Stubborn and the Mutt

twelve | his comfort

"For one day! Just for one school day, can you just leave me alone? For one day. That's literally all I ask for." I groan, making it around the corner and gently pushing past people, knowing very well he is following me. The day hasn't even started and already, he is on my case.

I'm literally starting to get a mental life sized dent of him and it's frustrating me. I haven't even mentally recovered from the nonsense he spewed from the day before yesterday, and now he is here to dish out more. I can't. Not today. I need a breather. I need to process my own thoughts before handling this nineteen... twenty-one-year old boy.

"I can't do that, mate."

I stop in my tracks before turning to him with a glare, Gucci for eye bags and marshmallow cheeks after my crying marathon in the early hours of the morning. I catch him in the act, running his hands through his hair. His eyes wander around the sea of students moving in whichever direction, and I hold my crochet bag against my chest. Maybe it takes him a moment to realise we've both stopped and I'm glaring at him. But even before he does, his eyes mindlessly dart from place to place, face nonchalant and he doesn't even blink right up until he looks down at me. I'm at my fullest height, being under his shoulder. His eyebrow raises as his pupils literally dilate when they land on my face.

"Micah. This is getting out of hand, honestly. I'm actually very tired, mentally. I don't want to have to go back and forth with you every day or every other day about the same thing. I can't do it. I am being so honest with you. I'm not even being difficult." I sigh softly, eyes dropping from his intense blue gaze to his faded purple long sleeve. "I just need some space today. That's all I'm asking for."

Micah squints his eyes at me for a moment as I deliver my unprepared speech. His eyes scan my body as though trying to locate the reason for my feeble state. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, I'm just tired. Did you hear what I asked?" He doesn't respond; his eyes only lift back to my very own and then blinks again. He isn't believing me but I am hoping he doesn't push more. "Can I have space today?"

"I need to make sure you're okay—"

"I said I'm fine, Micah. I just need space otherwise I won't be fine. That's all I'm asking for. Bother me tomorrow." I turn and start to walk away. I don't even make it a step and a half before he grabs hold of my forearm and turns me back to face him. I can't... I don't look at him. The stupid thoughts come flooding back. "Micah—"

"Tell me what's wrong."

I take the moment to frown, feeling the stinging sensations behind my eyes. He takes that as whatever he wants; one moment, we're standing front to front with my head down and him holding my arm. The next, he has my hand gently placed under my chin, tilting my head up to him. I don't look in his eyes still, but my eyes linger around his neck and chin. Clean shave, that's probably why I still think he's a child. He almost has a baby face.

"Gertrude?" His voice is softer now, almost cautious, but very much present. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired." I chuckle, this time looking into his eyes. "I just need space."

He is intensely looking at me, eyes darting from one eye to the other as he tries coming up with his own answers to fill his curiosity. "I can't do that. You're my... Because we are..." Can't even believe he is hesitant to say the word now. "I can feel it. I can sense it. When there's something wrong, I can sense it. You can't lie to me about that."

I lick my lips a bit. "Look, do you see my friend with me? She knows to leave me alone. She isn't here because she knows I need space. I need space, Micah." I pull my arm out of his hold before taking a step back, allowing his hand to top from my chin. "You can bother me tomorrow."