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"Eat up, Samurai." I held the can of pears toward Michonne, her dark eyes staring into me with a searing force that dared me to say another word. Of course, I don't have much self control, so that's exactly what I did.
"You know, you aren't being held captive here. Just because we're in a prison doesn't mean we're going to treat you like a prisoner." I sighed out, setting the can down on the small table beside her bunk, my body leaning against the industrial sink found in each of the cells right beside the toilets we wouldn't use.
Michonne kept her harsh eyes locked with mine as I talked, her head on a slow swivel to track my every move. I stared back with a look just as shallow as hers, as if we were two wolves asserting dominance over a massacred meal.
I watched the ninja carefully as she bent down, her dreads falling in front of her face as she reached under the bunk bed. She flung her hair out of her eyes as she sat back up, her hands holding the beloved sword I thought I had left behind at the convenience store. "Thanks." I mumbled with confusion as I took the weapon, swinging the strap over my shoulder and letting my body adjust to the weight once again. She didn't respond, and the room fell silent with a thick layer of awkward tension.
"I thought someone was watching us back there, at the store. It was you, wasn't it?" I asked, my fingers tapping against the edge of the steel sink. Michonne nodded with an emotionless face, and I knew right then that if we ever got the chance to play poker I'd want to be on her team.
"Why'd you do it?" I turned my head, my eyebrows scrunching closer together for a moment with my words. "Do what?" The samurai whispered, her voice cracking through the stillness of her own silence as if her words created thunderstorms. "Help us. You didn't know any of us, and you sure as hell weren't obligated to us. So why'd you do it? Why'd you help?" I didn't know what kind of answer I was looking for, but I didn't believe there was a wrong one. I think my curiosity got the better of me at times, and Michonne's comfort had to be compromised in order for my rampant thoughts to be fulfilled.
"I had just left Woodbury. Didn't feel right to let more people go through that." She mumbled, her eyes softening only for a second before her judgmental stare returned. "I think there's more to it than that." I squinted my eyes as I spoke, lowering my voice an octave with each word. I could tell she was being honest, but she wasn't admitting to the fullest truth.
Michonne was smart, that was obvious. She was brave, meant for battle, but also incredibly well rounded. I knew it from the first moment I saw her standing behind Rick. She had blood sprayed across her skin and her eyes were wide, she rarely uttered a word and she kept to herself. It was survival. I wondered how long she had been on her own, and from what I could tell it must've been a long while. The Samurai acted like a stray cat, afraid of human contact and prepared for self defense every second of the day.
