Tora never asked to be a Lunos and he certainly didn't ask for three mates.
***
As the weakest member of his house, Tora has always been a lone wolf. He's never been the smartest, the bravest, or funniest and is bullied until the last day of summer...
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*They/Them/Theirs are Micah's pronouns. Please don't pull a Rowan, and respect them for this. I don't want to see a single comment about it being confusing when this is written in first person from Tora's POV and he's the only person in the room with Micah*
"Micah?"
I call their name as I peek into the art studio where my sweetheart stood completely alone.
After endless hours searching their dorm, the library, and countless corridors, I don't know why it didn't occur to me to just find them here.
My love cradled a palet of colored paints close as they stood at their larger sketchbook and tested colors with a gentle stroke of the brush.
In the cool room made of stone at the edge of Antum, a few easels lay stacked in the corner with two desks positioned behind my lover's back. Beside Micah, some went unused, from a small bed made of wooden pallets to a few fake fruit baskets and strange vases. The dark mustard yellow curtains did nothing to contain the amount of light pouring in and dancing on Micah's lighter skin.
Almost as if it was there just to shine a natural spotlight on my life partner, taking my breath away. The breeze rustling through their soft blonde locks and a focused look kept them from finding me standing beside them. The room smelled of older books, the slightly sweet scent of fresh watercolor paint, and my woodsy Micah.
I sat on the edge of one of the desks close to my love and watched as they tested blues in soft strokes across the paper. They're so gentle that I wish I could be the paper they paint on and feel their gentle touch for hours. Getting closer I can hear a little buzz and notice their little earbuds when they tucked their shoulder-length blonde hair behind their ear. Micah's blue eyes lighter than any ocean on Kailea in this bright light and their button nose scrunched up when they didn't like a certain stroke.
I wonder what Micah could possibly be listening to. What kind of music does one do artsy things to? Cellos and violins? Maybe some acoustics or a boring orchestra of-
"Said little bitch! you can't fuck with me if you wanted to. These expensive, these is red bottoms, These is bloody shoes. Hit the store, I can get 'em both. I don't wanna choose. And I'm quick, cut these bitches off so don't get comfortable,"
When I tell you my mouth dropped, I mean I no longer have a fucking jaw. Simply watching my sweet innocent Micah suddenly start loudly screaming Cardi B is a total experience I was unprepared for.
"If I see you and I don't speak That means I don't fuck with you. I'm a boss, you a worker, bitch. I make bloody moves. Now she says she gon' do what to who? Let's find out and see, Cardi B. You know where I'm at. You know where I be!"
