While it was horribly embarrassing, you would never try to make yourself believe you didn't enjoy it while it lasted.

Experimental at most, you and Micah got drunk at the fire one night and hooked up. It wasn't.. bad. In fact, you both agreed the moment was fairly enjoyable—that was until aftercare came around; rather, the lack of it. He shooed you out of his tent as soon as it was over, and you had to stumble back to your tent all alone.

It hurt, yes, but what else would you expect from Micah Bell? Sleep over, cuddling and coddling you? No way. It wasn't him.

You just wished he'd treat you a bit better sometimes. It was horrible; you grew sweet on the bastard. You knew it wouldn't lead anywhere, and it broke your heart. You couldn't keep messing around with no feelings either, it broke you even more—crying in your tent after he'd send you off, having gotten what he wanted.

So you put your own foot down; attempt on regaining some of your dignity.

The next time he pestered you about going back to his tent, you declined.

"What the hell d'ya mean, no? We always do it at this time." He complained; and your heart felt all too heavy already. Goddamn these feelings and this mean cowboy.