Chapter 24: Why'd you die?

  —The next morning—

  Noah groaned, stretching his arms as he blinked groggily awake. His eyes drifted to the empty spot beside him. Strange. Micah would never miss a chance to be close.

  And then last night came rushing back.

  “Will you bed with me?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  OH.

  His face burned.

  Damn… he’s going to kill me one day. Both my sanity and my innocence.

  He sighed, sinking deeper into the mattress. Halloween morning. Daniel’s party was tonight, but right now his priority was Micah. Where was he?

  A soft groan answered his question. Noah suddenly became aware of the weight pressing against him — starting from his abdomen down to his legs. He lifted the blanket.

  Micah’s head rested on his stomach, arms wrapped tightly around his hips, tail curled possessively into Noah’s shirt. Noah’s face flamed. His shirt had ridden up, exposing smooth skin where Micah’s cheek lay, his breathing slow and deep.

  Heat rose in Noah’s chest, spreading to his stomach.

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  Micah had Noah’s legs parted, his own body nestled between them, their limbs tangled together.

  Noah’s brain screamed: Push him away! Push him away!

  But his body betrayed him, frozen in place. Micah looked too peaceful, too innocent in sleep — though the words he spoke when awake were anything but.

  Noah nudged him gently.

  Micah stretched, mumbling groggily, “Five more minutes…”

  He stayed still for a moment, then sat up, blinking at Noah.

  “Noah?!” He reached up and hugged him tightly.

  Noah blinked, confused.

  “Why did you die last night?” Micah asked matter?of?factly.

  “What?!”

  “You fell in my arms…”

  “I didn’t die! I fainted — b?because of what you said!”

  Micah blinked, giving him the most innocent look imaginable. Noah groaned, dragging himself out of bed and into the kitchen, questioning every life choice that led him here.

  He didn’t hate Micah.

  But he didn’t exactly like him in a friend way either.

  Micah padded in after him, ears twitching, tail curled around his leg.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “So am I.”

  “But you’re making the food.”

  “So?”

  “You shouldn’t be hungry!”

  “Eh?! W?what… Y?you…” Noah stuttered helplessly.

  Micah’s face lit up with pure delight.

  “Can I feed you?”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Micah’s arms wrapped around him.

  Noah’s breath caught. “N?no… fine.”

  Micah grinned.

  —Ten minutes later—

  “Open wide~!”

  “I’m not a baby.”

  “I know. You’re just cute.”

  I hate him.

  Noah wanted to argue, but how had the tables turned like this? When they first met, he was the one teasing Micah. Now Noah was constantly flustered, teased, undone. Micah seemed both aware and unaware of what he was doing.

  Noah scowled, but it didn’t last. Micah’s smile melted his heart — it was impossible to stay mad at him.

  “Do you need help decorating?” Micah asked after feeding Noah the last bite.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll help either way!” Micah suddenly lifted Noah and spun him around.

  “Put me down!”

  But even as he said it, he didn’t want to be put down.

  No. I think I’m in love.