#thespiteful

Dutch was busy mulling over a quote from Evelyn Miller after having buried his head in one of his books for the last few hours. The man was a literary genius there was no doubt about that and Dutch was enlightened by his words. It was why he had been sober this whole time while the rest of camp outside indulged themselves. By now though the leader has decided he may as well show face. This was their party. All of theirs. 

Whilst revelling from the short distance of his tent toward the campfire he finds himself colliding with someone. It’s Micah.-Who is undeniably drunk-he’s muttering something and closer than usual, so close that Dutch is assaulted by the smell of booze on his breath. ❛ Micah- ❜ Before Dutch can speak any more his lips are against Micah’s and he finds his chest beating rapidly.  

You’re amazing Dutch. 

The affection is not rejected as it was needed. Micah was the only one that retained faith and loyalty in the Van der Linde, something that had not gone unnoticed. Once the overall shock has settled he catches himself smirking. 

❛ Sleep it off. ❜ He offers a deep chuckle, patting the other affectionately on his shoulder. ❛ My tents open.  ❜ An atypical invitation for atypical situation.

@clownvillage​ said: ❝ no one’s ever done that to me before. ❞ -thespiteful  ( TOUCH-STARVED STARTERS )

            „That's 'cause ye ain't talkin' to people about all this,“ he gestures with one of his hands to the man's scars, remains curious about the stories behind them but he ain't askin', „Closed off as ye are. I get it, y'all got some kinda reputation t'ing goin' on, wanna seem all rough and tough--- I sure ain't gonna judge ye.“ He wouldn't think of it. 

    As bold as Micah has been before to Seán about that time he got wounded and refused to talk about it Seán was now, see how the tables have turned... He's seen the blood on the man's neck, some in the split ends of his hair, how dirty his hands are; all Seán did was wipe some filth of Micah's sleeve when he offered him a wet cloth. 

    His hand may have lingered a bit too long, wondering... Wondering why Seán keeps up the curiosity about this man who clearly doesn't like to be touched by him. At least it looked that way to Seán. 

Goddammit... 

The burly guy stormed out of the room. It felt like he had barely returned home, or at least what would be their new home for a few days, and here he was, already sent on another mission, a crucial one for sure. The gang had run out of supplies, out of food especially. Someone had to devote themselves and go back outside, throwing themselves right into this terrifying icy storm. 

Arthur hadn’t exactly happily learnt he’d be that someone. Along with Micah. To whom he gave a swift side glance, annoyed, even pissed. Morgan hated the situation he was in. Square jaws clenched, fists tightening, he gritted his teeth ; rough callous hands grabbed the reins of his horse.

“Charles just had to have dis fuckin’ wounded hand ! he growled in a low gravelly undertone, mostly talking to himself, snarling louder out of discontent afterwards as he climbed on his horse, under this snowstorm that wasn’t quieting down a single bit. Why Dutch had to send ya ‘long with me... Somethin’ I can’t fuckin’ explain !

Hunting meant you had to be quiet, discrete, and, in the eyes of Morgan at least, Micah wasn’t meeting these requirements. Pessimistic as he usually was, Morgan grumbled, throwing another quite aggressive glance at Micah :

      She set the wooden tray down with a glass of water, then a softer smile. “Oh, I know. If you don’t mind my saying - you were looking a little... pale when you sat down.” It wasn’t a feast, but it saved wasting good beef on the birds. “-so consider it on the house. I’m Daisy, nice to meet you, sir.” The woman offers a hand, after setting the cutlery down. 

      “Are you new to the area? I haven’t seen you in here before.”

clownvillage asked : ❛❛ You look like you need a hug. Come here. ❜❜ -thespiteful (he's saying it in the mist sarcastic way possible trust me)

soft caring sentence compilation / @thespiteful​ -- always accepting

      Sean cringed when he heard that tone of his, that sarcastic tone. That laugh. He was used to sarcasm, sometimes the Irishman used it himself -- but with Micah, it didn’t make him laugh. It sent shivers down his spine in a bad way.

      He turned around, his rifle leaning against his shoulder. he was just walking out to do guard duty when Micah said that to him. A few days back, Hosea found Sean sleeping and gave him a good kick. It’s been on his mind for a couple of days.