Page 112 of Severance

“Remember when you said that you felt like you didn’t belong anywhere?”

Mikah nods, settling on his knees in front of me, his face level with mine.

“For a very long time, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere either. Even in my own house. It’s like I was always misunderstood. With you, I don’t feel that way.”

Mikah draws a labored breath through his teeth and reaches for my hair. “I found a whole notebook of unused poems in his room.” He carefully tucks a lose strand behind my ear, his gaze set to my lips. “I know ‘Moonchild’ is your song. And I know every time I sing it, you’ll think of him instead of me. And that’s okay. I want you to. But when you kiss me or hug me…you can’t think of him. You need to think of me.”

Serenity settles inside my chest. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about lately,” I confess. “I couldn’t stop if I tried.”

A smirk touches his lips. “You’re so fucking weird, Cupcake Queen.”

“Will you sing some more for me?” I ask, fisting the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Mikah grabs his guitar and plays song after song until a loud knock jolts us back to reality.

“Your dinner,” he says. His hands freeze and the music stops.

Upset over a sudden intrusion, I hurry to the door and let room service in. I’m not even sure what I ordered. I just picked the first thing that stuck out on the menu without actually checking to see what it was.

Once we’re alone, Mikah sets his guitar aside and walks over to the dinner cart. He peeks under the lid of one of the plates and shoots me a confused look.

“What is it?” I ask, horror filling my stomach.

“You really have to stop trying to impress me, weirdo.”

“What do you mean?” I pull up the lid and glance at the food.

Mikah leans over and whispers in my ear, “Prime rib is expensive.” His Marlboro breath skates across my cheek.

“I’m not trying to impress you.” I cover the plate.

We stare at each other for a few awkward seconds, the air between us hot and tentative, until Mikah breaks the silence. “I thought you were hungry.”

Panic coils my stomach. “Not anymore.” My eyes never leave his.

“Why not?”

“I can’t think straight when you’re around and…” My words turn into shallow breaths. “Looking at you makes me lose my mind too.”

“Is that why you came all the way here? To lose your mind with me?”

“Yes and no.” I take a step back and move to the middle of the room. I need some distance between us so that I don’t mess up everything I want and need to say. “I’m going to see the hummingbird tomorrow.”

Mikah’s quiet. He assesses me slowly and I can’t tell whether this connection we managed to create today is falling apart or strong enough to withstand the storm.

“I need to see a place where he was happy,” I explain. “I need to do this for me. Just like what you’re doing right now is for you. I believe it’s fair we do things for ourselves, because we don’t know what’s going to happen to us tomorrow. We might die.”

“You know I’m not doing this for me.” Mikah shakes his head. Do you think I enjoy being on stage after what happened? Do you have any idea what it’s like to sit there surrounded by the dark and wonder if someone in the crowd has a gun?”

“I do,” I say quietly, walking in his direction.

Mikah looks up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” His voice breaks.

“It’s okay.” I reach up for his face and run my fingertips against his cheekbone. “I said some stuff I didn’t mean either.”

He doesn’t move. His gaze, fiery and dark, returns to me and studies me for a few moments. “I still can’t fucking believe you’re here.”

“I don’t belong where you’re not.”

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