Masquerade Gala . . . Synopsis: After able to sneak out of the gala for a quiet moment, Micah went outside to place a phone call to Sofia. ( @sirensofia )
Micah stepped outside, the coolness of the night air brisk and soothing against the heat of his face as he looked at Sofia's name in his contact list. For a moment, all he did was stare at the image displayed, her name surrounded by star emojis, her contact picture a selfie of the two of them taken while they'd been laying in his bed, her hair thick and swirling around her, his smile half disappeared within the strands. He tapped the call button and waited. Sofia's phone rested beside her in the bath, she hadn't picked it up since she had laid herself down in the warm waters after the fight she'd had with Roman had concluded or...well, it hadn't concluded so much as they'd both given up on arguing their points. She argued he should care enough about her to accept she needed Micah, he argued she shouldn't ask him to watch it. Nothing had really been settled, he'd started drinking until she could hear him snoring on the couch with Seymour and she laid there in the waters, staring at the gown on the ground she didn't feel she'd truly been able to wear, wetness lingering in her eyes.
Of course, once the phone began to ring her eyes moved towards it, Micah's adorable face appearing with a crown emoji, a heated face emoji and a star emoji next to the word 'King.' She almost didn't answer, his happy face so different from the one that had turned away from her, but...she wanted to hear it from him, that what had happened was too much, one hand swiping to answer as the other absentmindedly touched at the tattoo on her chest, the one Micah had inked her with himself.
"King," she whispered, not to hide her words, Roman was dead to the world when he slept, but instead because her voice was weak from shouting. Hearing her voice answer the call was almost enough to break him down, the coarse sound of her voice, strained either by emotions or by distortion from the phone he couldn't be sure, he hoped for the latter but assumed the former. "Sofia," he said to her, his own voice strained to the point it was painful as it left his lips, "I'm sorry," he said to her, every thing flooding out from him, "I shouldn't have come up to you at that time. I should have waited. I didn't mean to make things harder for you," he felt it then, a rising panic he hadn't thought he might ever feel, but it clutched at his heart with sour acidity and stole the breath from his lungs. What if she never wanted to see him again? Sofia put his own strained voice up to what Roman had done, she'd seen the blood coming down from his nose, no doubt some had gone down his throat, worn at his vocal chords, she just hoped he could do whatever witches did to make it better again. "I told you to, I didn't -" She didn't think Roman would do that when she had asked him not to when she had left the club, when she'd assured him she'd spoken to Micah. But it didn't matter, she shouldn't have told Micah it was okay simply because she wanted it to be okay. "You didn't make it harder for me, I've made it harder for me," she insisted, index finger pushing back and forward over her tattoo. "I know why you had to walk away. You can't just keep appeasing me, especially when you have...someone to dance with." Someone to dance with? He was confused by that implication but the realization slowly dawned on him as a silence stretched out between them. I'd only dance with you if you wanted me to, he almost said, felt the words bubble up in his throat until he swallowed them down along with the thickness of his saliva. "There's no one else," he said instead and nudged at the perfectly manicured lawn with the toe of his scuffed up boots. "Are you okay?" The question was a hard one, because no, she did not feel remotely okay, even in the warm and soothing waters of the tub that usually were capable of offering her relative relief she felt afraid. It had never mattered to Sofia what anyone thought of her because she knew none of them actually knew who she was, everyone in that room thought she was a whore and a tease and probably other things that were far worse but it was only when Micah turned away that it felt like any of that was true, or that it mattered - because if it was what he was thinking it tore her apart. Her thoughts, of course, had kept her silent for a few moments. "You didn't stay with me," she whispered, because in the end that was what hurt. Whoever that girl was that had kept touching him, that had followed him didn't matter in the moment, especially if Micah said there was no one else, but knowing why he had not stayed did. Her words once more pierced him directly in the chest, actively causing him to shut his eyes tight against the feeling, pressing the edge of his phone to the center of his lips, perhaps inadvertently bringing attention to the shaky intake of his breath. He brought his phone back up to his ear as he started to speak, "I didn't. I'm sorry. Emily was so upset-" he didn't know how to put it into words, everything happened all at once, emotions overflowed, he felt shame and guilt and regret all in equal measures, all more profoundly felt upon hearing her voice so small and quiet on the other line. "I thought you would be upset with me. I'm upset with myself. Is Roman okay? I didn't hurt him, did I?" Applying the blame to himself because ultimately, even if it had been the ghost of his sister hijacking his body to push the older man, it was still his responsibility. He just hadn't expected that. She'd only ever pushed over a random thing from a shelf or hid some shoes when she got upset, never before had she taken control of his limbs, not knowing it was something she was capable of but apparently the strength of her emotions had made it so. No doubt Micah heard the sound of water moving as Sofia sat up in the bath upon hearing the word 'Emily,' that his little sister had become upset. Of course, she'd been there, but Sofia couldn't see her and out of sight out of mind. His voice seemingly worried as he asked about Roman, heart nearly breaking for him because she was so wrong about what she'd seen. "I'm not upset with you," she rushed, caring he knew that more than whether or not she cared about Roman being hurt - mostly because he hadn't been. Micah was clearly concerned though so she did answer, "you didn't hurt him, Emily didn't - she didn't hurt him bad." Leaning forward in the bath Sofia's finger couldn't stop touching her tattoo. "Is she okay?" Sofia asked, worry evident as her voice had lifted to a level louder with concern. Micah heard the water sloshing on the other end of the line, concern heavy in her voice and relief rushed into his chest. "She's-" he didn't actually know. After things had calmed down he hadn't felt her presence as strongly as he usually did, almost as if she'd exerted a lot of her energy in hijacking his body and he could barely felt her. "I think she's okay. I don't actually know. She's never done anything like that before." He didn't think he needed to explain how Emily normally was, they'd met, sort of. "I'm glad he isn't badly hurt." He suspected he'd feel worse if any real damage had been inflicted. Sofia drew her legs up against her chest, the water still moving, growing colder as she remained in it, aware she would need to turn the tap on again soon to add more hot water but far too focused on Micah. "I thought that you were just trying to make sure he didn't go for a second shot," she acknowledged when Micah said she'd never done anything like that before, presuming Micah hadn't intended to attack so much as defend. At the notion of how hurt Roman was though Sofia simply was not willing to care in the moment. Their fight had felt like an exercise in doubt because however many times he had repeated he wanted her he had informed her just as many times he didn't trust her, and unfortunately it was hard for Sofia to really defend herself. "Are you okay?" she asked instead, because that she was worried about. "I - I hate that I'm the reason someone hurt you. I hated seeing you walk away, I know you said you were worried about Emily, I just - I thought you -," once more Sofia's voice became quiet her bottom lip shaking as she tried to form words, toes curling against the plastic base of the cheap trailer bath. "I thought you were done with me and I hated - I hated seeing someone else get to chase after you." The words the exact reason Roman did not trust her, because she hadn't needed to speak them for the older man to sense just how much Micah meant to her. Micah touched the bridge of his nose gingerly, still a bit sore even after the healing efforts made by the older man in the bathroom. Undoubtedly still bruised and discolored but he could not check on how badly. "I'm fine," he said to her, he would have said he was fine even if he wasn't, if just to reassure her that it could be true. "Sofia," he started to say, chest aching more than his face upon hearing the way her voice wavered. He took a moment before responding, silence stretching out, the breeze ruffling his hair, hearing the echoing drip of water and quiet breathing close to his ear, "I'm never going to be done with you." He'd come to that realization after Elora has kissed him suddenly and his thoughts immediately had compared those lips to Sofia and found fault in them for not tasting like watermelon lip gloss. Fine didn't quite sound like fine but Sofia wasn't going back to that place, even if Roman might not notice her leave, might not notice her come back she knew the joy of the evening was lost to her. Especially so if she had to look at his face all evening knowing it was her fault, that guilt growing in the silence between him saying her name and continuing on.
When he did speak Sofia's finger paused it's nervous movements. She had, obviously, asked him not to be done with her in his garage but she had needed to hear it, eyes falling to the tap in the tub, conscious of how far they were from one another presently. "And I'll never let you go," she promised him, fullness to her words, unshaken, unsure of how much what had happened made him worry on it.
"You should enjoy the rest of your night though, you had intended to dance with a lot of people," Sofia continued, hand falling to turn on the hot water tap while her toe pushed down on the plug for some of the cold water to drain out. "That girl," she acknowledged, unable to help herself as the rushing of water was no doubt heard beneath her voice. "Who was she?" Finally, it seemed, the ache in his chest soothed, not realizing how much of it had been a mixture of his anxiety within his care for her. "I don't really feel like dancing," he admitted, voice soft. He heard the rushing of water, thoughts now filled with it as it acted as a backdrop to her words. "She's a friend," a parallel of Elora's own line of questioning toward him, except he'd respond by saying Sofia’s name, which had been filled with enough meaning that he hadn’t needed to say anything else. In this case, he needed to explain, not for Sofia’s sake, not really, it was but mostly because there was nothing within his words when he spoke of her name, "Elora. She's just a friend." Part of Sofia was ready to suggest he leave, that they meet up but it seemed like a recipe for disaster after all that had happened. "I wish we'd been able to finish our dance, I didn't even listen for what song you'd picked," she admitted, so distracted by his hair and his mask, the sun symbol on his forehead.
There was nothing in his words however when he mentioned the woman who had followed him was a friend, Sofia listening for an indication there was a romanticism there, one Micah no doubt had to hear when she spoke of Roman. "A friend," she repeated, the water heating her skin, making was not beneath it grow goosebumps. "So...were I to be jealous it would be unattractive?" she asked, a playfulness to her words because she obviously was jealous but would not do anything because his word was all she needed. "Nothing you do could be unattractive," he said to her, voice still quiet, his fingers had found the center of his chest, pressing over the ink concealed beneath the fabric of his shirt, always aware of it but more so now with her voice so close to his ear and the rest of her so far away. He wished he knew a spell that could transport him to her side but he did not. He was still alone outside of the gala, looking in through the glowing windows at the spectacle within. The guests, it seemed, had forgotten what had happened earlier. The fight no long important when a night of festivities was still available to them. "We can dance to our song later. Next time I see you," a hopefulness that she would still want that. A laugh escaped her lips, as musical as it tended to be with her bemused sarcasm stuck to it at times. There were certainly two ways she laughed, a gleeful one that came whenever Micah made her exceptionally happy, a one that held a lilting to it because she held a playful teasing to her. That was what came, fingers turning off the tap, and the woman leaning back in the bath once more, olive skin a warmer hue because of the heat. "Our song?" Sofia asked him, finger absentmindedly at her chest once more, a part of her so sure it was like their fingers were touching in that moment. "You picked our song without me." Tips of her hair wet she continued to smile, grateful that after an evening like this Micah could still shift her entire mood in an instant, magic in more ways than what being a witch afforded him. "See me tomorrow," she requested, her a self centered need. "I did not," was his prompt reply which he elaborated on quickly, "You did. We did. Maybe it was always there and I just wrote it down but I didn't pick it without you. If anything, it was a collaboration." Speaking with a rising enthusiasm now that it felt nothing had changed between them, nothing that would have produced a wedge between them. If anything, he felt closer to her. "I will see you tomorrow," he promised her, another one in a collection of promises. His response, so quick and insistent made Sofia smile in the waters of the bath. "Neither of us picked it, it simply was," she acknowledged back, feeling that natural flow that had always existed between them, glad that when Roman had shattered the man's nose he hadn't shattered that in the process. "You think our song might change one day?" she asked him, an odd hopefulness as she had a feeling the song they had now was...a little heartbreaking. "I should let you go," she noted, even though she knew she could have stayed on the phone with him all night, willing to do so and happy to simply sleep next to him when they met up if they did made the silly choice of conversing until sunrise. "Our song will change," he felt that with a firm confidence. Their situation as it was now would change and when it did, so too would their song and he was eager to hear what it would sound like then and who they would be. Her words might have simply been referring to hanging up the call but he interpreted it differently and responded by saying, "No, you really shouldn't, but I'll let you get some rest," he smiled into his phone, "I'll text you when I get home. This party is suddenly very lame without you here." Sofia smiled, that same sort of smile he had as he told her that no she should not let him go. "I won't then," she assured, him, keeping the phone close as she exhaled a breath that sounded so different from her earlier ones that came with exhaustion and worry, this one was a breath of relief, like she could breath again. "Text me when you get home," Sofia agreed. "Before I hang up though...will you wear your suit tomorrow? I - I feel like I didn't get to wear my dress and I don't really care if we're just in your garage I'd - I'd still maybe want to dance with you." Micah nodded though she could not see, "We never did finish our dance. I'll play you our song and we can dance to it. You in your gown and me in my suit." He paused a moment before saying, "I have your mask, Cinderella. Better make sure it still fits tomorrow." She felt his yes in his words even if she couldn't see him nodding, lingering in her own smile and the comfort of their companionship, unnamed as it was. Typically she would have laughed, some idiot man calling her Cinderella, but on Micah's lips it didn't feel like a line to get her into bed, it felt like the warmth of his heart offering her a place to be soft, to not be so hard, wondering in that thought if Micah had heard the way she spoke to Elora and noted that the Sofia he saw was not the one everyone else received, but, shaking her own head, she decided not to care. "I should have known you'd find it, Prince Charming."
