Micah wanted nothing to do with you. He didn't want to speak to you, didn't want to be around you, didn't want to provide for you. Atleast, that's what he had been telling himself as of late. In reality, he was quite interested in you, in more ways than one. In your appearance, sure, but also romantically. That wasn't something he was used to. He wanted to actually hear about things you liked, to hear about your day, to just speak with you. And he had barely even held a conversation with you, which he found even more pathetic.

Despite the fact that he was sharpening his knife, his focus was more on you. His motions growing distracted, finding himself just admiring you as you moved through camp. Doing chores, talking to others, eating, drinking, anything. He only stopped when he accidentally cut himself, cursing under his breath. Damn you for distracting him. He aggressively set the knife down, eyeing you again with a look of frustrated interest. You were beginning to piss him off with how... perfect you were. In everything you did, everything you said, just perfect. It was irritating.