Hearing that he was finally willing to make his move, Charlotte and Yelena both leaned in, eyes wide and glittering with anticipation, watching Mika closely, as if waiting for a magician to pull his next impossible trick.
Especially Yelena, she was more curious than anyone else. Because, even though she never ever said it out loud, it was always Mika who had cheered her up the most, without fail.
No matter what it was, no matter how silly the moment or how heavy her mood, he somehow always knew exactly what she needed.
Just like Charlotte had said.
There were days when a storm brewed in her heart, and no one could calm her—no one except him.
Like one time, he pulled his socks over his hands and put on a sock puppet show so deranged it felt like a fever dream. No plot, voices changing mid-sentence, and one puppet was literally him shrieking into a slipper.
