Artistically inspired- love, humor, romance, drama, and lots of sexy, one-shots involving Rick and Michonne (aka RICHONNE). Some stories are set in the ZA, Expect some A/U or A/H... (The Walking Dead) characters may be OOC at times. Collectively rat...
A/N: PREVIEW ONLY - please go to my FF or AO3 for the updates /complete story. BLKGURLSMUSE on both sites!
April 2006- Michonne Micheals is a 30-something successful professional, in search of her happily-ever-after. Rick Grimes is a 35-year old living big and rich in his single life. What happens when a little fate and something else intervenes?
She woke to a pounding headache, her entire body felt like she'd been ridden hard and put away wet. Her head throbbed and she ached all over. Her mind was slowly clearing as she stretched, yawned, and looked around, confused. She was clearly in someone else's hotel room; she didn't own anything valuable enough to pay for what this room had to have cost.
Where the hell am I?
She tried her best to remember how she ended up in what had to be the penthouse of a five-star hotel and why she felt so damn awful.
She slowly sat up in the King size bed, her completely nude body wrapped snugly in the soft white sheets; she rubbed her sleepy eyes..."Ouch!" something on her finger scratched her face, "Oh my god," she gasped, on her hand –a huge diamond! It's blinding shine like the sun's light shot through it made her heart clench in advance It was polished and cut to perfection. Thoughts flew in her head, her stomach churned, and her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the ring, the big beautiful ring.
What had she done last night? This crazy shit happens to Andrea, not her. She was starting to hyperventilate when she heard a deep chuckle come from the door to the bathroom.
"Michonne..."
She turned to see a gorgeous man standing in the doorway, shirtless and wet. He had thick, dark curly hair and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen...wrapped in a towel that showed off his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and washboard abs...he was stunning. He had a slight smirk on his chiseled face, and she got distracted from her panic for just a second. Her eyes did that tennis match thing, flying back and forth from the ring to the man, and back again.
She put her hand over her mouth to cover a sob, or a scream before it came out.
"Michonne, just take a deep breath," he said softly. He kept his eyes on hers as he walked over to the bed and sat next to her. He had some calming influence over her, and she looked back at him, waiting for him to tell her it was a dream.
But he couldn't. He'd woken up and had the same 'Oh, shit!' moment, but then it had all come back. That had been about an hour ago. He'd lain in bed next to her, going over the events from the day before, and he actually felt at ease.
He wasn't a man who really rushed into things, but he was certainly a man who made decisions swiftly and with precision. If he'd married the sleeping beauty in his bed, no amount of tequila would have forced his hand if he hadn't really wanted to do it.
He ordered breakfast, made some coffee, took a shower, and prepared himself for her reaction while he tried to decide what he could say that would help her realize that it would all work out.
She blinked at him, and a fat tear rolled down her cheek. He reached up and smoothed it away with his thumb. She looked at him questioningly, "Rick?"
He nodded with a smile and tucked her braid behind her ear.
"What happened...Did we...oh lord... did we get married?"
He took her hand in his and tried to keep her calm with his eyes.
"Yes, we did," he said evenly. "Yes. We got married last night. How much do you remember?"
She blinked, even more, looking like the sweetest owl he'd ever seen. "But..." she started. "But, I...I don't...I don't do..."
"You don't do this sort of thing, Andrea does," he finished.
Her eyes got a little wider, "Oh my God. How do you know that?"
He laughed a little, "You told me last night, darling." He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, breathe in her scent and reassure her, but he knew it was too soon. "I tried to tell you we could wait, we shouldn't rush, but you weren't having it. You said we didn't need to wait because you knew we should get married. You didn't really explain what you meant by that...but you were certain of it..." he said, drifting off, the fun he had last night was one for the books.
She tilted her head slightly, puzzled; she had said that she knew, but did she? He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb as she studied him. "Michonne, you're okay...It's going to be alright. We'll figure it out, together."
His voice seemed to soothe her soul as he spoke. She felt her breathing even out and her whole body felt in tune, but her memory was foggy. She pulled her hand away slowly and stood, dragging the sheet with her. She stopped for a second, looking lost in the huge room. She smelled coffee and sighed, going over to the table, lifting the pot with shaky hands to pour herself a cup. She took a small sip and not a second later, there was a slide show playing in her head, and she was trying to piece some of it together.
"Andrea wasn't there when we got married, was she?" she asked hesitantly, feeling like she already knew the answer.
"No, she broke the girlfriend-rule, that was pretty much how we met."
She nodded and moved the sheer curtain at the window, seeing the Bellagio hotel fountains. At least she was in the right hotel.
But this view...Good Lord, I know this room must cost a fortune.
She took another sip of coffee, this one much bigger than the previous, and looked back at her new husband. Her heart skipped a beat when their eyes met.
My God, he's gorgeous.
She sighed, sipped, and continued to gradually sift through her foggy memories.
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