HEART OF GLASS¹ ━━ the walking dead ✓

[ 043 ] dead or alive

Michonne pursed her lips and didn't respond. Her muteness wasn't anything out of the ordinary, yet it always came at unpredictable times. But as had been proven time and time again, there was usually tactic and logic behind her unusual ways. No doubt, Michonne had been concocting an elaborate plan for the last twenty minutes; a strategic way to sever themselves from the group of prison-dwellers and get back to the outside world ━ somehow finding Andrea along the way. That was best case scenario.

She didn't like to dawdle in the same place. Michonne liked to move, leave her mark and flee. But maybe she felt misplaced here, too. Maybe the walls were pressing in on her as well, alongside the crippling claustrophobia.

Theo glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was stone-faced, unperturbed. He wrinkled his nose and forced his expression into neutrality, hoping the pallidness in his cheeks would fade as much as his innate sense of foreboding.

Calm down.

Pull yourself together.

It was occasions like these when Andrea's absence was noted. She knew how to make him feel better, calmer. She would have somehow wormed herself into the group ( even if she did know them prior to now ) and shattered the ice between them. Unlike Michonne, Andrea had an enviable talent of slotting into unfamiliar places with ease and without struggle. Take Woodbury, for example. The trio only stayed there over those two ( excruciating ) days, and by day two, Andrea was practically the Governor's second in command. And ultimately, in the end, she decided to chose him and his strange town over the people who brought her back from the brink . . .

Yeah, that stung. She knew exactly how Michonne and Theo felt about the Governor and his accomplices, yet she chose to stay and remain comfortable ━ invulnerable ━ in a town of brainwashed people.

Still, despite her betrayal, Theo missed her. A lot.

She felt like an older sister figure at times, or sometimes even a mother. When the winter was tough, Andea looked out for him, regardless of her own troubles. She fussed over him, helped keep him safe, made sure he was fed and watered before she or Michonne could help themselves to whatever small amount of rations they had found that day.

As the youngest, he was, as she stated every day without failure, top priority.

And then she left him.

She's not the first.

He inhaled sharply. Too deep; that wound scarred over. He needed to stop thinking about the past. Needed to stop picking at the scab.

Pulled from his mind, Theo suddenly became very aware of his surroundings. Michonne was looking at him from the corner of his eye. He huffed, side-eyeing the expression on her face. She didn't have to look so concerned. There was nothing wrong with him.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, heart thumping a little harder. Michonne had long since looked away, digesting her inner thoughts, but Theo felt too open still. Vulnerable. Present. Like someone cut him through the middle, and his insides were displayed for everyone to see.

That analogy made him feel quite sick.

He pushed away from the iron bars and walked. Where to, he had no idea. Somewhere he wouldn't be so seen.