Welcome to the friend-zone Who: Mickey and Zania Where: Mickey's House When: Night, right after this Warnings: None
Mickey left Zania in the kitchen, making half a grunt as he headed towards the bathroom. He needed a good few minutes alone and the shower was probably his best bet for that. He didn’t need one really, but the next half hour, head against the wall as the water pounded down on him until it went cold, somewhat helped. It didn’t solve any problems, just brought him somewhat closer back to center. Of course he was miserable, insides twisting. Wrapping a towel around his waist he stood at the mirror for longer, watching his reflection and trying to sort just what the hell to do with himself.
Zania was content to give Mickey the space he needed and took a seat on the couch as he wandered off to the bathroom. When she heard the shower start, she picked up a book to occupy her time. When the shower was still running half an hour later, she began to get concerned. Most guys didn’t shower for that long. The water shut off and she relaxed a bit, glad to know he hadn’t drowned himself somehow, but then he still didn’t emerge from the bathroom. Ten minutes later, her worry began to voice itself. “Mickey?” she called out. “Are you okay in there?”
Mickey heard her voice, looking over at the still closed door and finding himself completely unsure of what to do. So he didn’t answer and opted instead of scrubbing his hands over his face, going back to hating his reflection.
Rising from her seat, Zania slowly walked towards the bathroom door, stopping just outside of it. If she closed her eyes and listened closely, she could hear him breathing, could hear the sound of his heart, so she knew he was still in there. “Mickey?” she said softly. “Come out and talk to me... or I’ll turn into mist and seep under the door like Dracula did.”
He closed his eyes, knowing she was closer. “You can’t do that,” he said staring at his reflection, the one that Zania no longer had for a moment more before opening the door, still in the towel.
She couldn’t help but look, her eyes straying for only a moment before focusing back on his. “No, I can’t, but don’t tell anyone,” she said. “Put some clothes on and tell me what happened. You’re not this upset about Mannix turning into a vampire, so something else went down.” And even if that was because of his involvement with December, she wanted to be there for him.
“I’m a little pissed at Mannix,” Mickey said, staring at her for a moment before shaking his head and moving past her, not caring how close he got to her. “It’s nothing. More worried about you.” He moved back into his room, looking for underwear and settling on a pair of boxers that he put on before tossing the towel aside.
“I appreciate you worrying about me, but I think I’m okay. At least for now,” she said, following him back towards his room, but staying outside the door, turning away so that he could get dressed. As much as she might like to see more of his body, this wasn’t the time. “Why’re you pissed at him? For turning into a vampire? Or for being interested in December?”
Mickey didn’t bother with more than his underwear, dropping to sit on the bed and rub at his knee. It didn’t hurt too much, it was just an unconscious thing. “Okay? You didn’t seem okay out there.” She’d seemed massively upset and he’d reacted to it, just to get into trouble. “For being Mannix,” he settled on as far as an answer to her question. And for being into December.
The sound of him taking a seat on the bed drew her attention, at which point she decided he wasn’t going to get dressed further. Zania came to join him on the bed, but left some distance between them, sitting cross-legged as she faced him. “I was upset,” she said softly, fingers picking at his bedspread. “I wasn’t ready to tell anyone and suddenly two people I didn’t know knew what’ll probably be the biggest secret I ever have. That’s... not a cool feeling. And then December cut herself and I haven’t figured out how to control my response to blood yet. Also not cool. I know it freaked December out, but there wasn’t anything I could do. I’m glad I got a chance to talk to Mannix though, so I could tell him what I’ve learned so far.” Which wasn’t much, considering, but it was more than he knew upon turning.
Mickey looked at her then reached out, hand instinctively going to that spot along her hairline. This was likely what December had issues with, but he hated seeing Zania like that beating herself up. “I told her not to do that. She doesn’t know how to listen. It’s fine. You didn’t attack her.” He let go of Zania and ran his hands through still damp hair. “I’m sorry I told. I was just...trying to keep her safe.”
That little gesture, becoming familiar to her, made her smile softly, her eyes shutting at the gentle touch of his fingertips. Mickey was such a nice guy, nicer than she was used to, and it made her feel bad for dragging him into her mess. It wasn’t just hers now, though. “I see that now,” she said. “You were worried about what Mannix would do to her.” Though unless someone had introduced blood, Zania wondered if he would have done anything at all. “I probably would have felt obligated to tell him anyways, once I found out he was bitten.” It was one thing to know there were people dying that she hadn’t met, but to have one put in front of her, Zania didn’t think she could let him go on his way without trying to warn him.
He watched her react to his hand, not sure what to make of it. That was what it was supposed to be like wasn’t it? Nice and reassuring that he was doing at least one damn thing right. Which was obviously not the case with December. “If left alone with him? Yeah, I was worried.”
“More worried than when he was only human?” she asked. “Do you worry about what I might do? I’d like to think a bat bite won’t completely change my nature, at least not in just twenty-four hours, but there are things I react to that I can’t seem to help. I didn’t jump at her neck though. Nor did he.” Even if he did grab her hand, but she’d cut it for him. Zania knew from experience how hard it was to resist that first taste.
Mickey ran his hand through his hair again. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t...I don’t know what to make of all of that.” He looked over at her and shrugged. “I don’t know. I know I should be worried about my own safety. I also know that if you hurt her, you know you’ll see a different side of me.” For the last part his voice was grave, serious. he wouldn’t stand for that, no matter what happened from this moment on.
“What makes you think I have any intention of hurting her?” Zania asked, raising a brow. She didn’t like the girl based on what she’d seen, but that wasn’t enough for Zania to go after her. “I think she was the one threatening to dissect me.”
Mickey instantly felt bad about that. Leaning forward he touched her cheek again. “I don’t. I really don’t. And I know she threatened you, and she will follow through with that given the right circumstances, or at least try.” He curled his hand around her cheek more, wanting to lean in more, but managing to keep himself from doing that. “I’m sorry. I’m on edge. Forgive me?”
“I had the feeling,” Zania said, rolling her eyes. December’s threat was real, but that didn’t mean Zania intended to aggravate it. She didn’t want to bite anyone if she could help it, though she didn’t know how long that would last. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about. Instead she found herself leaning in to his touch and giving him a small smile in return. “Of course. You seemed to ignore my hissy fit, so I think we’re even.”
“It was an impressive hissy fit,” he told her, smiling slightly. “But I was willing to overlook it. I’ve seen just as bad.” He didn’t let go of her, thumb running across her cheek. “Now what?” He had a list of options, several of which would have upset December or played into everything she’d yelled at him for and accused him of and getting into that was the kind of idea that might feel good now but would likely wind up with him feeling guilty later. Which meant he wasn’t going to make that decision.
“Thank you,” she smiled. It was good to have friends who could forgive her more wild outbursts. She often calmed down afterwards, but it was the time during that usually ran people off. Mickey had put up with far more than the average person should, especially considering how long they’d really known each other. The times that he ate at the diner didn’t count. “Well... that’s up to you.” She liked the feel of his thumb stroking her cheek, but didn’t think it would go anywhere, not right now. Anything more than this would complicate things and his life seemed to be complicated enough. “Are you tired?”
She had no idea how hard it was to run Mickey off, not even December did. But he wasn’t thinking of that now, considering her question instead. “Exhausted but not really.” He shifted closer again, touching her cheek still. “Are you planning on staying?”
“If you want me to.” She kind of expected him to want his space right now, but she’d keep him company if he allowed her to stay. Zania liked being around people and, more importantly, she liked Mickey. His evening had been more difficult than normal and if he wanted her around, then she wasn’t going anywhere.
That left him torn, unsure of what to say. He probably needed to be alone because of what he’d just gone back and forth with December over, but at the current instance being alone sounded miserable. “It’d be nice.”
She smiled, glad he wanted her to stay for the time being, even if it was just for her presence. “Then I’ll stay,” she said. “I need to move my stuff later on tonight, but I don’t have to do that now.” She just wanted to get it done before the sun rose and she was trapped indoors again.
He moved closer, nodding. “Makes sense. I might even help.” Depending on how he slept. There was a chance he wouldn’t sleep much anyway.
“I’d like that,” she said. There were some things she didn’t think she could move on her own anyways. But right now she was more focused on Mickey and his proximity and the fact that her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest, which it couldn’t be because it didn’t beat. The feeling was still there, a nervousness mixed with desire.
Mickey was stupid. Very stupid. He was going to hate himself for this later, but he couldn’t stop from running his fingers along her jaw. She was here and she looked like she was responding positively and given the argument he’d just been through, something positive wasn’t bad right? “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Just... wondering.” If he was going to kiss her this time. She’d made up her mind and decided she definitely wanted him to do it. It was true that they barely knew each other, but she was sober this time and the feeling wasn’t complicated.
“Wondering what?” Mickey asked since that seemed like an invitation to ask. And he was curious.
“What you’re thinking,” she answered instead. “If maybe, this time...” She gave a little shrug, not wanting to scare him off. After everything they’d gone through this evening, she wasn’t expecting anything.
He watched her for a long moment. “Did you figure out if you wanted to?” he asked instead, feeling like that was something they hadn’t landed on earlier. “I’m not thinking a ton of things. How complicated it would be.”
“You know I’m here cause I want to be, not cause I have to be, right?” Even last night, she could have gone back to Nic’s, and now she had a number of places that she could stay. But she wanted to be with Mickey right now, wanted to make sure he was okay after everything that had happened. “When you decide what you want, you know where to find me,” she smiled. “Let’s rest. And later we can move some of my stuff. You can see my new room.”
“You know it’s going to be complicated right?” he told her, looking at her still. “No matter what I want, it will be.” The woman living just a stone throw away from him made it complicated. “We can rest. Seeing your room would be nice.”
“It’s always going to be complicated for me. I’m pretty sure I drink blood now,” she pointed out with a smile, even though it was hard for her to imagine. Nothing would ever be the same, and, right now, December was the least of her worries, even if she was the top of Mickey’s list. “Right now my room’s just an empty box, but that’ll change. The girl I’m moving in with seems really cool. I think we’ll get along fine.”
He pulled at her arm, moving to lay back against the bed. “Tell me about her,” he said, wanting to listen to her talk about something that wasn’t everything else going on in his mind or how hard it would be to put everything back together now.
“Well, I think she’s about my age, has super blond hair and smiles a lot,” Zania said, curling up against him as he pulled her back against the bed. “She’s a spinner. Meaning, she spins wool into yarn. And then she knits different things out of it. She’s going to try and teach me to knit and I’m going to try and teach her to make pie.”
“Do you have the patience for knitting?” he asked. He’d seen her make the pie and was amazed she managed to get through it, though he was teasing. His hands were back at her hairline, teasing at it slightly.
“I don’t know,” she laughed, turning so her head rested against his chest. The sound of his heart beating was peaceful. “I’d like to try, even though I’ll probably just end up with knots. We moved a few boxes over earlier, since the sun was behind the clouds. And she offered to have a house party until my club gets up and running, which was just plain nice of her to offer, even if I think it would destroy her home.”
“Seems friendly enough,” Mickey said smiling a little. “And you won’t be stuck here anymore.” Which was sad in a way but he tried to keep that out of his voice.
“I’ve never been stuck here,” she told him. “I’m here because I want to be. And because you offered. You really think my cousin wouldn’t let me stay until I found somewhere else to go? And even if he really did kick me out, which he wouldn’t, cause he’s a pushover, my brother would have let me crash on his couch. But you offered...” And staying with Mickey was a much more pleasant option.
“And even after that out there, you decided this was better?” Mickey asked, looking completely skeptical about the whole thing.
“I’m worried about you,” she said, looking up at him. “And you weren’t the one making me feel like some kind of a monster. Plus, you know. I’m dreading telling Nic and Justin, but I know I’ll have to tell them eventually.”
“Worried about me?” he asked, half laughing but it wasn’t a happy noise. “I’m fine.” Mickey was back to tracing the line of her jaw.
“Are you?” she asked, head tilting slightly, giving him a little better access to her neck. Her nails lightly brushed over his chest, doodling absently.
Her fingers on his chest were completely distracting. The kind of distracting where he wasn’t thinking about the fact that she was asking if he was okay, but instead about how he kept her doing that thing with her fingers. “I am.” A complete lie, but it was paired with moving his fingers down her neck.
She wanted to push him because she knew he was lying. He’d been far too upset upon exiting December’s house for everything to be okay. But if he was distracted at the moment, if he didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t want to make him, at least when it came to December. There was something between them, even if they didn’t agree on what it was. “You know I’d still like you if you’re not, right?”
“I highly doubt you’re the kind that likes to fix broken things like I do,” Mickey said shaking his head a little bit. He didn’t believe her. He was pretty sure no one wanted to take on the project that was him.
The question made her quiet for a moment, but not because she needed to reconsider. In her eyes, Mickey was no more broken than anyone else. Some people just did a better job of hiding it than others. “What makes you think you’re the only one that’s broken around here?” she asked, her fingers still moving slowly across his chest.
“Oh I don’t. But I don’t mind dealing with the broken. But I know it’s a hassle for most. So it’s best to keep it out of the way.” He touched her cheek again, soft smile there. “I’m fine Zan.”
“I’m not that easy to get rid of, Mickey,” she said, looking up at him. He might think he was broken, but Zania wasn’t entirely sure he needed fixing. There were times, maybe, that he should lighten up a bit, but she didn’t expect him to change who he was. She didn’t expect that of anyone.
He laughed slightly. “You sound like me,” he said. Stubborn was his middle name. It was why he’d continued on as long as he had. Again, he found himself thinking of taking it to the next step, to kissing her or something more, but he didn’t get any further than the slight bit of pressure as if he could coax her closer.
“Do I?” she grinned, laughing softly, her body pressing a little more firmly against his. It made her even more aware of how little he was wearing. “I’ve been told I’m a little bit stubborn.” Or a lot. Zania was used to getting what she wanted, and when it didn’t happen she made her displeasure known to everyone around her. She wasn’t going to let Mickey push her away just because he thought she should. That was her decision, not his.
“You? Stubborn? Never.” Mickey smiled and let one hand run down her back, too easy not to with her that close. This was easy. And he hated that it wasn’t this easy with December. That she’d shut down on him the way she had.
“You, sir, have spent too much time with me in the last twenty-four hours if you already know that,” she laughed. “Not that I’m complaining.” Though she would have been if she’d known he was thinking about December right then. It was a good thing that mind reading wasn’t one of her newfound skills.
“I was going to say...If you had an issue you can leave,” he teased lightly, trying to force his focus back there, fingers tracing his own set of circles against her lower back. “But I don’t want you to go.”
“No, no,” she smiled, shaking her head, but then responded more softly. “I’m not going anywhere.” It was weird being this close to a guy when she’d always thought Dorian was ‘the one’, but he was gone. He’d been gone for years now. And despite her flirtations with most of the men that came into the diner, Mickey was the first who’d really caught her attention. He didn’t always know what she felt for him, but she knew how he made her feel, and right now shivers were going up her spine. It made her feel fortunate that he couldn’t hear her heartbeat, as she was sure it would be going double-time by now.
Mickey didn’t stop what he was doing, feeling that slight bit of her tremors under his fingers. He was used to sensitive tiny parts, working with them and knowing when they changed, which meant despite the callouses on his fingers, he could tell she was reacting. So he didn’t stop, wanting to coax more out of her. “Good.”
Zania took a deep breath, finding the scent of him even stronger now than it had been last night, even though he’d just showered. She’d always heard that people had their own unique scent, but she was only able to pick up on it now that she was a vampire. “What does Mickey stand for?” she asked, writing his name across his chest.
He looked up at her, surprised at that question. That was one no one asked. They just took Mickey at face value. One person knew it, but she only used it when she was being serious. “Michael, but no one’s ever really called me that beyond my mom when I was in trouble.”
“Michael,” she said, liking the way Mickey sounded better. Michael sounded too serious, though she could see how it could fit him as well. “Do you have a middle name, Michael Donnelly?”
“James,” he told her. “My dad’s name. It’s what happens when you’re the oldest. What about you? Is there another name that Zania goes with?” It had him thinking of how December wasn’t a fan of Zania’s name.
“There is,” she said. “Zania is reminiscent of the red zinnias my mother had growing in the yard when I was born. She used to say my hair was the exact same color as the petals. My middle name is a little more normal-- Alexandra.”
“So it’s always been this color?” he asked, looking at her dreds. “I like Alexandra. That’s pretty.”
“It’s always been red,” she said, looking up at him. “Maybe not this bright. I dye on top of it sometimes. And I didn’t wear it in dreds until it became too big a hassle to maintain. My parents would have hated it.” They weren’t all that fond of the piercings, but let her get away with them because she could take them out. “Thanks. I thought about going by it when I was younger and wanted to fit in. Now I like my first name because it’s different.”
“As would mine. Mine gets long when I forget about it.” Though it usually hung in his eyes. That was just how Mickey preferred to look. “I can’t see you being one to care about fitting in.” Which was the opposite of Mickey. He did fit in.
“I like yours,” she said, smiling as she reached up to brush it out of his eyes. “And I did once. When I say young, I mean elementary school young, when my parents put me in girl scouts and wanted me to be a debutante. Their little southern belle. They continued to push it up till I was in high school, and then it was just a moot point. The more they pushed, the farther in the opposite direction I went. Now I just want to be me.”
“Debutante? We don’t have those in Chicago,” Mickey said shaking his head. “Though you as a little southern belle sounds cute.” He’d done his best to adhere to what his family wanted, being what they needed and not to rock the boat. They’d been through enough without him being a pain in the ass. And his sister did plenty enough for both of them.
“Me as a southern belle is ridiculous,” she snickered. “I liked the corsets, though. And the lacy under-things. It was the big poofy dresses that I could do without.” She still enjoyed the pretty little things that could be worn under her clothes and sought them out whenever the traders brought in new merchandise.
That had Mickey’s attention. “Lacy...” he ventured, curious where she was going with that. Or if he could see it.
“Yeah, like this,” she said, pulling her bra strap out from beneath her tank top. It was black lace and the bottoms matched, something she always tried to do when she could. “Lacy under-things,” she smirked. “You are familiar with them, yes?”
“Familiar, yes.” It had just been a long fucking while. He reached for the strap, fingering it lightly. “This looks nice though. I’m guessing it gets better.”
“It does, yes,” she smirked and, because she couldn’t help but tease him a little, slid her denim shorts lower on her hips so that he could see the lace peek out there as well. “Girls’ gotta feel pretty, even if nobody else knows.”
Mickey had been thinking about the bra, but that little peek of lace at her hips was far more interesting than anything going on in his mind. “Oh...Yeah it does.” He smirked slightly, fingers grazing the hint of lace underwear before she pulled her shorts back where they belonged. “Well if you ever want to let someone know, I’m a good candidate.”
“Are you?” she asked, eyes raising to his as her fingers danced lower on his chest. “See, I like guys that know what they want, and you don’t seem to know... or if you do, you’re afraid to take it.” Which was what it came down to for her. She could tease him all day, but if he didn’t have the balls to make a move, then she was only going to end up frustrated. Zania wanted a guy to chase her and Mickey didn’t seem up for it.
Her fingers drifting lower sent his heartrate up more, breath hitching for an instant. “You sure are sticking around for not being interested.” She was right though. He didn’t know what he wanted. He often knew what he wanted, but right now it wasn’t quite where he was.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” she smirked, liking the way his breath hitched. “I’m stubborn, remember? Maybe I keep hoping you’ll figure it out.” It wasn’t that easy, she knew, but a girl could hope. She was pretty sure his problem was that he was pre-occupied with the girl next door.
“I’m sure I will.” Or he’d give in to what he was feeling and not get clouded over by thoughts of December and the whole vampire thing. That wasn’t helping things either. But with what her hands were doing, that was distracting to the point where he had a feeling she’d wind up wearing him past the point of caring as much as he tended to.
Zania was hoping he could figure it out, rather than just give in to temptation. She liked him, but she didn’t want him pursuing her just because she was a distraction, no matter how tempting that might be. For both of them, really. She could use someone to keep her mind off the mess that her life had become, but she didn’t like the idea of them using each other. “When was the last time you were with someone?” she asked. “I know that’s totally inappropriate, but I’m asking it anyways.”
Mickey made a face at that question, head falling back more to run his hand through his hair. “Years. I don’t even remember when it was. And it wasn’t a thing, it just happened once.” Then she’d left with half their group a few days later and he hadn’t even considered parting ways from December to stay with her.
“So during middle years, when things were bad,” she said, trying not to think back too much on those years herself. For her, they had been the worst.
“Yeah, I guess so.” They had been bad, but he’d been in a reasonable situation at the time and for one shot it had worked out in his favor. If that was considered working out in his favor at least.
“You don’t seem like a one-night-stand kind of guy to me,” she teased lightly, though she was definitely curious because he didn’t. If he was, then he would likely have gone for things with her by now, though she actually preferred he want more than one night. It wasn’t her style either.
“I’m not,” Mickey said shaking his head. “It just worked out that way.” Not that he’d done much in the serious relationships either, but that was because he couldn’t get close to people properly.
Her fingers moved up his chest till they stopped above his heart, her palm just resting there, feeling it beating steadily. “What happened with December tonight?” she asked finally. She’d been wanting to know and not wanting to know, but when it came down to it, this was what was likely on his mind.
That was the question he didn’t want to answer. “We got in a fight,” he said after a long pause. “Worse than usual.” Because they’d fought before, but this time was bad, really bad. “She like, shut down on me, and she’s never done that before.”
Zania chewed on her bottom lip, wishing she could say something that would make it better, but that wasn’t going to work here. “You need to talk to her,” Zania said after a moment. “I mean, not right now, but... maybe tomorrow? Because you don’t want to wait too long and... I know she means a lot to you.” And until Mickey figured out things with December, Zania doubted he’d know what to do about her.
Mickey ran his hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I know I do. I will. I just...she wanted me gone. So I left.” Which was one of the only he had actually done that and not just stuck around out of stubborn spite. He looked back at Zania, frowning slightly. “She does. A whole lot.” Which was what made her here, against his chest, so complicated.
She sighed, wishing that she wasn’t trying to give advice about a girl that Mickey was more interested in than herself. It annoyed her, but she understood that this was a bond formed long before they even knew each other. “Do you know why she wanted you gone?”
“I said something wrong. Or something right. Who knows? I told her it wasn’t fair that she was acting jealous because someone else was playing with the toy she forgot she had and she just shut down.” And Mickey was sure he’d screwed up, but it wasn’t like she’d given him real feedback on that matter.
Listening to the words, Zania wasn’t immediately sure why that might have upset December, other than it being a little too close to the truth. Except Zania didn’t know if it was or not, so she tried to look at it from the point of view of it being wrong. “Do you really think she sees you like that?” she asked. “And if so... why do you like her?”
“I don’t know. I keep getting this sense that she’s jealous and she’s not the type, but if she doesn’t see me that way she’s still acting that way,” Mickey said with a sigh. Why did he like her? That was a hard question to answer. “Because she’s always been there. Because under it all, there’s someone I trust. Someone I feel comfortable being silent with.”
“Maybe she’s never had reason to be jealous,” Zania pointed out. “You did say that there really hasn’t been anyone serious since you’ve known her.” And while Zania didn’t see herself as threatening, maybe December liked having Mickey all to herself. She definitely didn’t know the girl well enough to make that call. “So... you might want to tell her that? Though you might want to be careful there because saying you like someone just because they’ve been there the longest isn’t really endearing. The trust part is important though. And the comfortable being silent with.” Zania didn’t have many of those herself.
“I can’t even begin to think of it like that.” Though it was the same thing that had happened with Mannix. There hadn’t been anyone else really vying for either of their attention. “Tell her something she knows. I don’t think that’s going to work out for me too well.” Especially since she seemed to not believe him. “It’s more than just her being there the longest, it’s that she never left. Even when there were options, she never left.”
There were times when leaving things alone might let them heal, but Zania was reluctant to say that would be the case with Mickey and December. If left alone, they might never talk again, which she didn’t think would be good for Mickey at all, even if December wasn’t on her list of favorite people. “I hate getting into this with you, but... if Mannix hadn’t come into the picture, would you have ever made a move on her? Had you even considered it?”
Mickey was aware of how awkward this was, that he was one article of clothing away from naked, that Zania was so close and that it was the last topic to talk about like this. Still, Zania was asking and he wasn't quite the type to not answer. Not even when the topic made him uncomfortable. "Maybe. I had an idea to. I was just waiting." What he'd was waiting on was where it got complicated.
His words were telling, even if he didn’t know them to be so. From the sound of it, December had never been more than a ‘maybe’. It was the threat of losing her to someone else that made Mickey latch on, even if he’d never taken the step before then. “Waiting on what?” she asked, then found herself smirking. “What kind of a push does Michael James Donnelly need to make a move on a girl?”
The what was where it got sticky. "A chance. A good reason to. You don't, jump into that with the only person who's been in your life full time for five years and not know the outcome." That ran the risk of ruining everything. "An interest. I'm not one for making huge moves but every time it was because that was what she wanted and I was interested."
Well, that said it all, didn’t it? Zania sighed and pat his chest twice before pulling herself back up. “If you ever decide you’re done chasing December, you know where to find me, right?” she said, giving him a little smile as she slid down to the edge of the bed and grabbed her shoes. “I’m gonna go work on moving in to my new place. There’s only so many hours of darkness before the sun rises.”
"Wait, what?" Mickey missed something huge didn't he? In his heads there wasn't a reason for that, the way she just sat up and seemed ready to move on. He sat up more, looking at her confused.
“You said it yourself,” she said, looking up at him as she slipped one one converse, then the other. “All you need is an interest. You’re hard up for December and me being here isn’t going to change that. So fix things with her. Go for the girl you trust that you’ve known for years. If it’s time that draws you to someone, then I’ll never catch up.” Zania stood, looking down at him. He was adorable... and utterly clueless. “I like you, Mickey, but I refuse to be your distraction for what you really want.”
How was he supposed to answer to that. "Except she's not..." And even if December wasn't interested, Mickey was having a hard time letting go of the chance. Leaning forward he caught her hand, watching her closely. "I like you too," he admitted. "It's just really complicated." He didn't want her to think it was her. If he didn't have his twisted history with December he probably would have gone through with kissing her like he should have.
“It doesn’t have to be,” she said with a little twist to her smile. She liked that he’d caught her hand, that he wanted her to stay, even if she wasn’t really sure why. He wanted a different girl in his bed, not her. “You have feelings for her. Figure them out. Do you fantasize about her? Think about her in the shower? Wonder what it would be like to kiss her? I’ve never known a guy who could be into a girl for years and not done that. Ask yourself the hard questions. I don’t mind asking for you, but I don’t want you to look back and feel like I pushed you one direction or another.”
Mickey didn't gave to answer her questions, the blush on his cheeks a dead giveaway in the affirmative. It wasn't an active thing, but when he did, that was where his thoughts fell. "I know I do." There was a pause, where he still had her hand, not meeting her eyes. "I wouldn't think of you as pushing. Promise." He hesitated again, then let go of her. "Sorry."
He was cute when he blushed and it made her smile, even if it was indication that he was definitely into someone else. “Don’t be sorry,” she said softly and leaned down on the bed, one foot still on the floor as she ran her fingers through his hair. “We can’t help what we feel,” she whispered, then leaned down and kissed him, taking the chance that she knew he wouldn’t.
The kiss was massively unfair. As was telling him he couldn't help what he felt when he was pretty sure he should be able to do just that, but that kiss was even more unfair. Because it was impossible not to answer it, to kiss her back, and reach to pull her in closer, just to keep it from ending too soon. She was right, Mickey wanted someone else, that much was blatantly clear to him when it had only been more on the shady side before, but he had also been thinking about kissing Zania for a good part of two days. Kissing was cheating and playing into his train of thought that was screaming about the pretty girl in black lace underwear under her clothes, who wanted him and how that wasn't a bad thing. It completely contradicted the part that was considering going to December's now even if that felt like too soon.
Zania hadn’t expected him to respond as he did, almost positive that he wouldn’t even kiss her back, let alone pull her closer. She found herself deepening the kiss before pulling away, wishing that she could just give in and be what he needed, even if not what he wanted, but she was too stubborn to let herself do so. She pulled back, biting her lip as she looked into his eyes, then forced herself to crawl backwards. “When it’s me you think of, and my lace black under-things, maybe we can try this again,” she smirked. “Until then, I’m friend-zoning you.”
Mickey had a hard time letting that kiss stop. The kind where he followed after her a little bit, frowning when she really moved away. "I'm thinking of you now," he said, because after that, how could he not? It sounded better than being dropped in the all too familiar friends-zone.
“If you weren’t, I would be massively disappointed,” she grinned. “But I’m the one who wanted it enough to go for it. Maybe next time things won’t be so complicated.” That was his problem, not hers. Zania stood once more and made her way to the door, turning when she got to the doorframe. She smiled, seeing Mickey there in his underwear. “I’ll be back,” she promised. “Maybe not tonight, but... I don’t think you need me in your bed right now. Besides, you’ll have Mannix to keep you company.”
"You do know it's not a matter of not wanting it," Mickey pointed out, but he didn't stop, her this time. She was right. She'd gone for it and he hadn't. "Don't be gone too long," he told her before rolling his eyes. "Just what I want. Vampire Romeo."
“I know. But you haven’t made up your mind yet.” And she didn’t expect him to make it up in the next half hour, either. This was a deeper question for Mickey, one that he needed to address on his own. “Don’t worry. I won’t be.” She wanted to get some more of her stuff moved before she crashed. If she didn’t get her bed to her new place, she’d likely be back before the sun came up. “I’m sure you’ll have great fun. It’ll be a slumber party,” she laughed, then decided to head for the door. “Sweet dreams, Mickey.”
He knew she was right. And he wasn't close to making it up either. Rolling his eyes again at Mannix he nodded, waving as she left. Sweet dreams was a nice sentiment but he doubted he'd sleep tonight.