Chapter Text
“What are we going to do?” Michelle asked, her voice sharp with worry as her eyes darted toward the faint hum of something moving through the ship.
Micah got up, his shoulders squared as he turned toward the sound. “You find the ship. I'm gonna find it and keep it away from you and Rosco so you can track down the robot army.”
“What?” Michelle immediately pulled the lever on the brakes, stalling the ship, then stood, striding up to him. “Micah, no!”
“Follow the tracking device's signal,” he said firmly, “A lot of people are counting on you.”
But as Micah turned to leave, Michelle reached out and snatched his wrist, “No, you stay here with me!”
Her voice cracked slightly, and Micah stopped in his tracks. He turned back, meeting her terrified gaze with a calm, even expression, but she could tell that he was just as scared. “I can’t let whatever that is get to you.”
“But—” Michelle stammered, searching for an argument, anything to stop him. To keep him here. “I—I’m horrible at flying. You can’t put me in the captain’s chair.”
“No, you’re brilliant, Michelle,” Micah countered, his tone softening, “And I’m so glad that you’ve been here this year. And I know you will do great.”
Michelle blinked, her grip loosening slightly as his words sank in. Her mind was racing, her emotions a storm of fear, frustration, and something she couldn’t quite name.
Micah hesitated for just a second, his voice dropping lower. “A wise person once told me, I have to show appreciation for the people I care about.”
Michelle squinted at him slightly, the tension in her chest easing just enough to let a flicker of amusement through. “Did you just quote a six-year-old?”
Micah froze, his composure breaking for a split second, “There is a monster on this ship. I gotta go.” He pulled away before she could stop him again, striding toward the door with purposeful steps.
Michelle stood there, her hand still half-raised as if she could pull him back. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her mind screaming at her to call out to him, to demand he stay. But the words caught in her throat, tangled with the fear and frustration swirling inside her.
Behind her, Rosco squealed, breaking the heavy silence.
“Did he just appreciate me?” Michelle asked, half to herself, her voice still tinged with disbelief.
Rosco gibbered happily in response, his little arms flailing with enthusiasm.
For a moment, Michelle managed a small grin, the warmth of Micah’s words lingering in her chest despite the panic threatening to overtake her. But then her gaze drifted back to the door he’d disappeared through, and the smile faded as reality came crashing back down.
Her fingers tightened around the back of the captain’s chair, her knuckles white as she stared at the controls. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating, but she forced herself to take a deep breath.
“You better come back,” she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling just slightly.
Michelle slid into the captain’s chair, her hands hovering over the controls for a moment before she took hold of them. She wasn’t a pilot—never thought she’d have to be, not under these circumstances—but right now, she had no choice. The tracking device’s signal pulsed faintly on the screen in front of her, a distant beacon she had to follow.
Rosco chirped beside her from his seat, his small hands patting her arm in what she could only guess was meant to be reassurance.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got this,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Her fingers tightened on the controls, her jaw set with determination. “I’ve got this.”
As the ship hummed beneath her hands, Michelle’s mind raced. Every few seconds, her gaze flicked to the door, her thoughts straying to Micah. She didn’t know what was out there, didn’t know what he was facing—but she knew him. Knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d done what he set out to do.
And that terrified her more than anything.
—
The portal hummed as it connected to The Arxis, locking onto home. The air was thick with relief and exhaustion as the team disembarked, stepping onto the familiar grounds of the M.O.M. agency. People swarmed around them almost immediately—agents, technicians, and friends rushing to greet them, their voices a cacophony of cheers and concern.
For the first time in what felt like forever, they could all take a breath.
Michelle lingered at the edge of the group, her eyes scanning the faces around her until they landed on Micah. He was standing a few feet away, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion but his expression unreadable. He looked... lost, like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself now that the mission was over.
Before he could slip away into the crowd, Michelle moved. She crossed the space between them in a few quick strides, grabbing his arm and turning him toward her. Micah barely had time to blink before she pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around his middle.
For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in place. His arms hung awkwardly at his sides, and he stared over her shoulder as if trying to process what was happening.
Michelle didn’t let go.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, her voice muffled against his chest. “But you’re okay. You’re okay.”
Micah’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to her being this open, this vulnerable. She didn’t even hug the girls often. And yet, there was something about the way she was holding onto him that made it impossible to pull away.
“Uh…” he started weakly, but before he could finish, a clap on his back nearly knocked the wind out of him.
“Hug her back, you idiot!” Judah’s voice hissed, loud enough to turn a few heads in the crowd.
Micah shot him a wide-eyed glare, his face flushing red, but the grin on Judah’s face was impossible to ignore.
Michelle stiffened slightly, pulling back just enough to glance over at Judah, who gave her an exaggerated thumbs-up before wandering back into the crowd.
“Of course it’d be him,” she muttered under her breath before turning her gaze back to Micah.
Micah, meanwhile, looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His face was still red, his hands awkwardly hovering in the space between them, unsure of what to do. For a moment, he glanced at the crowd, as if considering bolting, but then his eyes landed back on her—on the way she was looking up at him, waiting, expectant but not demanding.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice half-resigned, half-playful.
Michelle raised an eyebrow, her expression deadpan. “I just pulled you into a hug in front of the entire agency. Do you really think I care about letting it go?”
Micah blinked, her words catching him off guard. Then, something in him softened. Slowly, he lowered his arms, hesitating for a split second before wrapping them around her. It was clumsy at first—stiff and uncertain—but then Michelle leaned into him again, and his movements grew more natural. His arms tightened slightly, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Better,” Michelle murmured, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I guess I owe Judah one,” Micah muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
Michelle snorted softly. “Let’s not get carried away.”
For a moment, they stayed like that, the noise of the crowd around them fading into the background. The cool metal of their armor pressed against each other, the slight contrast of his height making her head fit just beneath his chin. Micah caught a faint hint of something distinctly Michelle—maybe the faint smell of something sharp and smoky, like the machines of the training grounds she always seemed to spend time around.
Michelle shifted slightly, her cheek brushing against his chest plate. “You’re not as bad at this as I thought,” she said, her tone teasing but light.
Micah huffed a soft laugh. “Thanks,” he paused, “I think.”
Before either of them could say more, a familiar voice piped up nearby. “Aww, is this where the two of you are gonna confess your undying love or something?”
Micah groaned, his arms falling away as he turned to glare at the source. “Not now, Josiah.”
Josiah smirked, leaning casually against a nearby console. “What? I’m just saying, the whole dramatic armor-clad reunion vibe is very on-brand for you two.”
Michelle crossed her arms, shooting Josiah a pointed look. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like, I don’t know, not being here?”
Josiah shrugged, completely unbothered by her glare. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta admit, this is pretty entertaining.” He gestured vaguely between them. “You two being all awkward and heartfelt in matching armor? Peak drama. Feels like I’m watching a live-action soap opera.”
Michelle’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to shut you in and airlock? Because I can make that happen.”
Josiah smirked wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Not unless you want to explain to Shiloh why her brother mysteriously vanished. But hey, I’ll take the risk if it means I get to see you actually follow through on a threat for once.”
“Josiah,” Micah interrupted, his voice low and tired, “go bother someone else. Please.”
Josiah held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” He started backing away, but not before tossing one last comment over his shoulder. “Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding!”
Michelle let out a frustrated groan, her fingers flexing like she was seconds away from throwing something at him. “I hate him so much,” she muttered, watching as Josiah finally disappeared into the crowd.
“No, you don’t,” Micah said, though his tone was distracted.
Michelle turned to him, her brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Micah shrugged, glancing at the space Josiah had occupied. “He’s annoying, yeah, but… he’s just trying to lighten the mood. He’s good at that, even if his timing sucks.”
Michelle blinked, caught off guard by the rare defense of Josiah. She studied Micah for a moment, noting the way his posture had relaxed, the faint humor lingering in his expression despite everything they’d just been through. It was a side of him she didn’t see often enough—one she realized she’d missed.
“Yeah, well,” she said after a moment, her tone softening, “he’s lucky I’m in a good mood.”
Micah glanced at her, his lips quirking into a small, genuine smile. “You’re in a good mood?”
Michelle raised an eyebrow. “Don’t push your luck, Nelson.”
He chuckled softly, the sound almost lost in the noise of the crowd. Then, after a beat of silence, he said, “Thanks, by the way. For, uh…” He gestured vaguely, his hand making a circular motion.
Michelle tilted her head. “For what? Hugging you? That wasn’t exactly for your benefit.”
Micah rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening slightly. “I mean, for, you know… being here. Having my back. Stuff like that.”
She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a small, genuine smile that softened the sharpness of her usual demeanor. “You’re welcome,” she said simply.
Before he could respond, she turned and started toward the others, her cape swaying slightly with each step. Micah watched her go, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
“Undying love, huh?” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Then, with a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and followed after her.
The clamor of the crowd swallowed them as they moved toward the rest of the team, but Michelle didn’t stray too far ahead of Micah. She kept glancing over her shoulder, ensuring he was close, though she’d never admit it aloud. The faint weight of his gaze on her back didn’t go unnoticed, and she found herself standing a little taller, the pink-trimmed armor catching the light with every step.
When they reached the others, it was clear that everyone had settled into their roles. Mary was deep in conversation with Rosco, who was gesturing wildly in excitement, while Elijah stood off to the side, organizing equipment. Judah was recounting something animatedly to a small group of agents, his arms moving in broad, sweeping gestures that seemed to captivate his audience.
Michelle slowed her pace, subtly drifting closer to Micah as the noise surrounded them. “So, what now?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Micah hesitated, glancing at the group before looking down at her. “We take a breath. Regroup. And… figure out how to actually get to my mom.”
The mention of his mom caused Michelle to glance up at him, her expression softening. “We’ll get her,” she said with quiet confidence. “You know that, right?”
Micah nodded, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t fully dissipate. “Yeah. I just… hope it’s not too late.”
Michelle’s hand twitched, like she wanted to reach for him again, but instead, she tilted her head slightly. “You’re not doing this alone, Micah. You’ve got all of us. You’ve got… me.”
Her words hung in the air for a moment, and Micah blinked at her, something unspoken passing between them. Before he could respond, Judah’s booming voice cut through the noise once more.
“Hey, lovebirds!” he called, grinning as he approached. “We’re not done yet, you know. Plenty of work left to do, so don’t get too comfortable.”
Michelle groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Does he ever stop?”
Micah sighed, offering her a faint smile. “You kind of get used to it.”
Judah clapped him on the shoulder again, not nearly as hard this time, though it still made Micah wince slightly. “Good to see you loosening up a bit, man,” Judah said. Then, with a wink toward Michelle, he added, “And good to see someone finally getting through that thick skull of yours.”
“Judah,” Micah said, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement.
“Alright, alright,” Judah said, backing away with his hands raised. “I’ll leave you two to your broody hero thing. For now.”
As he walked off, Michelle muttered, “I’m starting to think the airlock idea wasn’t so bad.”
Micah chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on,” he said, nudging her lightly with his elbow. “Let’s figure out our next move.”
For a brief moment, Michelle hesitated, her gaze lingering on him. Then she nodded, falling into step beside him as they joined the rest of the group.
—
The debrief ended with a mixture of relief and exhaustion filling the room. Plans were set, updates shared, and yet the weight of their next steps hung in the air like an unspoken promise. Micah glanced toward Michelle as the group began to disperse, a quiet moment of hesitation crossing his features.
“Let’s get this gear back to the armory,” he murmured, breaking the silence.
Michelle nodded, adjusting the bracers at her wrists before falling into step beside him. They walked in silence at first, the sound of their boots echoing faintly against the metallic halls of the base.
As they reached the armory, Micah lingered by the door, watching as Michelle began removing her armor. Her movements were methodical, precise—so very her. And yet, there was a softness in the way she carefully placed each piece, as if she respected not only the armor itself but what it represented.
Micah swallowed hard, summoning a surge of courage. As she turned to glance at him, he stepped closer, and, after he removed his armor, his hand hesitantly reached for hers. His fingers brushed hers, tentative and unsure, before fully intertwining them.
Michelle froze, her eyes snapping up to meet his. For a moment, there was only silence, the air charged with something neither of them could quite name. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile.
“Bold move, Nelson,” she teased softly, though her fingers tightened around his in quiet reassurance.
Micah’s ears burned, but he didn’t let go. “Well, you’re stuck with me now,” he said, his voice low but warm.
As they left the armory, their joined hands hidden from the casual observer, the halls grew busier with agents moving to and from their assignments. It was as they passed through the main atrium that they spotted Judah leaning against a console, waiting for them.
The moment he noticed them, his eyes dropped to their linked hands, and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his expression so smug it practically demanded a reaction.
Michelle immediately tensed, her jaw tightening as she glared daggers at him. Her smoldering expression seemed to dare him to say something—anything—but Judah simply held his ground, basking in his victory.
Before Michelle could retort, another familiar voice joined them.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Shiloh said, stepping up beside them with a knowing sigh.
Both Micah and Michelle turned toward her, their expressions softening slightly at her presence.
“They were all going to be like this no matter how long it took you two,” Shiloh continued, folding her arms as she regarded her brother and his now-obvious affection for Michelle. “They’re just happy for you, even if they have an obnoxious way of showing it.”
Michelle let out a huff, her glare shifting into something more resigned as she glanced at Shiloh. “Obnoxious is putting it mildly,” she muttered.
Shiloh smirked, shrugging as she glanced at Michelle. “Trust me, this is mild for them. Judah’s been waiting for this moment since the two of you started bickering over anything and everything on missions.”
Michelle opened her mouth to respond, but the memories Shiloh referenced—of her practically shoving Micah aside at times—made her pause. Her lips twitched into an involuntary smile, though she quickly masked it with another huff.
Micah, on the other hand, groaned. “Please don’t encourage him. Judah’s going to milk this for years.”
“Probably,” Shiloh agreed, crossing her arms and leaning slightly toward her brother. “But isn’t it worth it? You know, for the whole ‘holding hands with your crush’ thing?”
Micah spluttered, his face turning a deeper shade of red as Michelle shot Shiloh a sharp look, though there was a faint blush dusting her cheeks too.
“Shiloh,” Micah muttered, his voice carrying a mixture of warning and embarrassment.
“What? It’s cute,” Shiloh said with a shrug, a modest smile on her lips. “Just don’t act surprised when everyone else jumps on the bandwagon. You’re kinda the last to figure it out.”
Michelle narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “Wait. Everyone else?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shiloh replied nonchalantly. “Literally everyone at the agency saw this coming. Well, except you two, apparently.”
Michelle groaned, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “Great. Just great.”
Micah gave Shiloh an exasperated look. “Could you not?”
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Shiloh said innocently, taking a step back with her hands raised. “Don’t shoot the messenger. And maybe next time, don’t make it so obvious.”
Michelle opened her mouth to retort, but Shiloh was already turning away, calling back over her shoulder, “Good luck dodging Judah! You’re gonna need it.”
As Shiloh disappeared into the crowd, Michelle sighed, shaking her head. “I swear, your family is insufferable.”
Micah chuckled, his fingers still laced with hers. “Yeah, well, they’re not wrong.”
Michelle rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away, a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “Come on, let’s get out of here before someone else decides to give us their two cents.”
Micah nodded, and they started walking again. Their pace was slow, almost lazy, as if neither of them was in any hurry to let go. The hallways were quieter now, most of the agents either busy with tasks or gathered elsewhere.
As they reached a side corridor, Michelle glanced up at him. “So… what now?”
Micah looked down at her, his expression softening. “Now? I guess we just… figure it out.”
Michelle snorted. “Great plan, Captain.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Hey, it’s a start.”
Before Michelle could respond, Judah’s voice rang out from a nearby doorway. “You two better not be sneaking off for alone time!”
Michelle’s head snapped toward him, her glare icy enough to make lava freeze over. “Don’t you have something better to do, Judah?”
Judah smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Not really. Watching this is way more entertaining.”
Michelle started to retort, but Micah squeezed her hand gently, pulling her attention back to him. “Ignore him,” he said quietly. “He’ll get bored eventually.”
Michelle arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“Not really,” Micah admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s worth a shot.”
Michelle sighed, shaking her head. “Your family is going to be the death of me.”
Micah laughed softly, his thumb brushing against hers as they walked away. “Welcome to the club.”
The common room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of low lighting. The faint hum of the agency’s systems created a gentle background noise, and the faint aroma of coffee and tea lingered in the air from earlier use of the side kitchen.
Micah and Michelle found their way to the couch, where they’d sat countless times before with the others. This time, though, there was no playful banter filling the air, no arguments over whose turn it was to clean up, no Judah sprawled across the beanbags making loud, unnecessary commentary. Just the two of them, navigating the sudden shift between familiar and unfamiliar.
They sat close—not quite touching, but not far apart either. Michelle settled back, her shoulders relaxed against the cushions as she leaned ever so slightly into him. Micah swallowed, his heart skipping as the warmth of her presence pressed softly against his side.
He wasn’t sure where to put his arm. Should he drape it across the back of the couch? Keep it firmly by his side? Or would she think that was too stiff? He went with a middle ground, resting his hand lightly on his thigh, even though it felt awkward.
Michelle let out a soft sigh, her head dipping ever so slightly toward him. The movement sent a flicker of warmth through his chest, but also a cascade of thoughts.
Was she his girlfriend now?
The idea sent his heart racing. They hadn’t talked about it—hadn’t labeled anything. Not that they’d even had time to, anyway. But… this didn’t feel like just friendship anymore. The way she’d hugged him earlier, held his hand, and leaned into him now—it all felt different.
But was it? What if he’d misread everything? What if this was just her way of showing gratitude or trust?
Michelle’s voice broke his spiral. “You’re awfully quiet,” she murmured, her tone light but tired, like she was testing the waters.
Micah blinked, glancing down at her. “Oh, uh, sorry. Just… thinking.”
“Thinking, huh?” Michelle tilted her head slightly, peering up at him with an unreadable expression. “That’s dangerous.”
Micah chuckled weakly. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot to think about.”
Michelle didn’t respond right away. Her gaze drifted across the room, her fingers tracing the seam of the couch absentmindedly. “You’re not second-guessing everything already, are you?”
“What? No,” Micah said quickly, his voice more defensive than he intended. He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… maybe a little.”
Michelle raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re overthinking.”
Micah huffed, glancing away. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” she countered, shifting just enough to catch his gaze again. “You’re doing that thing where you get all quiet and awkward.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am overthinking. It’s just… this is new. And I don’t really know what to call… this.”
Michelle blinked, the teasing edge in her expression softening. “This?”
“Yeah, like…” Micah gestured vaguely between them, his words fumbling. “You know… us.”
For a moment, Michelle didn’t say anything. She just watched him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to piece together his scattered thoughts.
Finally, she leaned back, letting her head rest against the couch. “Well,” she said slowly, “I don’t know either.”
Micah’s heart sank slightly. “Oh.”
“But,” Michelle added quickly, “I don’t think we have to figure it out right now. Do we?”
Micah hesitated, glancing at her. “No, I guess not.”
Michelle gave a small nod, her gaze softening. “Then let’s not overcomplicate it. Let’s just… be. For now.”
Her words settled over him like a balm, soothing the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. He nodded slowly, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Okay.”
Michelle shifted slightly, leaning into him a bit more. Micah froze for a moment, then tentatively let his arm drape across the back of the couch—not quite touching her, but close enough that she could lean further if she wanted.
She didn’t say anything, but the way she relaxed against him felt like an answer in itself.
For a while, the silence between them was companionable, broken only by the soft hum of the agency. Michelle’s gaze flickered over to Micah, catching the faint furrow of his brows as he seemed lost in thought again.
But she wasn’t much better.
Her own thoughts churned as she replayed his words in her head. I don’t really know what to call… this.
What was this?
She glanced at the space between them—or, rather, the lack of it. They were sitting closer than they ever had before. And… it felt nice. Really nice. But as her thoughts wandered, she found herself wondering—what would it feel like to lean into him more? To shift just a little closer, to let his arm rest fully around her shoulders, like in the movies.
Would he even want that?
Michelle frowned slightly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She hated this second-guessing feeling—it wasn’t like her. She was usually confident, bold. But with Micah, it felt different. She didn’t want to push, didn’t want to make things awkward.
But the curiosity tugged at her.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice quieter than usual. “Hey, uh…”
Micah turned his head toward her, his expression instantly alert. “Yeah?”
Michelle hesitated, her fingers fidgeting slightly in her lap. “Would you, um…” She exhaled sharply, frustrated at herself for stumbling. “Could you put your arm around me?”
Micah blinked, his eyes widening slightly.
She quickly added, “I mean, if you want to or whatever. No pressure.”
For a moment, he just stared at her, and she immediately regretted saying anything. But then, slowly, he nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, if also slightly higher. “I can do that.”
He moved his arm from the back of the couch, hesitating for a moment before letting it settle around her shoulders. His touch was light, almost cautious, as though he was afraid he might overstep.
Michelle leaned into the contact slightly, but she couldn’t help the small snort that escaped her.
“God, you’re such a nervous wreck,” she teased, as if she wasn’t the same way, her tone dry but fond. “Loosen up a little.”
Micah let out a breathy laugh, his cheeks turning red. “Sorry, I’m not exactly… experienced with this kind of thing.”
“Clearly,” she muttered, though there was no real bite in her tone.
He adjusted his arm slightly, his hold becoming less stiff, more natural. Michelle relaxed against him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.
“There,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. “That’s better.”
Micah smiled faintly, his nerves slowly giving way to something warmer, more comfortable.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze drifting to the soft strands of her hair resting against his shoulder. “It is.”
And for the first time in a long while, both of them felt completely at ease.
The warmth between them settled into a quiet kind of peace, the soft hum of the agency and distant muffled voices from the corridor filling the space around them. For the first time in what felt like forever, Michelle wasn’t on edge. No fights to plan, no escape routes to map out, no sarcasm to armor herself with—just this moment.
She shifted slightly, adjusting so she could nestle a bit more comfortably against Micah’s side. She felt the slight rise and fall of his chest, steady and calming, and the way his arm tightened just a fraction as she moved.
Micah’s heart was racing. He was sure Michelle could probably feel it with how close they were. But at the same time, he didn’t feel the overwhelming pressure he expected to. She had this way of keeping him grounded, even when he felt like he was floundering in uncharted waters.
“You know,” she murmured after a while, her voice softer than usual, “this isn’t so bad.”
Micah chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “What, sitting still for five minutes without anyone interrupting?”
Michelle smirked against his shoulder. “That too. But I meant this.” She tilted her head up slightly, meeting his gaze. “You and me. Being… whatever this is.”
He swallowed hard, her words making his heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… nice.”
Her lips twitched into a small smile, a rare softness in her expression. “Guess you’re not completely hopeless after all, Nelson.”
“Gee, thanks,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth quirked up in response.
For a while, they simply stayed like that, letting the comfortable silence stretch between them. Michelle could feel the tension easing out of her shoulders, something she hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone.
Micah, meanwhile, found himself glancing down at her every so often, marveling at how unguarded she looked. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her like this—not even during their quiet moments in the field.
The silence lingered, comfortable and unspoken, but beneath it, the tension that had once existed between them began to melt away. Michelle’s head remained lightly resting on Micah’s shoulder, her breath steady and slow, as if the simple act of being close to him was enough to soothe the edges of her usually sharp world. Her thoughts, which were often filled with planning, scheming, and taking control, seemed to quiet for the first time in ages.
Micah, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the occasional glance down at her. He caught himself doing it often, as though checking to make sure this wasn’t a dream—this rare moment of peace, of quiet togetherness. Her presence was so solid, so there, that it anchored him in a way he didn’t quite understand.
For a while, neither of them spoke. It was almost as if they both knew that saying anything would break the spell of this soft, uncomplicated closeness.
But then Michelle shifted, the movement slight, but enough to make Micah feel it in the way his heartbeat sped up again.
Michelle immediately noticed the way his heart raced beneath her. The steady rhythm she had been so attuned to earlier in their silence had quickened, and she could feel it pulsing against her ear, almost as if it was trying to keep pace with the sudden rush of tension between them.
She hadn’t expected that. Micah did panic some under pressure, but was always steady when it mattered, as earlier that day has proven. He didn’t flinch or jump at things like Elijah or Judah. But now, with her head resting against his chest, she could feel the subtle shift—the way his body reacted to her being even closer. It made her pause for a split second, her thoughts swirling.
Her instinct was to tease him, to pull away just a little and call him out on it, but something stopped her. She stayed where she was, her cheek pressed against his shirt, listening to the erratic thump of his heart.
“Micah,” she murmured, her voice soft, but with a hint of amusement. “You okay?”
He swallowed, unsure of what to say, his voice coming out a little strained. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… didn’t expect this.”
Michelle could feel the slight tension in his voice, the way he still seemed a little unsure of himself. The part of her that loved to poke fun at people—it wasn’t going anywhere. But for once, she didn't feel the usual need to push him, to break the silence with a sharp quip or a cutting remark.
Instead, she just breathed in, the scent of him faintly familiar—clean, warm, with a hint of something metallic from their last mission. She liked it.
“I get it,” she said quietly, her hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers. “I’m not exactly used to this either.”
Micah’s head tilted slightly, and for the first time, he let himself relax a little more. His arm shifted, pulling her just a little closer, as though unsure but wanting to hold her there. “Yeah?” His voice was quieter, almost as if it had dropped an octave, softer than usual.
Michelle nodded, her fingers still resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her touch. She didn’t have to look up to know that his gaze was on her, but she didn’t mind. For once, she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words. Just being there, together, was enough.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “I don’t do… this. I don’t let people in. Not like this.”
Micah’s chest tightened a little, his breath catching in a way that made her realize just how vulnerable he was being in that moment. His fingers brushed her arm gently, the touch barely there but enough to convey a softness that he rarely allowed anyone to see.
“You don’t have to explain,” he said quietly. “I get it. I’m not exactly... good at letting people close either. Well, you know that better than anyone,”
She hummed in response, her eyes closing for a second, feeling the sincerity in his words settle deep within her. She had never known how to deal with people who didn’t want something from her. Micah, though, he seemed different. He didn’t want anything from her—at least not in the way people usually did. Not her skills, not her sarcasm, not her strength. Just her.
She exhaled slowly, letting her breath blend with his. “I don’t know what’s happening here,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to mess it up.”
Micah stayed quiet for a long moment, his hand slowly sliding down to her back, his thumb brushing along her jacket in slow, deliberate circles. It wasn’t an attempt to push her, it wasn’t an invitation to pull away. It was simply a way of staying connected, of grounding himself in the moment.
“You’re not gonna mess it up,” he said softly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.
Michelle took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. His reassurance settled in her chest, but there was still a lingering sense of uncertainty. She wasn’t used to feeling so… open. Vulnerable. And yet, here she was, letting her guard down in a way she hadn’t for anyone else in a long time.
“I don’t know how to do this, Micah,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, the words almost hesitant. “I’m not... good at this.”
His hand, still resting against her back, shifted just slightly, drawing her a bit closer, as if to let her know he was there, that she wasn’t alone in this moment.
“You’re doing fine,” he murmured, his voice steady and calm. “And you don’t have to be perfect at it. I’m not asking you to be.”
Michelle chuckled softly at that, a bitter edge to it. “You’re probably the only person who would say that and actually mean it.”
There was a brief silence, a moment where the weight of their words seemed to settle between them. And then, Micah’s voice broke through it, quiet and sincere.
“I mean it. You don’t have to be perfect for me. You just have to be you.”
She lifted her head slightly, looking up at him through her lashes, her expression soft but guarded. “And what if... what if I don’t know what I want? What if I screw everything up?”
Micah’s gaze softened, and he reached up, his hand gently cupping her chin, guiding her face toward his. The touch was tentative, as if he was giving her a chance to pull away. But Michelle didn’t. She let him, staying there, her breath catching slightly as their eyes locked.
“I think… it’s okay to not know,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I don’t have all the answers either. But we don’t have to have everything figured out right now. We can just… be here, together.”
She stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity, but finding none. There was only softness, only a quiet kind of certainty. It was both unsettling and comforting all at once.
Michelle’s heart thudded in her chest, not from panic, but from something deeper. Something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.
Slowly, she leaned in, just a fraction, her lips brushing against his in a soft, uncertain kiss. It wasn’t forceful, wasn’t urgent—it was tentative, like testing the waters of something new, something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
But it felt right.
When she pulled away, there was a moment of silence again, just the two of them breathing in the same space, both uncertain but both there, present.
Micah let out a soft breath, his hand still resting against her chin, his thumb gently caressing her skin. “That was…” He faltered, not quite sure how to finish the thought, but Michelle just smiled softly at him.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “It was.”