Morning? Oh. No. That is not something I am happy with for once. Where I currently am is unbearably the right temperature and temptingly warm. Is this heaven?
"Please tell me it's not morning yet..." the blond beside me mumbles.
Not expecting his presence, I realize where I finally am, and practically throw myself onto my feet and out of Mikaela's bed. I grab my chest in an attempt to calm my rapidly beating heart. I finally sigh, looking back to see the calmness of the blond's sleeping face. Whatever he did yesterday, he must've been exhausted to slip into sleep so easily. Deciding to check the time for him, I reply, "It's actually noon," and begin to walk out of his room.
"Shit," he curses under his breath as he rises to his feet after "That late?"
"That's a foul mouth for a god," I tease.
"Exactly," he replies a bit cocky and arrogant. "At least I'm allowed to."
"Fuck you, too, Casanova," I shout back as I turn the corner and walk down the hall, allowing him privacy to change, a smirk across my face. No doubt he's confused about my language. He's not like Surumi, so I have nothing to fear. Besides, if he doesn't want me talking like that, then he'll tell me that himself. It's not like I curse often anyway.
I'm dressed before he is, but in all honesty, his clothes look better on him than on me for a reason. Today, when we go out into the city again, we'll probably get new clothes for the both of us. Mikaela may only dress like a human, but he doesn't have very many clothes. Especially for two of us. And me? I dressed formerly, like always considering I've lived before these modern ages of jeans and t-shirts. Key word: dressed. Koba and my fight really did a number on both of us including our clothes.
...
"What the hell is this!"
Mikaela sighs. "It's called the sleeves of the modern ages, Yu. Get used to it."
My ears flatten with distaste of the "long sleeved" shirt tightly around my arms. "I hate the modern ages," I mutter under my breath, inspected the rest of my new outfit Mikaela already purchased, knowing full well it'd fit me considering his clothes are un-noticeably a little big on me. We both got a few pairs of clothes for ourselves, me not knowing where the hell he got money; him not answering me when I ask.
"Which is why I said to get used to it," he replies with a teasing smile and a slight lift of his brows as he throws me another shirt. "Black looks better on you," he notes allowed, ushering for me to change the shirt again. This is the fourth time.
"Unlike you." I take the white shirt off and turn it from being inside out, handing it to Mikaela as I slip the black shirt on.
"Excuse me. I look fabulous in anything," he jokes, pointing to himself with a triumphant look.
"Maybe," I play along, patting his head and following him out the bathroom we borrowed of a small restaurant. "But don't over-flatter yourself. White looks better on you, Casanova."
Mikaela only smiles at my comment. Or maybe the women at the bar on the other side looking at him as he waves goodbye to the bartender, another woman, whom he previously explained to know from a while ago. It's surprising how small this city is considering he's run into four- sorry, five friends of his now.
One of them is from America. To say the least, Americans scare me.
Two from here but the West side of the city who came together to the East, where we are. They were way too loud and rambunctious for me; excited about everything and wouldn't. Stop. Talking.
YOU ARE READING
You Always Build It Better the Second Time Around
Fanfiction*(Now on Archive of Our Own/AO3)* Mikaela, a lower god loved by both gods and humans alike, has been working on his own granting wishes of all kinds and has always refused gifts from the higher gods. That is, until one day, he reluctantly (might he...
