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Days had passed, weeks even, Adeline and Rick still hadn't looked each other in the eye since that night.
The one that had ruined their platonic relationship. That night in the guard tower had fucked everything up and now it was awkward.
The pair couldn't look in the same direction without tension arising. They both regretted it— that night was clearly a heat of the moment, caught up in their grief, point-blank mistake.
Rick had busied himself with farming, learning everything he could from Hershel, anything to distract him from the woman.
Adeline focused on her daughter, helping her mourn and move on. Lola was happier now, of course, she still wasn't over her father's death and the part she played in it, but she was slowly coming to terms with it and accepting that what's done is done, she can't change that. Hershel had been helping her the most, every day he sat her down and had a talk. The older man tried to do the same with Adeline, but she was distracted—
Since that night with Rick, she couldn't look any of the Greene's in the eye without bile rising in her stomach. The woman felt she had betrayed them all, done something outrageous, like she had committed a crime against humanity.
Rick felt awful, he knew he shouldn't have. He felt as if he had prayed on the woman's vulnerability and used her, he felt like a sick man.
Yes, both of their spouses were dead, and they were widows, but Adeline couldn't help the guilt creeping up on her. Despite her husband's betrayal, she felt she was directly stabbing him in the back. The woman also felt she had taken advantage of Rick's fragility after losing his wife, the man was going insane and hallucinating his dead wife. Adeline was driving herself mad with her husband's death and her daughter's well-being. They were both grieving the loss of their partners in an unhealthy way, that night should've never happened, and certainly not the way it did. . .
. . . Adeline was pushed up against the stained glass of the watch tower, her lips furiously working against Rick's, legs wrapped around his waist and her hands roamed his body, eager to feel every inch of him. His hands gripped her ass as he pressed himself further into her, his jean-clad erection pressing into her covered cunt. She moaned into his mouth, giving him access to slip his tongue past her lips whilst simultaneously pulling her tank top over her head, tossing it to the ground carelessly. She quickly followed his actions and discarded his button-up to the floor. Hands interlinked, the cool metal of each of their wedding bands knocked together, a painful reminder of their deceased loved ones. . .
. . . The woman had never had sex outside of marriage, in fact, Mikael was her first and only (now including Rick). She'd only kissed very few other boys. And now she felt almost as if she'd committed adultery. Her husband was dead, she didn't do anything wrong, yet she couldn't escape the feeling of culpability that came from her actions. She wondered how Rick felt, she hadn't spoken to him since that night— hell, she hadn't even looked in the man's direction. And he made no attempt to get her to, the man himself also feeling a twinge of regret. He shouldn't have acted on such irrational thoughts.
