Sweet Damnation (Richonne Lemon One-Shots)

Write Or Wrong

In an alternate universe, Rick and Michonne are married with children couple, having a tête-à-tête about their current situation.

Rated PG-13

"Still not finished...." Rick's voice was laced with annoyance as he reluctantly trod into the study that Friday evening.

Michonne could hear the frustration in his tone. She tore her eyes away from the computer screen for a moment to confirm her assumption and then resumed her work.

"Not yet." Michonne surrendered a reply. Unable to stop her fingers from languidly, swiftly typed on the keyboard. "On the final chapter."

He narrowed his eyes in irritation while letting out a long exaggerated sigh, "I'll believe that when I see it. She turned away from her desk and strode towards the door. "In the meantime, I'll be doing stuff...things...alone... He cynically added. "Lemme knows if ya need me..."

Rick had seen enough, bitterness tore through him as he headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Like every night for several months, he'd eat dinner alone and fall asleep in an empty bed.

"As a matter of fact..." Michonne causally retorted, still tapping on her laptop. Her eyes were unfaltering from the computer screen.

He wanted to walk away, but curiosity would not allow it. He stood, unmoving in the doorway. A cold silence fell upon the room. He tightly folded his arms across his chest, waiting as patiently as he could for his wife to respond. After a few long moments of typing on her keyboard, she lightly closed the notebook. Her warm brown eyes peered affectionately into his icy blue.

"I need help with a title."

"Really..." he curtly scoffed. "Now you need my help...Do you even realize, you've been working on this goddamn book for months and I don't even know what hell it's about?"

"You never asked." She said, noticing his attitude and taken aback by his cold demeanor. "You seem to have lost interest in the first novel." She couldn't deny that his lack of attentiveness saddened her. Now the realization hit her like a brick; his aloofness is actually contempt.

"Of course I was interested." He shouted, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. "You shut me out!" He paced the floor in an attempt to calm himself. "I've felt invisible for months," He murmured angrily, his head hung low.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Michonne uttered between clenched jaws, "You know I want you a part of this second book, just as much as, if not more than you were for the first."

"I thought this writing stuff would be out of your system after the first book." Rick shook his head in disbelief.

"Really...that's what you thought" Michonne tersely sneered, unable to contain her dejection. "After working on my first book for almost a decade, finally getting published, selling a million copies, and making it to the best sellers list, I was just supposed to just stop right there and return to being your housewife, fetching slippers and beers for you...hmmm?"

"Not fetching," Rick mumbled. "Just back to normal." Rick scratched his head, ruffling his dark waves out of place.

He loved it when his sexy Michonne brought him a beer after a succulent dinner. His mind recalled how natural and lovely she looked, barefoot, dressed in tiny little cut-off shorts and a barely-there tank top. The couple sat on their citronella candlelit porch, rocking in the swing for hours on a warm summer night. Soft music set the perfect mood while the couple exchanged about current events, laughing at things no one else would get. But what captivated Rick most was the fact he and his beautiful wife could sit without a word spoken. Yet somehow they both knew what the other was feeling.