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latoya’s idea of a relaxed afternoon was dragging everyone to hayvenhurst under the guise of hanging out by the pool, which mostly just meant sitting in the grass while everyone traded updates on their personal lives.
"look, all i'm saying is he's in your department," one if your friends said, nudging you with her foot. "he's asked about you twice. just give the guy five minutes of your time."
"i don't want to give him five minutes," you said, staring up at the sky. "i like my house. i like my bed. my bed doesn't ask me what my favorite color is."
latoya snorted, leaning back on her elbows. "you can't stay single forever just because you refuse to leave your room."
"watch me."
"it’s not that hard," latoya argued. "you literally just have to go out. men exist everywhere.”
"they don't just drop into your lap, toy," you said, rolling your eyes. “’cos if they did, i probably won't be single right now.”
"c’mon, we're touring the grounds," latoya announced, standing up and brushing off her shorts. "maybe fresh air will fix your attitude."
the estate was massive, quiet, and mostly peaceful—until you walked past a particularly large oak tree near the side of the main house.
there was a sharp crack of a branch, a frantic muffling of a curse word, and before you could even register the sudden shifting of leaves above your head, something heavy collided with your shoulder. you went down hard, hitting the grass with a muffled thump, your head instantly hitting the ground.
everything went dark for about three seconds.
when your eyes blinked open, the sky was replaced by four panicked faces staring down at you. right in the center was a guy with a thick afro, a striped shirt, and an expression of absolute, unadulterated terror.
"is she breathing?" latoya asked.
"yep, still alive," you grunted, holding the back of your head. "what hit me?"
"he did," one of the girls said, pointing directly at the guy next to latoya.
he was hovering on his knees, hands wringing together like he was about to be executed on the spot.
"i am so sorry," he stammered, his voice ridiculously high with anxiety. "i was—i was just sitting up there and the branch gave out. i didn't mean to—are you okay? do you need to go to the hospital?"
you stared at him, taking in the wide, horrified eyes. "latoya, who's that?"
"that's my brother, michael," latoya said, though she was already fighting a smirk. "michael, this is my friend."
you groaned, rubbing your forehead as you sat up slowly. "right. well. nice to meet you, michael. guess you found your landing pad for today."
"i'm really, really sorry," michael repeated, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "i lost my balance. i—i swear i wasn't trying to jump on you."
"it's fine," you said dryly, testing your jaw. "i did say men don't just drop into your lap, but clearly I was wrong. universe made a point."
latoya covered her mouth, biting back a laugh, while your other friends tried to hold back their laughs as well. "okay, well, since you're not dead, we're gonna go get some ice from the kitchen."
"don't leave me here with him," you muttered, but latoya was already dragging the rest of the girls toward the house, leaving a trail of giggles behind them.
michael stayed frozen on the grass, sitting on his heels, watching you like you were made of glass. "does your head hurt bad? i can go get my mom, or call a doctor—"
"buddy," you said, looking over at him. "relax. my head throbs a little, but my pride is intact. stop looking like you just committed a felony."
he let out a breathless, quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just... i feel terrible. I'm usually better at climbing that one."
"good to know you have a routine," you said, adjusting your position in the grass so you were sitting cross-legged. "is this how you usually meet people, or was I a special case?"
"definitely a special case," he murmured, his posture finally relaxing a bit. he offered a shy smile. "usually people just shake my hand."
"boring," you said simply. "this builds character."
he giggled—a quiet, light sound—and sat down fully across from you, tucking his legs in. "i'm michael."
"i know. latoya just told me."
"and you? why'd they call you hermit, by the way?"
you muttered your name in response. "i prefer 'homebody', but latoya has a flair for the dramatic." you looked him up and down, taking in the grass stains on his knees. "so, do you spend all your free time waiting in foliage to flatten your sister's friends, or was today just bad luck?"
"just bad luck," he grinned, the initial panic completely fading into something warm and easy. "i was actually trying to get some quiet time."
"guess, i ruined that for you," you said, leaning back on your hands.
"you didn't," he insisted softly. "i still feel like i need to do something for you, though. i feel really bad."
"you really don't need to, i’m fine, honest."
"no, please, i insist," michael said, his expression completely earnest. "let me get you that ice. and—i'm gonna get your number from latoya later so i can check on you tomorrow. just to make sure you don't have a concussion."
years later
"the best part," michael said into the microphone, his voice echoing through the reception hall over the light ambient music, "is that she didn't even yell at me."
the crowd laughed, glasses clinking across the tables. you sat at the head table, shaking your head with a grin as your new husband looked over at you.
"she just sat up, looked me dead in the eye with dirt in her hair, and asked if that was how i usually introduced myself," michael continued, his smile bright under the lights. "i spent three weeks apologizing and begging her to let me take her out to make up for giving her a mild concussion."
he turned to face you directly, his eyes soft. "and honestly? best fall i ever took."
you leaned into the mic set up on your side of the table. "you still owe me for the medical bill, you know."
"i thought marrying you meant my debts were forgiven, mrs. jackson.”