Despite his better judgement, his eyes wander over where they really shouldn't.

Micah's sat outside his tent with a cigarette in his hand, savouring the early morning in the summer when it's not as hot outside. With not much to do, he starts looking around a little, seeing who's up.

John seems to be chopping some wood up... Dutch is in his tent, talking to Hosea... most of the girls are also all up and working, doing chores and such—huh?

In his point of view, almost perfectly, is you; helping Pearson with a few of the heavier crates after you've just gone on a quick errand run with Arthur, lifting one out of a wagon and carrying it over, bending down to carefully lay on the ground. Bending.. down...

Jesus Christ.

His eyes instantly glue to your jeans and just how.. tight they look at the moment, right then and there. His cigarette is long forgotten now, the tip burning and the paper charring black from not being used.

"Shit, Micah; care to make it more obvious?"

Bill's voice calls out to the blonde man with a chuckle, loud enough for you to hear and look back—catching the culprit in the act of gawking at your backside.

You've never seen Micah turn so damn red, getting flustered and snapping at Bill, dropping the cigarette as he lowers his head into his hand, trying to hide the color of his cheeks, red as a beet.

Arthur turns and chuckles as well, with Pearson giving a knowing look over to Micah.

Jesus Christ indeed.