Needing is One Thing

Chapter 3. They say I'm a walking dreamer, baby

James took more than a little of his frustration out on his younger brother Sam as they sparred in the yard. It was too early and he hadn't slept much. His eyes kept straying to the gazebo, his thoughts to the night before. He even managed some really good hits, Sam nodding his approval, though he gave James more than one questioning look at how hard he was hitting.

James wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Damien was holding back and the others were following his lead, trusting him since their brother was obviously in a brooding mood. At first they thought it was the face-off with Malix at the front door, but afterward, James had paced back and forth through the house for almost an hour, passing Mika's door more than any other. They had all been seriously worried when Malix took a swipe at her, though Mika had handled herself well by ducking out of the way.

James heard a chuckle and saw Damien's eyes look up towards Mika's bedroom window. He followed his youngest brother's gaze. Mika was stretching, obviously thinking that the reflection on the windows kept her from view or not noticing they were down here. Sam's fist connected with his jaw, sending his glasses flying and James sprawling.

"Too slow, big bro!" Sam taunted him, not noticing Mika. He offered James a hand up out of the grass and smirked. "You shouldn't let yourself get so distracted."

Damien handed back his glasses, a look of apology on his face. James saw how strongly he was blushing. He didn't blame his youngest brother. That was one of the nicest views he had seen since coming to the human world. It was worth the pain in his jaw.

"Keep your mind in the game, James," Erik chuckled. He cocked a brow and let his eyes slide up to Mika's window as well. "You'll have to stay focused if you want to win."

"Yeah," Matthew laughed, beaming.

James flushed a little and straightened his sweater, forcing his possessive side down before settling back into his stance. Mika wasn't his. Yet.

His next few hits connected and he managed to push Sam back a little, which was an achievement in and of itself, especially in hand to hand combat with his brute-like brother.

*

The sky was a brilliant blue as Mika found herself wandering into the cemetery towards her grandfather's grave. She sipped her iced mocha latte. With a childish grin, she popped off the dome top and licked out a bit of the whipped cream, catching some of it on her nose.

Mmmmm, K makes the best coffee, with real whipped cream. It was sweet and buttery on her tongue.

"Oh!" Mika's head shot up at the surprised, masculine voice. Andrew quickly stood from where he had been sitting in the grass beside Harold Anderson's tombstone, dusting himself off. She hadn't expected to meet him here. Her stomach did a little flip as she took in the slightly unbuttoned collared shirt, the light summer blazer, khakis, and loafers. He dressed well though it was a little wrinkled. Still, it looked good on him. Really good.

"Sorry, I-"

"No, No! I'm sorry!" Mika waved a hand in apology. "I didn't mean to disturb you-"

"I was just...." Both of them quickly stuttered and stopped, staring at each other before breaking into relieved laughter.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?" Andrew chuckled, ducking his head and looking up at her shyly.

"Yeah," Mika answered with a bright smile.

"Oh!" He stood up straight, surprised, staring at her face.

"What?"

"You, You..." He vaguely waved a finger a few inches from her nose.