“I’ll bet.” Micah chuckles but then falls silent. It takes a while before he speaks up again. “My dad and I, we did survival trips.” He halts after that, his jaw working, which I feel more than see, the muscles tensing against the top of my head.
“Survival trips?” I ask tentatively when it’s becoming clear that he isn’t going to elaborate.
“Yeah, kinda like…Boy Scouts? He showed me what berries or mushrooms you could forage, or how to build a fire and a shelter, and”—Micah looks up at the stars again—“how to navigate when you’re lost.”
“Ohh, okay, that sounds cool.”
“It was. And, eventually, he gave me challenges. We’d drive somewhere so I wouldn’t know the landscape. Or he’d leave in the night, and I’d have to find my way back.”
Micah’s voice is more animated now, but my smile abruptly falls off my face. The chill from earlier is back, crawling out from my chest and down my arms.
“How…how old were you?”
“Like eleven…ish? Maybe twelve. Anyway, I always liked it when I found the familiar constellations because it meant I knew the direction. Like seeing a friend and—” he breaks off, his chin dropping so he can face me. Both his eyes widen at the realization of what he just said out loud.
I can't help but hold on to his arms, worried he might bolt.
“It wasn't as bad as it sounds. He'd never—it was always in safe forests! Just to-to test me. So I could show what I had learned,” Micah hurriedly clarifies.
I have to swallow hard to get past the lump in my throat. “I…I don't really know what to say,” I admit, wincing when my voice comes out raw. “And…and I'm sure it's not my place, and I'm glad you…think of it fondly, but that sounds…terrifying.”
Micah stays silent for a long moment. I give him space the best I can, scooting forward. The rift between us fills with cool air, and within moments we're both shivering again. But I don't want to force him into proximity, so I wait.
Thankfully, our fluffy companion picks that moment to reappear. After a short scramble up onto the open hatch, Owen greets us with a softmrrow. He traipses across the truck bed, not stopping even when he starts stepping onto Micah’s thighs.Once he has reached his lap, he settles in next to me, stretching his little head up so he can butt it against Micah’s elbow. He only settles down once Micah starts scratching behind his ears.
I slowly lean back so he can reach around me more comfortably. I don’t expect Micah to pick up our earlier topic again, but he clears his throat.
“I mean, I was scared, but I never really thought about it.” Micah’s voice is quiet, trying hard to hide the raw uncertainty in his words. His fingers work through Owen’s thick fur. The cat barely moves, apparently happy to be used as a stress ball.
I nod, still at a loss, but I don’t want this atmosphere to settle between us, so I let the topic go with that. “Family things,” I mumble quietly, carefully leaning forward to nudge my head against Micah’s before raising my arm again, pointing out Orion next. “Did you know this one was also called The Hunter?”
Again, Micah leans his head against my arm to look where I point. I can feel his hum vibrate through his chest into me.
“Yeah, and there’s his loyal dog,” he says, gently moving my hand to point out a bright star as well as the ones surrounding it.
In the distance, another firework pops, drawing our attention away. This time, a red sheen colors the sky just above the treeline.Seconds later, it glows green, then yellow, then red again. Another rocket whistles up and explodes into a shower of sparkles. Next to me, Micah whistles lowly, followed by an indignantmeow.
“Insatiable,” Micah mutters and continues petting Owen, who rumbles like a little lawnmower.
“Best seats, right?” I smile when the sky keeps lighting up with more and more colorful explosions. The truck bed isn't the most comfortable place in the world, and there might be a rowdy cat in it that I didn’t plan on, but with the picnic blanket spread out beneath us and the woven wool wrapped around Micah and me, there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be.
“Yeah, almost romantic.” Micah ducks his head, his nose brushing my cheek, his lips grazing my jaw.
I shudder when his breath tickles over my skin.
“Mh…I guess?” I have to take a breath before I can think of a better answer. “Is that something we should include in our…lessons?”
“You telling me I need romance lessons?”
“No, you’re the most romantic ogre I know.”
Micah's shoulders shake as he laughs. His stubble grazes against my cheek when he shifts. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to measure up to Linen-Pants-Guy.”
I know he’s teasing, but his words make my stomach drop. Listening to Colin’s travel plans in a packed restaurant doesn’t come close to sitting under the stars, watching the tips of the trees glow in all the colors of the rainbow. I feel Micah's chest press against my back every time he inhales.
“…yeah, totally,” I mutter, swallowing hard.
Linden, July 10th
