pcranoidâ:
â Maybe you ought to work on sticking around,  hm? â  She teases gently before collapsing into the plush cushions on sofa,  hand swiping wine glass from side table before getting comfortable.  Thereâs a vague gesture to the bottle on the counter behind her in kitchen.  â Help yourself to wine.  Thereâs also vodka and tequila around somewhere if you need something a little stronger. â
Brow quirks at his particularly cheeky comment,  head shaking as she laughs.  â You and I both know nothing beats the buzz of New York City.  Even our darling friendship. â  Deep down she knows that it isnât true,  sheâd trade anything in a heartbeat for Micah.  Heâd been the only person she was able to fully trust,  holding him in much higher regard than her family or work related friends.  Hues dance across the well decorated room that was currently bathing in soft golden hues from fireplace and a few mood lights here and there,  a fondness for new home already beginning to rear itâs head.  Even though it was a far cry from her place back in New York.  â You know if you need a designer with exquisite taste Iâm just a phone call away. â  Brows waggle in his direction as she takes a sip of wine.  â Now,  now,  Deja Vu has served me well in all itâs small town glory.  But I wouldnât be opposed to making the best of things for old times sake.  Just as long as that idiot Theodore isnât trailing behind us. â
ââ
It was always funny how often they had gravitated towards each other. There were so many faces that lurked in the background of his upbringing â the same families, the same names â generations raising the next to carry on businesses and legacies. Micah always had a talent for charming others in the dull conversations, aiming to be a welcomed distraction to adults to allow his peers to escape the watchful eyes of their parents. Choreographed steps around the ballroom had crafted their own waltz of slipping off the dancefloor, a smooth escape from the pretentious pageantry of it all.Â
Micah could count on one hand the select few people whose company he genuinely liked keeping. Joselyn was towards the very top - she always had been. Though they were closer in age to each otherâs siblings, Micah considered her just as close as his family, if not closer. That sentiment only deepened in the aftermath of the accident â no one else had seen him so utterly broken, and he hoped no one would ever again.Â
He floats into the kitchen, letting his fingers curl into a grip around the slim neck of the glasswareâs stem. Oceanic hues flicker over the selection, ultimately landing upon the wine. Heâs grateful for moments such as these â a chance to leave his burdens outside the door and to just get away from all of the bullshit. Heâs tried to offer that same courtesy.Â
âNo. Nothing quite beats the city â except maybe us being in the city.â A perch beside the brunette is settled into. âIf I stay, Iâm getting a dog, a beach house, and a date,â he offers lightly. âNot necessarily in that order.â The wine swirls around the vessel before he turns to appraise Joselyn. He nudges her lightly, eyebrows quirking up accordingly. âWhy am I nicer to your fiancĂŠs than you are??â He drops to one knee solemnly. âIt shouldâve been me.â Micah uprights himself, dropping lazily back into the seat. âHow have things been â truly??â














