Threads

12, Woman and Willpower

"What were you doing back there?" He asked, eyes narrowing.

"What do you think?" She said, trying to make herself sound annoyed mind racing as she brought herself time. Suddenly losing her way seemed a far too flimsy excuse.

"How much did you see?" His hand tightened on her shoulder; his message was clear – if she admitted to hearing anything, she wouldn't be let go.

Britta blinked slowly, "I didn't see anything-" She had heard much more than she had seen. "-And honestly, I have enough men asking where I live, it's worse having someone actually berating me for living there." Britta wrinkled her nose, trying to force arrogance into her tone.

He cocked his head to one side.

"I live there." Britta clarified finally. "And if I catch you skulking around my house I'll report you."

"I apologize." He said insincerely, stepping back. He seemed anxious to get away now his business was done.

Britta shrugged "Be careful who you accuse of what. Maybe you should go learn some manners." She said.

He just shrugged, "I have a life, you know." He said, turning to walk away.

Britta shrugged, "And I bet it's spent bossing a whole heap of people around too." She muttered.

He turned around again, "Why would you think that?" He asked coldly.

As usual, Britta had to get the last word in, she rolled her eyes, more at herself then him. "Because you're bossy?" She offered and tried to spin around to walk away.

Forgetting about the dress her strides were too long and she tripped up. Using a curse word no respectable woman should know, she twisted herself around and caught her fall on her elbows, quickly getting up and brushing herself off. She turned to see Micah, hand outstretched but quickly crossed his arms again.

"Guess you didn't need catching." He said, "You're fast, though I don't know why you tripped." He said as an afterthought.

Britta shrugged "You try wearing one of these horrible things and see." She blushed when she realised her mistake. Oops. She'd liked the look of the dress for a while, but trying to actually do things in it was another story.

"Haven't you got used to it by now?" He asked suspiciously.

Britta knew she should probably just leave before it got any worse, instead she shook her head. "If you must know I usually take off the crinolines, I used to cut the skirt half off too but Mother found out and they all got destroyed."

"An interesting fashion choice; surely you didn't go 'round with half your legs showing?"

Britta shrugged. "There aren't many people who care."

Micah shrugged. Britta knew from his analysis of each round of fighting they did it was not in his nature to miss or ignore things. Perhaps he was not as good in social situations. She smiled at him as he left, seeming to think she was not worth the effort it would take to say goodbye. The expression did not come naturally after so long of hiding it away as best she could.

Micah glanced at her curiously as he walked away. Britta held her breath and bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, waiting for him to disappear out of sight. He had to have been talking about the training camp when he had talked about the assessments. And who was his father? She hoped that would explain something, maybe even why he was there. The mission must have been the one that only the best got into. Twirling a piece of hair around her fingers Britta puzzled out their conversations. She wondered if they should leave. Had she given up too much in just that small conversation? She decided they didn't need to really worry about being discovered, unless they were caught swimming. There were still other things on her mind but she tried to wave them off. Especially the ones that involved Micah. He'd whisked out of sight and she sighed in relief, anxious to get back and find her sister.