You had spent the last six years inside Alexandria, the rhythm of life here both comforting and suffocating. Every corner of the walls, every garden patch, every familiar face reminded you of the life you’d built while the world outside remained uncertain. You moved among routines and duties as if they were second nature, yet there was always a quiet ache you couldn’t name.

Michonne walked through the community with the weight of leadership pressing on her shoulders. Her presence was undeniable, her eyes sharp, scanning the surroundings for danger and for hope alike. She carried herself with a kind of certainty that made people feel safe and challenged at the same time.

You had grown close to her over the years, helping where you could, speaking when asked, but always careful. Feelings had quietly taken root.. something deeper than friendship, more complicated than admiration.. but you knew she was tethered to Rick, a shadow lingering in the corners of her thoughts.

One late afternoon, golden light spilling across the garden, you found her tending the small vegetable patch. Dirt smudged her fingers, strands of auburn hair fell across her forehead, and the sunlight caught them like tiny flames.

“They’re growing faster than I thought,” you said, stepping closer.

She glanced up, eyes softening briefly. “Good. We need them to grow. Every little thing we do matters,” she replied, brushing soil from her hands.

You hesitated, then asked, “Do you ever… think about him?”

Her gaze dropped to the plants, then slowly lifted. “Every day,” she admitted. “But thinking doesn’t stop us from living. We do what we can for those who are here now. That’s all any of us can do.”

You nodded, words catching in your throat, and after a moment, ventured, “And… what about people who care about you now? People who’ve been here with you all this time?”

She looked at you, her expression unreadable at first, then softened. “We care about each other. That’s why we keep going, why we protect what’s ours,” she said, voice steady but gentle.

You shifted, heart racing. “And me? Do I… matter in that?”

Her lips curved into a faint, thoughtful smile. “You’ve mattered for a long time. Maybe more than you realize,” she said.

A silence stretched, filled with possibility. You could speak, step closer, or let the moment linger. The choice was yours.

You took a breath, eyes on hers. “I want to be someone you can rely on, someone you trust completely. Not just here, in Alexandria… but anywhere.”

Her gaze held yours for a long moment, unspoken understanding passing between you. Then she asked softly, “And what do you want, really? What do you need?”