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The camp was filled with music from Dutch’s gramophone tonight. Everyone was taking it easy this evening, spending some time relaxing and socializing. Dutch was dancing with Molly, who he seemed to be on good terms with again. Karen and Sean were talking by the fire. A few of the men were playing poker to the side.
It was a nice evening.
You were seated next to Mary-Beth while she read one of her favorite novels. You were planning on relaxing soon, but you were still working on repairing a tear in your spare blouse. You were sewing the material back together as you listened to the conversations and laughter that filled the camp.
You looked up again, admiring Dutch and Molly as they swayed together. It must be nice, having a man to hold you and dance with you. You were envious of it. Looking around, you couldn’t think of a man who would want to dance with you. You were much too shy to approach anyone, anyway.
You focused back on your sewing, and as you worked, you heard footsteps approach where you sat with Mary-beth.
“O- O- On this beautiful night, will you dance with me, Miss Mary-Beth?”
“No, I will not.”
Mary-Beth’s answer came so quick, you looked up from where you had been sewing by the dim light of a lantern. Her rejection was so sudden it startled you. She hadn’t given Micah a second thought. You supposed she didn’t like him very much, but you thought she might’ve been polite enough to let him down easier.
“You’re… I got two left feet,” she dismissed.
Micah scoffed and continued talking to her.
“I’m not a monster, miss.”
“No, of course you’re not. You’re not that interesting.”
Ouch.
“...very funny,” Micah huffed, starting to seethe with anger at the rejection.
You watched as he breathed heavily, probably trying to avoid exploding in anger at Mary-Beth at her refusal. Micah stormed away across the camp, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket, and you couldn’t help but feel…
Sympathy?
No, that wasn’t quite it. You couldn’t put a name on it, but you felt something. Jealousy at Mary-Beth for having a man who wanted her, but she rejected him. Empathy for Micah being rejected. Desire to walk after him and tell him that you’ll have him.
Were you really that desperate to have a man hold you? You remember Karen once told you men weren’t worth shit, but she still had Sean. It wasn’t fair.
You set your sewing work aside, standing up before you really knew what you were doing. Mary-beth asked where you were going, but you paid her no mind as you crossed camp on a mission. You didn’t have a plan, but you were going to act on this newfound confidence before you lost your nerve.
You approached where Micah was leaning against a tree at the edge of camp, facing away from everyone as he lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips. You watched a cloud of smoke billow away from his face as he let out a heavy sigh, likely working to bottle up the negative emotions Mary-Beth had triggered in him.
“Mr. Bell,” you greeted quietly to let him know you were approaching.
Micah straightened up his stance a little but remained leaning against the tree he nodded to you.
“Miss,” he greeted. “You fancy a smoke?”
“Hmm? Oh, no thank you, I don’t smoke.”
Micah scoffed softly but didn’t comment, taking in another breath of nicotine and exhaling the smoke gently into the cool night air.
“Then why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Real funny,” he chuckled bitterly. “Come to laugh at me, then?”
“What? No!” You shook your head. “That’s not it at all.”
“Sure. What else could you want?”
“I want to dance with you.”
Micah looked over at you instantly, eyeing you carefully. It revealed his surprise before he cooled his expression to something suspicious, like this was a trick you were playing on him.
“I mean it,” you insisted, taking a step forward and offering your hand. “I’ll have you, Mr. Bell. Mary-Beth’s just gonna have to miss out.”
Micah stared at your hand for a moment, watching it carefully like it might bite him. But after a while, he grinned and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, flicking it away into the woods as he pushed off the tree.
Micah stepped into your personal space and set a hand on your back, grinning like a cat who got the cream.
“Let’s head back then, hm?” he murmured, and you followed his lead back to the center of camp, closer to the music.
Micah stopped you near the campfire, where you could easily hear the music, and where everyone else could clearly see you dancing with him. You wondered if he was trying to show off that he got a woman in his arms, either trying to show off to the men or make Mary-Beth jealous. You didn’t care, all you did was smile and wrap your arms around his neck.
Micah’s hands settled on your waist as he swayed drunkenly to the music with you- because he was drunk, of course he was. You don’t think a night goes by where he isn’t. It just made him more fun.
Micah was far from a professional dancer. You stumbled together, tripped on each other’s feet, bumped into his stomach, and nearly toppled over when he tried to dip you. But you were having fun, and that’s what matters. Your laughter filled the entire camp as Micah pulled you back into his arms, grinning at the sight of you enjoying his company.
When the gramophone’s song reached its end, you wrapped your arms around Micah’s neck and pulled his head down closer to yours. You smiled, tilting your head up to knock your nose into his gently.
“Thank you, Mr. Bell, I had a wonderful time.”
“Mm, me too.” He smiled, sliding his hand along your back. “And you can call me Micah, Miss.”
“I just might.”
You twirled a strand of his hair around your finger to tease him, tilting your head to smile up at him and bat your eyelashes. The trick worked, because Micah leaned down and pressed a kiss firmly against your lips.
You might have to ask Micah to dance more often.