Mimeomia

21 | lunation

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LUNATION

( — the period of time from one new moon to the next. )

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

          "WE, WE, WE, WE—I HAD NO IDEA LINCOLN SPOKE FRENCH," Kelsey comments, twisting her hair into a side-braid, letting it fall over her left shoulder as her expert fingers twirl strands of her dark mane. Michaela, standing in front of her closet while trying to choose something to wear, lets out a genuine laugh since what seemed like an eternity—it sure felt like it to her.

          "He knows a word or two, but he's not fluent in the slightest," she replies, pulling yet another cashmere sweater out of the closet and carefully setting it over her bed, next to the three other sweaters she had picked moments before. Kelsey wrinkles her nose at her choice of clothing, and, for a split moment, Michaela's cheeks burn with embarrassment, worrying she'll overdress. "That was funny, though. Where have you been hiding all these dad jokes?"

          "I stole them all from my dad. It's nice to know they're still recognizable as such, which means he has taught me really well." Kelsey throws her a triumphant grin, which Michaela can't help but return, even though she doesn't really feel that happy tonight, as it's borderline impossible to be in a bad mood around this girl, like what happens when Jillian is around.

          Nevertheless, it's still a bit strange to have her here, as Michaela can count on one hand the number of times Kelsey has stepped foot inside her apartment, but it's pleasant. She has always been a breath of fresh air, even inside the office, and Michaela is just thankful Kelsey manages to remain cheerful in the middle of all the toxicity they're all constantly drowning in.

          Michaela doesn't know why she's as nervous as she currently is, as this isn't something new and she has seen Lincoln play at that exact bar countless times before—except they were in a relationship back then and whatever they are right now can't possibly count as one.

          They're avoiding each other, as if there was anything to be afraid of, when everything is already so familiar. She knows what he can do, much like he knows how far she can go, but they're still not willing to be around each other and behave like regular people for more than fifteen minutes, which means this night has everything to turn into a disaster if they don't get over themselves.

          This isn't even about her. It's about him and his passion for music, that was there even before he met her, and she doesn't have the right to potentially ruin things for him once again. Even if the break-up was good for him work-wise, Michaela still knows it destroyed him as much as it destroyed her. Though both of them excelled at their jobs, as they were pouring their heart and soul into what they did because they no longer had each other, deep down, they were miserable.

          They weren't healing—past tense. The problem is Michaela has had more than enough of that, now that it has been over two years since that day and she has gone through so many therapy sessions she has no idea why she still attends them, but she wants to move on . . . not necessarily from him. From the break-up, yes, at the very least, but letting Lincoln go doesn't really sound like a plausible choice anymore.

          What else is there for them to talk about, though? His dead grandmother, who might have been Satan himself in disguise, and how her words destroyed whatever faith Michaela still had in their future together?

          "Which skirt and sweater combination should I wear?" Michaela eventually questions, feeling like the room had been silent for too long. It's not like it was bothering her—it was quite the opposite, actually—but Kelsey is known for easily reading into other people's silent periods, reminding Michaela of her father's interns from law school. "Black and gray, pink and gray or black and blue?"