before.”

She pouted. “Before we barely talked to each other and…”

“This time is different. This time we both know that nothing or no one is coming between us...well, maybe our jobs, but this comes with the job. You traveling the world like a celebrity. Me, the adoring fan who waits for you.”

“You waiting for me?” She prodded. I knew why.

“Yep. You’re stuck with me now. I done fooled around and fell in love with you. Never stopped loving you.”

She wiped the tears that were forming even with her smile. “You love me...for real?" she looked up and I wiped those slow tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“Seems like the gist of it. I’m stuck with you, and you’re stuck with me. And I know I love you. I know it," I simply said.

She grinned. “I need to check-in, go through security, then walk all the way to the gate. Uggghhhh. I don’t want to go.”

“I don’t want you to, either.” I kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. “Don’t cry.” I told her when the tears started to fall once more.

“I can cry if I want to,” she laughed and wiped the tears running down her face. I took my hand and again wiped a few away that she missed.

Suddenly I was choking up too, trying to smile through it. “You...uh...you call me as soon as you land, okay?” I said, straining to talk.

“Okay.” She nodded and tried to smile, holding my hand cupped against her cheek, then she moved that hand to kiss it. “Let me get to the counter. I love you, too, Rick.”

Her saying it too made me smile. “I love you. I bent low and kissed her shoulder. “I need you.” I kissed her chin. I started to hum that song. That song that always stuck with me when it came to her and sung it to her. “I need your soft voice, that talked to me at night. I don't want you to worry, baby. I know we can make everything alright.” A single tear fell from the corner of her eye, and I wiped it away, then kissed where the tear dampened her skin.

Her voice was shaky when she started to sing, finishing the line for me. “Listen to my plea, baby, bring it to me...because I need your love so bad.”

I kissed her lips. “Because I need you so bad.” I said again, and we parted. She picked her bags up and walked towards the security gate. Slow at first, then she turned to wave at me.

And I was missing her already.