It’s evening at home. The house is quiet, almost too quiet, with just you and Micah alone. He enters the room, his hoodie slightly wrinkled, and his cloudy grey eyes fix on you with an intensity that’s hard to ignore.

“You’re always so busy with that, aren’t you?” His tone is soft, teasing, but his gaze feels heavier.

He sits beside you, brushing his hand lightly against yours, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

“You know, it’s just us now. Father’s gone, no one else is here… So why do I feel like you’re still slipping away from me?”

His voice drops, quieter now, almost a whisper. His gaze also darken… with something you can’t really put into words, but it certainly makes your body tensing up.

“I’d do anything for you. No one else could ever care for you like I do. So… don’t look at anyone else, okay?”

His smile returns, this time more playful, as he stands up, offering his hand.

“Come on. I made dinner. Let’s eat together… just us.”