"Wow, he went all out." I mumble, pouting as I carry the basket towards the large picnic blanket contrasting the rather perfect green grass surrounding us. I gently slip off my shoes so my socks are revealed, then step towards the middle of the blanket, before placing the basket down.
He brought big pillows that pretty much take up so much space. Smaller blankets, of which I'm assuming is for if we get cold, and then has a whole glass of what seems like lemon juice with pink plastic cups laying besides it. Then, he has random flowers placed about, I think to give it a more romantic effect.
I grin. It's cute.
After getting down to my knees, I open the basket and fish out the different items. I convinced him I'd bring the snacks and stuff. I did. Sandwiches, sliced and diced fruits with some yogurt. Chocolates and marshmallows. And simple chips. Nothing too much, really, considering the intention was to be simple.
I set them all on display before discarding the basket at the end. Then, I sit down properly, taking the closest blanket and cover my legs. I remove my sling bag and then fish out my phone, right before snapping pictures of this.
"Are those marshmallows?" I turn my head when I hear him, Micah, speak up as he approaches me. He's carrying an opened laptop with a bowl.
I nod, glancing at the packet. "Coconut covered."
"I don't like marshmallows." I gasp, watching as he lowers himself before placing the laptop in the middle, followed by the popcorn. "Something about it doesn't sit well with me quite literally."
"Marshmallows are really nice. That means you've never roasted them or like, had them between biscuits."
"Never." He grins, scooting closer to me. I actually tense up slightly, when he sits right besides me with little to no space between us. Then, contrasting my legs stretched out, he folds his.
He looks... nice. Really nice. A beach shirt, almost, and basic khaki shorts. Pink socks which clashes with his entire outfit but he seems overly comfortable to even care. His hair, to my surprise, is pushed back with this comb-like hair band. His face is bare, revealed to the world. His blue eyes match the sky (when the sky is clear and all, but it's about 4:30pm right now so the sky is more or less starting to have a more orange shading), and his eyebrows are so nicely shaped, I'm a bit jealous.
Don't get me started on his lashes. Don't.
He looks at me. "What do you feel like watching?"
"Anything. I'm not too picky."
"The setting is giving... romance..." I cringe at it as he laughs. "It's giving... chick lit. How about something along those lines. Three-sixty-five? Should we watch that?"
"That porno? Absolutely not, Micah."
He chuckles a bit, leaning over to grab his laptop. "Okay, there's a list of things we can watch. We can even watch a series or something. Or maybe even mystery or something. Doesn't have to be romantic."
"How about Twili—"
"Absolutely not." He sends a glare my way. "Anything but that."
After a few more minutes of debating, we settle for literally the first thing we see. I didn't get the name but basically... it's a romance movie, to my dismay. Micah seems to genuinely love romance, cliches films, which I think is really why we're watching one at this point.
We've long gulped our sandwiches and packets of chip. The container of fruits is almost empty, along with the lemonade glass. Marshmallows are still sealed. The popcorn is the next victim, and we almost greedily grab handfuls of it and stuff our faces. Like animals.
Speaking of animals.
"Micah..." I clear my throat, remembering that a certain conversation topic is what we have to reach at some point of this date. I clear my throat, taking a sip of my lemonade before dusting my hand on my dress.
The boy turns his head to look at me.
"If you don't mind, I wanted us to talk about something."
He hums, reaches over to pause the film before he turns to me. Matter of fact, he shifts his body so he is facing me properly. "What is it?"
I clear my throat again. "So, let's say hypothetically, I find out that you're more than just... a wolf."
Immediately, he raises an eyebrow at me before chuckling. "This isn't hypothetical. I knew Matt and his big mouth couldn't keep it in for as long as this. He told you, didn't he?"
"What? Of course not." I click my tongue, forcing a light laughter out of me as I wave my hand as though to disregard his ridiculousness which isn't ridiculous at all. "I mean, what even is Matt? Like, the mat on the ground—"
"You don't need to pretend, mate. Actually, if you avoid lying to me, it would do us both a favour." His eyes squint a bit as his lips press to a slight frown. "Matthew told you."
Slowly, my lips form a pout and I reach over to my lemonade, taking a slow sip of it. I peek at him through my lashes, blinking repeatedly when I see he is very much still watching me. I gulp the content before clearing my throat.
"Okay, so maybe Matthew said something. I asked him anyway, so I guess he isn't to blame. My point is, I found out that you're more than what you say you are."
"What am I?"
"An... Alpha." I mutter. "You're an Alpha, aren't you?"
He sighs softly, lifting his hand to scratch his forehead a bit. "Does it matter?"
My mind instantly tells me to lose it, go ballistic and tell him that he is indeed ridiculous to think it doesn't, especially with how long he's been going on and not saying a thing. Did he think I wouldn't find out?
I gulp my instincts, clearing my throat again. "Ahm... did you not think that that would be something I should know considering... you know, the whole idea of being mates?"
"I don't think it's that much of a big deal. Besides, I just started gaining your trust and your willingness to be open to this. I didn't want to load you more with the fact that I may or may not be the future Alpha outside of my consent."
"Micah, maybe you should have told me earlier. That you're a wolf and Alpha. Get it over and done with. Hearing it from your friend is crazy. I mean, he has his own ambitions alongside the idea of you being Alpha. He even said you're not doing things how it's traditionally done. I don't exactly know what that means, but Andrea explained a bit so I guess maybe I kind of understand? My point is, Micah, that you being an Alpha means what for me? I'm Luna? Luna of a pack? Doesn't that sound like something I should know ahead of time?"
His lips part for him to say something, but rather, a huff escapes his lips and he squeezes his eyes shut for a good moment. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"I don't— look. I'm not looking for an apology. I'm trying not to react how I want to. I'm trying to be patient and understanding. That means you have to be open with stuff like this. I'm closer to the age where having a heart attack is possible."
Micah laughs lightly, eyes twinkling at my words. I can't even help but smile brightly at how pretty he looks.
"Yeah, I get you."
"Okay. So do you maybe want to tell me how you decided not to tell me something as major as you being an Alpha? And how this works for me? What it means for me."
"I think if many people had the role of being a future Alpha, believe me when I say they'd have boasted and basked in the idea. For me, it's different. It's not what I wanted. It was never something I wanted but because of life being a pain in the ass, along with my father being the greatest father the world could ask for, turns out, I have to be an Alpha or things would just get complicated."
I shift a bit, now crossing my legs and ensuring the blanket covers the good-goods.
He sighs softly. "Okay, so I should give you the context. It's a lot, though."
"We have time."
He smiles, nods, then makes himself extra comfortable. "So... basically, I should start from the beginning. I had a brother. Twin brother, actually. I'm the youngest between the both of us. His name was Malacai. We looked so different." He chuckles at the thought. "Looked exactly like my mother, except a male version. Brown eyes, the light hair. He even acted a lot like her. Tender, gentle. Patient. Understanding. All the qualities of a good Alpha. Stern, but the good kind of stern. The pack loved him. He was what they needed, and it was quite different considering when my father was Alpha— he still is, but I mean back then, he was feared. Borderline feared as in they were scared of him, not out of respect but of actual fear. My father can act irrational."
"So your brother was the opposite."
"Exactly. A breath of fresh air. Since he was young. So, of course when the pack understood that he'd be the new future alpha, you can imagine the wave of satisfaction in the pack. It made sense and everyone impatiently waited for the day to happen. Me? Well, I could care less. I knew I was never going to be an alpha, and I swear, I was fine with that. I was proud of my brother. Sure at times we'd never get along, argued about stupid things and my father would take my side and my mother could take Malacai's side. But I could care less about the role of being an alpha. When he went into training, I was busy fooling around with the other kids. Didn't matter because when we got along, we got along so well."
I nod slowly, scooting closer a bit. "So... what happened to him? You're busy using passed tense, so... what happened?"
Micah sighed heavily, rubbing his fingers against his chin. "Remember that disease I told you about? Jis'burentse. That deadly illness." He waits for me to nod as confirmation that I remember. "Well, yeah. He contracted that. No one really knew when or how. The signs were there but we never paid attention to it, only because he used to play it off like it was nothing. Headaches. Body pains. Laziness. Physical exhaustion. He played it off easily, so we never took it seriously. But it got worse. Week after week, it got worse. He... wow."
I frown and my heart aches as I watch how he gently removes the comb hair band thing, and let's his hair fall over his face so easily. I scoot closer, hoping I could provide him comfort.
Maybe he's never really spoken about this?
I place my hand on his knee, to which he immediately takes hold of and holds it to his lips. He gently placed pecks on each knuckle, which confuses me because it's me who should be providing him comfort yet he's affectionate like he's trying to comfort me.
I relate. He lost his brother. I lost my sister. We have a scary thing in common. I cared more about what my role as Luna would he, but this took another turn.
"Maybe we can change the topic?"
"I don't mind talking about it." He sighs softly. "He then stopped coming out of his room. His training would cut short. He would stop eating much, bathing much. He lost a lot of weight. Didn't have an appetite but you can imagine the hunger pangs he felt. He was really going through it. That's when we decided we'd get a doctor in to see what the problem is. She then told us, after a few days of doing tests, that he had it. That he's had it for long and he's far into it. There's no cure, they weren't even sure how to help him. He's a wolf, wolves heal fast naturally, but this killed his blood cells quicker than his body could heal. You can't even imagine how he looked when he shifted."
I have to scoot closer when I hear his voice crack a bit.
"It got to a point where he physically couldn't shift into his wolf. It was that bad. So, my dad announced that Malacai could no longer be the future Alpha because he was soon to die. He said it as plain as day without remorse. He was disappointed, I think we all were, but he didn't care. My father is a bastard, it's as simple as that. He didn't care much about the fact that his son was dying, literally. He cared... still cares, about the role of the Alpha. Then he announced I'd be the future Alpha."
Micah laughs at it, but nothing about it is amusing. He even squeezes my hand, and perhaps it's subconscious but I roll my lips onto my mouth at the slight discomfort.
"He didn't discuss it with me. With my brother. With his fu— with his wife. My mother. He just decided on the spot that the role was important. It caused so much chaos. Malacai grew angry. Bitter. His love for me turned into hatred. He felt I was the one who wanted his role. His title. What he was destined to be. How stupid could he even be to think that? Me? Have the role as an alpha of a pack? Why would I care about something as draining, as serious, as confusing and just... why would I care about that? I never cared about it. But he blamed me. Cursed me. Thought Moon Goddess Luna wanted me to be alpha but he came out first so traditionally, he was to be alpha, so he felt he was being punished for that."
I shake my head at it. It how ridiculous it sounds. How unfair it sounds. His father... his brother. Where was his mother? What was she doing? Did she try resolving this?
"He died." Micah mutters. "The night of some ceremony we were having. It settled it. I'd be the future Alpha and there was nothing I could do. My father refused to give his title to his brother so his sons could be alpha. No. He said I should. We went back and forth about it. Hell, we physically fought to get our points across. I didn't want to be alpha, he said I must and I didn't have a choice. I still don't. I lost the fight, of course. I was then forced into training. You're trained your whole life, I was trained in a span of two years. I didn't get to mourn my brother, and a part of me felt bitter about doing so."
"You went to the funeral though, right?"
"Of course. I did. I didn't have a choice, even if I wanted to. I had to represent." He scoffs, running his unoccupied hand through his long dark locks. "It's why I started university late. Two years late, actually. Used the time to complete my training. Everyday I hoped that Luna would take this burden from me. Find somebody else to be alpha. Convince my father to let his nephews have the role. Nothing. It's like she turned her back to me. Fast forward, here we are." He smiles, though it hardly holds depth of sincerity. "Soon to be alpha with Matthew insisting I do things the right way so he could be my Second in Command. A dream come true, he said it would be."
"I mean, I don't know the depth and weight of being an Alpha considering I'm a mere human being, but... why don't you want to be Alpha? In all honesty."
"Being alpha means being assertive. Taking initiative. Being the head of the pack. Leading the pack. One mistake and it costs so much. It means traveling a lot. Meeting with other packs, making treaties and creating peace. It means dealing with rogues. Making examples of those who disobey or threaten the pack, whether inside or out of the pack. It means sacrifice. Great sacrifice." He sighs, lifting his blue eyes at me. They seem a lot darker now once the sun as long started setting and it's getting darker outside. He blinks. "It means putting your life on the line, knowing you could die any day."
"Are you scared of death?"
"No... I'm scared of dying and leaving my mate alone in this shi— ah... crap world."
I lick my lips, nodding slowly. I can feel the tension, the weight of something I don't fully understand. I shake my head, shoulders slouching a bit. "I'm sorry about your brother. I can't imagine something as heavy as that causing a strain in my relationship with my family members. And I'm sorry about your loss."
He smiles, waving his hand. "It's life. Nothing to be sorry for. You get over or under it. I'm over it."
I scoot closer, now practically besides him with no space between us. My available hand lifts up to his face, and with hesitation, I lay my hand against the side of his face, fingers gently moving his hair strands. "There's nothing wrong with mourning for your loss. It's good to mourn. To feel all of those emotions. Pushing it away does nothing for you."
"I've got too much to deal with, compared to just letting my emotions take over me."
My eyes lower to his lips for a moment. "Emotions gives us our humanity. We can't always push them away."
"Sure you can. Just focus on other things."
I want to say something to contrast what he's saying. I disagree. I mean, maybe I've basked in my own emotions for too long, and I'm still healing, but if he keeps pushing his own feelings and emotions away, one day, he'll just burst.
It could be at a time where everything is on the line.
I hum a bit, lowering my head and dropping my hand, then I glance at our hands. He's intertwined our fingers and his thumb lightly rubs against my thumb's knuckle. "You'll only hurt more. That can kill a person."
To my surprise, his unoccupied hand touches the side of my own face. I can feel the tingles deep into my cheek. Then, his index and thumb moves to my chin before he lightly tilts my head up. When I do look up, I suck in air in surprise at how close our faces are now. Just an inch closer and our noses will touch.
His blue eyes — man, these eyes of his, that happen to be embraced by his dark, long butterfly lashes — dart from the left eye to the right, then down to my lips before looking back at the left eye.
"I've been through a lot to possibly hurt some more." He mutters. "I'll surely die, though, if something happens to you."
Well. That could send a person down a rollercoaster of body heat and flushed cheeks. I mean, the butterflies in the gut of my stomach speak for themselves, but we agree that I'm beyond flattered and geeked that he could say something like that.
I have nothing to say as a response.
Not that he needs one, since he continues by saying; "That's why I'll drag it out, me not going through it traditionally so I don't have to be the alpha of this pack. Maybe if my father dies, then I'll consider it. But for now, I refuse to go through with it."
"But your pack—"
"They'll be fine so long my father lives."
And I'm the stubborn one?
Now, his thumb rubs against my bottom lip, then presses right in the middle of the flesh so my lips part. That simply sends shivers down my arms. His eyes watch every single movement.
"I could kiss you now, not? We've been on our date."
"D-didn't I say dates? Plural." I mutter, though tempted to do the exact same.
"I care little about that, mate." He mutters right. "I can't wait any longer. Do I have your permission?"
To do much more than kissing, sure.
My eyes squeeze shut when I feel his nose rub right against mine. Then I feel his faint warm breath fan against my very own lips — this is after I nervously lick them due to the tension rising between us. I mean, I don't know we got from speaking about the loss of a loved one to the desires of kissing.
"Mate?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I kiss you?"
Oh, there they go, the butterflies in my stomach.
I nod. That's all I can do since I can't trust my voice. Just before anything happens, I forcefully pull away when I hear his name being called.
Matter of fact, I pull away and turn towards his house, seeing what seems to be a younger girl basically run towards us. I then turn to look at Micah, who groans loudly and quite literally taps his palm against his forehead.
"Micah!"
She literally throws her self against him, which throws him off so they both hit the ground. Her hand hits the bowl of the popcorn so, that goes flying everywhere as she laughs obnoxiously loudly, followed by his grunt.
"Okay, okay, Sarah!" I tilt my head as I practically watch the young girl grab his face forcefully, kissing every inch of his face without the slightest care that I still exist. "Sarah, enough."
The closer I look, the more similar the two become in appearance. Her dark hair, the crystal green eyes yet the shape is very much the same as his. I scrunch my nose as I look at him.
"Do you have a kid?"
"What the fu—"