second chances // l.h

two

Technically, niether Micah or I had to work. The Smaldones were so freaking rich we could just keep buying groceries with Micha's credit card and fuck everynight.

That's what the first week in L. A, consisted of.

Monday morning of the second week, after our usual morning intercourse, Micah asked me if I wanted to go to the beach.

There was nothing else to do so I agreed. We made up a picnic basket filled with drinks and chips and with all our beach going stuff, we headed out.

After lathering up in sunscreen and sunbathing for a half an hour or so, Micah grabbed my hand and tugged me up. "C'mon darling," he laughed in a fake british accent. "The waves await."

He runs, tugging me away with the sheer power of his arm. Micah trips, falling into the waves and causing me to fall onto my knees, the fine grains of sands piercing my skin.

I squeal, my hands holding me up on either side of him. He's sitting up, trying to keep his head from touching the water.

I lean down, overcome in giggles, before pressing my lips to his. Micah, raising his hands to my face, no longer has his balance and falls down, his back in the soft waves hitting the shore.

He sits up, laughing as he makes sure he won't fall no more. He pulls me in between his legs and we sit like that, his arms around my waist and my head on his chest, watching young children run back and forth.

"Do you want one?" he asks. "Hmm?" I ask turning my head to look up at him. "A kid? Or two?" Micah asks. I mull over the question, before avoiding the question in my answer completely. "I'm only eighteen."

I feel him nod before leaning his chin on my head. "And I only twenty one. I guess we aren't ready yet, huh?"

I bite my lip. It was absurd he was thinking all of this out right now. Only a year ago we were both in ICU and only six months ago in the psych ward. "Not yet," I whisper, messing with our fingers. "I would says so."

I turn to face the newcomer who had so ruidly interupted a conversation he wasn't even in anyways. I suddnely broke into a grin and threw my arms around the not-so-stranger's neck. "Sam!"

He laughed, his arms winding to tug me from Micah's lap. He pulled me into his own and I didn't let go. It felt so good to see my best friend. I smiled before finally pulling away. "I'm so glad you're here." I turn to Micha, who had a huge grin on his face. "Did you know he was coming?"

Micah shrugged, that smirk still on his face. "I can't lie." I was a mess, giggling at the two things making me extremely overjoyed right now.

"Let's go in for a dip!" Samuel says, already taking off his shirt. "I mean why not? You both are already sitting in the water."

We laugh, standing with the help of Sam.

...

The three of us enter the house around dusk, wet and sticky with salt and sand. Laughter rings throughout the otherwise empty house.

There were a couple bags sitting at the foot of the stairs. Seems like Samuel was here earlier. He catches my gaze and explains himself, "Micah gave me a key but I didn't tell me where my room was."

We laughed again, heading for the kitchen in search of food. "Can you cook something for me? Pleaseeeee?" I whined lightly at Samuel. He was an amazing cook from what I could remember.

He turned around from the pantry, a cookie in his mouth. "I am a guest in this house and you've asked me to cook? I am disgusted." His fake and proper accent make me laugh again, as I settle into the bar stool.