A/N Six snippets that reflect the progression of Lori and Rick after Season 2. Because I can't stay away from writing these two. Because their love impacted me so much after its fall.

This piece is softer than my other Lori/Rick one. The flow is smoother, and the pace is slower. Please let me know what you think.

She's cold.

Because she blames him for Shane's death, and because perhaps there was hope for Shane after all.

Because her mind is now a mess, a tumultuous mess that sways back and forth from one emotion to another. It wasn't about Shane being her former lover. It wasn't about the baby, Shane's baby. She would never love Shane again. She couldn't. But Shane deserved to be a part of her life, ever since he saved it. She was going start fresh with him, to amend what she should have amended a long time ago.

Was.

He's cold.

Because the further he tries to move closer, the further she pulls apart.

Because no matter how many times he tries to talk sense into her, she refuses to listen. Because even though he repeats that she was the one who urged him, was the one who was against him, she goes astray. Sometimes he sits alone at night while everyone else is asleep. And even though Daryl is there, Daryl doesn't bother him. Daryl knows him well enough to leave him be. Because he needs to think if this is really all his fault, and if he's not ready nor strong enough to lead this group.

Nevertheless, he marches on.

She's warm.

Because surviving the longest winter has given her time to think.

About her life. About her options. About what she has done. She glances back at the mistakes she's made, with her husband and with her son. She remembers all the heartbreak and confusion and stress that being in this world has given her. And the more she thinks, the more she realizes. And she realizes that she is the one who is wrong, and that she is the one who needs to apologize. So she apologizes. But he does not accept it.

She accepts that.

He's still cold.

Because she doesn't understand the constant headaches and heartaches that she's given him.

He's learned to stop caring. He's learned to move on. He's learned that he has other priorities, like keeping this group safe. He still watches her. He still protects her. But he's surrendered his tender and loving ways. Because he needs to put logic over emotion. Because he can't constantly keep giving her the attention she doesn't need. Yes she is pregnant, and yes, it is showing. But she'll be fine.

It's not as if she needs him anymore, anyways.

She's still warm.

Because when his hand reaches for her shoulder, she knows there is a dim spark that still exists within him.

And when that smile reaches her face, it's genuine. It's refreshing. Because now she's remembering what made her fall in love him with so hard. She remembers the subtle glances, the passion-filled kisses, the intimate exchanges that brought them closer together. And as she sleeps alone in her cell, as she rubs her baby belly, she sees his face. His smiling face. His loving face. And for a moment, she swears she can feel him kiss her. Part of her believes that after all the bullshit they've gone through, he'll still remember why he fell for her in the first place.

Another part of her doesn't.

He's warm.

Because he remembers.

He's too late.