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Daryl didn’t know it, but he was a dead man walking.
It was his goddamn fault that Rick was here, completely out of his depth.
It’s like he’d forgotten how this worked, how to operate in this circumstances. Though, he’d never had to worry about this before. Not when he’d thought the universe had handed him his soulmate on a platter. Spared the aimless wandering that he’d seen others suffer.
And yet, here he was.
In his best button up, boots, leant up against the bar with a freshly poured sour, surveying the room.
Because despite it all, he’d been thrown a lifeline. At least he liked to think he had.
He’d only come here at Daryl’s insistence, Rick could only tolerate so many worried glances. So he’d taken the flyer, read it five times over before he decided he’d do it. If anything, it was an excuse to leave the house. And an excuse for Daryl and Sasha to stop hovering so much.
He took a sip of the drink, the bitterness coating his tongue as he let his eyes pass over the room.
It wasn’t nearly packed, still open enough to pass behind someone without grazing them, but still lively. Rick had been in the midst of that crowd, chatting with the newly separated individuals like him. Keeping small talk going to prove to himself that he tried. That despite the way his skin crawled and how heavy the ring in his pocket felt, he’d finally done it.
Taking the first step out of the wreckage, a step closer to stripping the unseen shackles of his wrists. To some sort of freedom. From the idea of what he had before.
Or what he thought he’d had.
He felt the constrictive feeling in his chest bubbling up again when he turned his head.
And then, he saw her.
She hadn’t captured his attention, she’d demanded it. White contrast with the darkness of her skin, highlighting her features in a way that made her beauty undeniable. It was like she was the only source of light, the edges of Rick’s vision darkening to focus on her. Only her.
For a moment Rick stops breathing, the only thing he can do is stare. Eyes raking over every inch of her that’s visible to him, trying to memorize it all.
But the spell breaks when Annie, or Abbie(?), touches his arm and calls his name. He looks over to her, “Sorry about that. You were saying?”
He gives her a minute before he excuses himself, another man taking his place with ease. But as he turns to find divinity incarnate he can’t find her. He works his way through the crowd, maneuvering around bodies to find the one that calls to him.
He thinks he’s lost it for a moment, losing the hold on reality he’s had. Always seeing white flashing in his peripheral, but never quite catching it.
It goes on for half an hour, an invisible game of cat and mouse. One that feels one sided to Rick. Where he’s always meant to be on the losing end.
So he ends up at the bar. Freshly poured drink on hand to soften the blow to his ego over losing her.
Not that he’d had her to begin with. But god, if he had…
“Usually you introduce yourself to someone before trailing them at a singles event.”
He doesn’t have to turn, by voice alone he knows it’s her. Not that he knows her voice, but it’s her. Warmth radiates off her body to his, she’s so close. He turns to retort but the words die on his lips.
She steals the air right out of his lungs with a single look. She shone, glittered in front of his eyes, while she smiled at him coyly. Like she had no idea how she’d ensnared him with a single look. He couldn’t choose what to focus on. The gentle curve of her cheeks, the warm brown of her eyes, the tilt of her lips, the dark skin that glowed from the cut of her top. He wanted to see it all at once, he wanted to savor it.
“Well,” Rick’s eyes followed her movement as she took a sip of the purple concoction, “normally you don’t trail someone through a crowded room.” She finally spared him a look, raking her eyes over him slowly, “But you don’t strike me as the normal type.”
Somehow, he finds his voice, “Is that your kind of man?”
Her lip twitches, eyes lighting up in amusement as she gives him a once over, “Well, aren’t you eager” She drinks again. Rick can feel his body burning when she looks at him
“Ain’t no other way to be about things like this.”
“Is that right?”
He shrugs, fingers gripping tighter around the glass, “It’s the right way to me.”
She stares at him and her smile falls, he thinks that he’s lost her. His body is on fire, his fingers itch to touch her, he grips the glass.
Finally, she grins at him, and holds her hand out, “Michonne.”
“Rick.”