Adieu

The Morning After (Michayla)

It'll pass.

This can't be a dream.

You're a terrible liar.

The morning light that crept into Michayla's room and bathed her in its warmth was what originally roused her from her sleep. What inspired her to fully pull herself from the dreamy fog was what sat across from her. She could feel her eyebrows crease as she took a moment to process everything she could remember from the night before in relation to the stranger sitting in her armchair. Mickey could vividly recall seeing him phase through the very same chair, his form wavering ever slightly like ripples in the water. Yet when he had helped her to bed, he had felt as whole and warm as anyone else. None of that, however, explained the overwhelming sense of deja vu or the familiarity and comfort he appeared to feel with her and her home. Though she was still left with more questions than answers, Michayla decided to take comfort in having at least one affirmation.

"So you are real," she whispered softly, voice still heavy with sleep.

Pulling herself up into a sitting position and running a hand through her rough and matted hair, she grimaced at the feel of it between her fingers. Before she did anything else, she'd need to take a shower. Turning to hang her legs over the opposing side of the bed, Michayla simply raised a hand in response to whatever comment the stranger may or may not have been saving, and stated matter of factly, "I'll need a bit to freshen up and mentally prepare myself for whatever conversation I have coming." Standing from the bed then, hesitating for a small moment to be sure her legs were in better working order, Mickey straightened her back then and made her rounds throughout the room collecting what bits of clothing she'd need once she had finished in the bathroom. Going to toss her clothes over her sheets as she naturally did, Michayla opted out of that and decided it would be better if she dressed in the bathroom.

Pausing at the bedroom door, she pondered for a moment on rather or not she should say anything else before leaving the room. Sure, he was some enigmatic being that could phase through furniture and spoke like he had known her for years, but it still felt rude to just walk out of the room without saying something. Placing the tip of her thumb between her cracked lips and biting gently down on the nail, a nervous tick she reminded herself she needed to drop, she turned her chin in her general direction and offered him a small smile. "I guess you can just make yourself comfortable? I won't be too long."
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It seemed a shower was just what she needed. Now dried, dressed, and finishing the last bit of the daily, light makeup she still bothered to put on, Michayla stood back and appraised herself in the mirror. It was as if she were a totally different person. Funny what a good sleep and hot shower could do for a person. The lip scrub and concealer did their parts as well, of course. Inhaling deeply, the young woman did a quick about-face as she went to turn towards her kitchen, having to remind herself that she had a guest, uninvited or not, awaiting her in conjoining room.

Popping her head past the door frame, Michayla asked quickly, "Do you, or can you, drink tea?"