Theory of Attachment [18+] [mxm]

35. I've Got To Move On And Be Who I Am~

A/N: I JUST DON'T BELONG HERE I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND WE MIGHT FIND A PLACE IN THIS WORLD SOMEDAY BUT AT LEAST FOR NOW..... I GOTTA GO MY OWN WAYYYY~

Micah didn't know what to do with himself when Alistair didn't immediately come back and explain himself. It took two hours for Micah to realize that he really truly had left for work nearly two hours early.

    What the fuck just happened? he thought, and believed the only other person on the planet with an answer was his best friend.

    Micah dressed, grabbed his coat, slipped on his shoes, and made a swift getaway to Kennedy's place.

    Kennedy answered the buzzer after five long presses. Once up, he went for the door handle and found it locked. He nearly ran into the door in his haste to enter. He banged on the door until she answered.

    "Jesus Christ, it's, like—" she started, checking her watch as Micah slipped past her.

    In the threshold, nearly chest-to-chest with her, he pointed at her accusingly. "You've been texting Alistair."

    She blinked. "He told you?"

    "No, I fucking found out," he said.

    "How did you—? We haven't texted in a couple days."

    She shut the door behind him as he went for her liquor cabinet. She shut that door as well.

    "Let me at it!" Micah said, clawing for the gin.

    She shoved him down onto the nearest hot-pink couch and said, "Take a breath, alright?"

    Micah flopped back, dramatic, and covered his face with his hand. When he said nothing beyond a dismissive wave of his hand, Kennedy relaxed.

    "You aren't angry with me?"

    He'd thought about being angry with her, but that felt intentional and disingenuous. "No, I guess not. I'm not even pissed at Alistair. I don't know why."

    In nothing but a silky robe, Kennedy claimed the seat beside him and hooked an arm over the back of the couch. The more time they spent in silence and in Kennedy's urgent, "Take a breath," Micah took several breaths. And had several thoughts.

    He should have expected this after the Halloween Roleplay Fiasco. He just hadn't anticipated the length of time she'd spent texting Alistair, or vice versa.

    "Are you... angry with Alistair?" she asked.

    "No," he admitted, sighing. Elbow on the armrest, he sunk his head into his hand. "This is so fucked. I can't even—Clearly, this means I don't even want a relationship where a third party isn't mediating everything."

    "But you... do want a relationship. With Alistair."

    "No. I don't know? This isn't a yes," he said, sternly, when Kennedy opened her lips with a smile.

    She pouted at him.

    He glared at her from between his fingers. "You know me too well."

    She beamed again. "I do, don't I? And it worked. You totally fell for him."

    "Yeah, and he's probably gonna flee the country now. He caught me reading your texts and looked like I'd shot him," Micah said.

    Kennedy winced. "Yeah, he does that."

    They fell into defeated silence, grief weighing on Micah. His insides were churning, twisting, and filled with static.

    And then it clicked.