Micah stayed in the room, phone resting loosely in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen without scrolling. The glow cut through the semi-dim room, yet Micah's focus was elsewhere. His thoughts kept circling, reviewing his plan.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Clyde stepped inside and said, "She said she'll be here to help you."
Micah barely reacted. "Alright," he mumbled absentmindedly, gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
Clyde glanced at him for a second, then as if he was electrified, he averted his eyes quickly. Micah was sitting sideways on a chair, one knee pulled up against his chest. The oversized shirt had ridden up without him noticing, bunching around his hip and revealing far too much pale leg and other things that absolutely should have remained hidden. His posture was careless, unguarded, completely unaware of the effect he was having.
