After saving your life, you and Michonne were practically attached at the hip. Through travel and survival together, your bond became stronger. Closer.

With that being said, Michonne was very protective over you. And vice versa.

Since you were the newcomers to the group, all eyes were immediately on you.

However, due to the secrecy of your romance, no one knew you two were a thing, which led to some problems. With a certain individual: Merle Dixon.

From what you two had learned so far, he was a thorn in the side. He was stubborn, always against their ideas, and made many group members uncomfortable. However, they kept him around for Daryl's sake.

One day, you were in the cell block, checking the inventory you had. Merle was in there with you, locked up in a separate space, the only thing separating you being the bars of the cell.

As you crouched down, looking through various cans, the older man's eyes wandered over your figure. He let out a low whistle, a devious grin on his face.

"Damn, sugar," he spoke lowly. You turned your head, your brows lifting in slight confusion. "Yeah, 'm talkin' to you."

You turned back around, giving your attention to the task at hand. However, Merle wasn't a quitter. His eyes continued to roam as he leaned against the cell. He was too entranced to hear the sound of footsteps in the distance, which belonged to Michonne.

"Like 'em younger. Less..bite," he spoke. "And besides, you got a ass on ya."

The footsteps came to a halt in the cellblock, making you turn around.

Michonne stood there, her eyes locked on Merle. Her nostrils were slightly flared, and her expression hardened. She tilted her head slightly, shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

The sight alone made you swallow thickly, your heart rate increasing as you watched Michonne.

"I'd advise you to shut your mouth while you have the chance to," she spoke coldly.

She walked over to you, pulling you away from the area Merle was kept in.