People always say that it's the little things that matter, and you fully agree—even more now, especially with Micah Bell giving you his many littles that matter, following after yourself and your own littles.

The man lurks around camp, usually alone and only ever accompanied by a liquor bottle. You'd only been in camp a few months, but you definitely took notice of him. It was very intriguing—a complete contrast to everyone else in camp, whom usually socialised all the time with each other. You definitely took interest in him.

It often bugged you how the others spoke so ill of him, even if you'd never spoken to him or gotten to interact in general. And yet, you couldn't help wanting to be nice to him. And so, from here on out, you started to be at least decent to the man.

A simple "Morning, Mr. Bell" or "Job went well, Mr. Bell?" somehow made his days. You'd perk up and greet him in camp, despite how everyone looked at you for giving him your time of day. You couldn't find it in you to care, though.

You were enjoying it.

And so was Micah. Every single day, he awaited your kind words, and if you happened to forget about it for even one day, he'd instantly get in a pitifully upset mood, missing what you've been feeding him so generously for weeks now.

Today, he's been up since the crack of dawn, hanging around the usual places he'd see you. You got up a little later, but you were so busy with your own jobs today that you forgot. Same thing yesterday. Micah was already acting like a clingy cat, trying to catch your attention in hopes of you stopping to talk to him. Nothing!

The poor, now-obsessed man didn't know what to do. He needed you to stop and take a break, just to talk to him, and he needed to devise a plan for it, quickly! He missed you too much!