"I didn't mind paying," I eye his burger and fries. "I mean, you're my plus one for the day, I was never gonna expect you to buy us anything."
Micah smiles as he look up at me with the most fraudulently innocent blue eyes. "Well, I thought I'd pay since you did allow me to hang out with you. A thank you, if you will."
After the whole fitting room moment, I tried by all means to keep a good arm's reach of distance between us two as we purchased the dress, debated what shoes would match and then purchased that as well. We then just went around window shopping, pointing out things from my wish list and things he found fascinating.
I did buy a few things, actually.
Keyword, tried; I don't know, a part of me feels like everything I said to him hit him for as good as a moment because he then acted like I never said anything. Like that boundary was never made. No, he wasn't touching me, but I would have assumed he'd include personal space into the agreement.
Agreement. Wow. Never thought it would come down to this. Well, to be fair, I never even thought it would come down to him having contact again. Speaking, and now hanging out, all so quickly and in a short matter of time. I though I had finally, happily moved on, though here he is, reminding me that it isn't over, even despite the odds of us (him, really) not knowing each other like we used to.
Yet here we are, getting to 'know' each other, yet again.
There's a slight bit of guilt. I should have tried. I should have put in the effort. The same way he fought to be with me, I should have done the same; though, who knows how it all could have turned out? And how do I convince a wolf — outside of throwing information about his kind, his pack and his goddess to his face — that at one point, he fought for me to be his mate and I want the same now that I know more than I should?
What if he rejected me? How would I have lived with that? I can only bet it was so much easier for him to convince me, to go through all he did twice, than for me to ever assume I could have made it work.
"You okay?" After blinking back into existence, my eyes lift up to Micah, who sits there with an eyebrow up — I think it's up, since his hair is covering his forehead kind of. "You've completely zoned out staring at my burger. Did you want some? Although, we kind of got the same."
"Sorry." I mutter. "I just have a lot on my mind and I guess I've been zoning out just as much. Were you saying something?"
"No. Just waiting for you to dig in as well."
With a hum, I lift up a fry and slip it in my mouth, humming in delight and the saltiness. "It's good."
He can't respond if he wanted to, since he has now long taken a large bite of his burger that stuffs his cheeks like a cute squirrel. He simply gives me a thumbs up in agreement as he chews away.
Imagine me, seemingly looking like a proud person to onlookers, as I watch Micah devour his food in silence. Not that he's forgotten my existence, I doubt that, but his attention is on the food. It makes sense, since I know wolves have to eat a lot to sustain themselves, and even though he didn't get a lot for himself, he clearly is enjoying it regardless.
He's... pretty. I mean, he always has been. But looking at him know after the amount of time we've spent apart, he seems a tad bit older, tad bit more mature. Prettier. His hair is still the same, maybe a shade lighter? Though the style is kind of different. He still has those long lashes that bat the top of his cheeks with every blink. And his lips... damn, his lips.
It's the same Micah, but he's not the same Micah. He's not my Micah. He's changed, I can tell from miles away, though a huge part of him is still him, if that even makes any sense.
