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Your head hurt after the night before, you couldn't quite remember why. Well, other than the drinks.
It had been the first dinner party after Alexandria, you were nervous and just kept sipping. Somebody kept giving you more, even though, you remember distinctly Rick (big hands and blue, blue eyes) warding them off. They continued when he wasn't by your side -beer after beer and maybe something... else? You couldn't really remember.
You gathered pretty quickly that Rick was mad at you that day, something about the way he composed himself -the steaming rage enveloping him, and it only continued for days.
Day after day, and nothing. Usually, you could read him like a book, but now, all you got was well, that he was mad at you. Not even to get you started on the way everyone else was distinctively ignoring your questions like Rick had told them to.
So, you stepped out of your comfort zone -you went straight to the most honest Alexandrian you knew. Or the one who would speak to you over Rick's head -Deanna.
There was something deep in your chest that told you somehow this was betrayal, but you had been driven far past that point. (One blue-eyed glare and complete head turn to ignore you past that point.)
"Hey," you spoke, a little uneasy.
"Hello, Y/N!" she smiled, big and bright, "-I'm glad to see that dinner has been going so well-"
"That's actually what I was here to talk to you about," you echoed, direct in your tone, "-last dinner party, I... I don't remember what happened."
"Nothing bad, I can assure you," she hummed, continuing to walk down the street, "-I'm well aware of anyone overstepping."
"Right, well, I'm glad, but-" you spoke, a little impatiently -eyes darting around, "-I don't remember."
"Nothing wrong with getting a little drunk," she spoke, something in her shifting, "-we understand the change is-"
"Deanna," you interrupted with finality, "-please, just tell me what happened."
She paused in her steps, turning around to fully face you -head on, and something in you shrunk at her inquisitive gaze. She looked at you a bit like a puzzle for a moment, before her eyes seemed to light up in understanding like she knew exactly what the issue was.
"Let's..." she began, slowly, "-Let's talk inside, shall we?"
You merely followed her up the steps and into her house, like a sheep to its shepherd -you were desperate. If she could help, you would just about do anything.
"I was wondering just what was with him," Deanna muttered to herself, "-makes so much sense now."
She led you to her living room, where the room was much the same in her own home, but she had photos -framed and set pristinely of faces you didn't quite know. Ones you doubted you ever would.
"Sit," she motioned, "-we have much to discuss."
"Much?" you questioned.
"Well, no, it's-" she started, but faltered for a moment, "-rather complicated."
"Complicated?" you questioned further, raising your voice.
"Look, I'm going to just tell you to avoid any further confusion. You kissed someone, can't remember who now-"
You paused, faltering for a minute, "That's it?"
"Rick saw," she finished as if it was some big reveal.
You and Rick had a thing, a very slight thing that neither of you had really even commented on or talked about. Hell, you hadn't even kissed the guy, but there was something there, a deep buzz under your skin. And something in the apocalypse was something, sure, but not if he didn't talk to you about it. Not if he-
You stopped your train of thought, "So?"
"Aren't you-" she seemed to pause, being taken off guard, "-Aren't the two of you together?"
"I'm sorry?" you asked, "-No, we're not... not really. He doesn't- It doesn't matter, drunkenly kissing a guy is no reason to get this pissy."
"It is if you're together."
"Deanna," you started, "-don't push your luck. Look, I have to go sort this out, do you-"
"Oh, no, please," she answered, quickly, "-I can't get a word in with the man right now. Fix it, go."
That's how you wound up here, ready at his door -he couldn't ignore you at his own home. You'd get him to listen.
"Rick," you addressed, direct as soon as the door opened and you saw the blue of his eyes, "-hey."
He seemed to still at your voice -frozen for a moment, before wordlessly moving around the kitchen. He was gathering up dishes, at a sure pace before, but now he'd begun much faster. As if he was trying to get away from you.
"Alright, enough-" you said, waltzing up to him, and turning his face to yours, "-why are you mad?"
Rick looked at you for a moment, and something in you almost grew shy at the attentiveness. Blue eyes dashing along your face like you were fresh water and he had been stranded in the desert.
And then, he stopped. Lifting his soapy hands to take yours off his face -a slow, gentle movement. The opposite of someone mad, you noted.
"Do we need to talk 'bout this?" He echoed, a little helplessly if you were honest.
"I don't know," you answered, "-you tell me. Can you not be mad if we don't talk about this?"
"I'm not," he sighed, turning back to the dishes -this time doing them leisurely, "-I'm not mad. I just..."
"You just what?" You asked, pointedly.
"I just think you can choose better people to kiss," he grumbled out so low you weren't even sure you'd heard him correctly.
But something in you fired off like a rocket.
"Seriously?!" You yelled out, a sort of toned frustrated yell, but still a yell, "-you are pissed because you don't approve?"
"That's not-"
"Well, I got good news for ya, Sheriff, I don't even remember who I kissed last night-"
"That's because he made ya so drunk-"
"-And on top of that, I can kiss who I want, when I want. It's not like you have any control over that-"
"I want to," he grumbled out, even lower.
You stilled, "I'm sorry...?"
He didn't speak for a moment, washing the soap off his hands -you watched the water trail down to his elbow. Scrubbing away at the dish towel, he dried them and turned to face you.
Rick's steps were slow and sure, you could hear the clink of the tile under his boot. And your heart started pounding with anticipation, maybe he was mad. Why was he getting so close-
He was just in front of you now, finger trailed under your chin, "Tell me to stop, if you don't want this."
You turned your head down to look at the tile, something in your breath catching that you could barely breathe. You just needed a second-
He flicked your eyes back to him, and you could feel his breaths on your lips, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same as I do, then I'll leave you alone."
"Rick-"
He raised an eyebrow, "I asked a question, Y/N."
"How do you feel?"
He roamed closer, eyes dashing between the two of yours and your lips, "I think you know, sweetheart."
You opened your mouth.
"But," he interrupted, "-if ya insist."
Rick pulled back slightly, hand leaving its trail to, instead, hold your wrists -gently, as his thumbs rubbed into your wrists. With another breath, he kissed your palms -pressing his lips there ever so slightly.
"I'm tired of being on the sidelines," he spoke, low and soft, "-I... I want it to be us. Together."
"Together?" You echoed.
"Like you stay in my house, you sleep in my bed, we go to dinners together instead of so... so far apart-"
"And you can tell me who to kiss?" You added, playfully.
"And I'm the only one you can kiss," he corrected with the smallest of grins, but there was something hard in his eyes. Something serious.
"So," you spoke, expectantly, "-kiss me then. So, I can see what I'm stuck with."
"Stuck?" He laughed, slowly leaning in, "-Oh darlin' you're gonna be far from stuck."