Micah was leaning casually against the reception desk, his shoulder relaxed, his voice carrying the rhythm of someone who belonged anywhere he stepped into. The clinic staff were laughing with him, drawn into the warmth of his grin, the boy's energy spilling over and brightening the quiet environment.
Clyde returned at last, steps deliberate, his mood weighted down by the endless lecture Uncle Lin had bestowed upon him. The corner of his mouth twitched as he took in the sight before him. Micah, animated, glowing eyes bright with mischief, looked completely opposite of what Uncle Lin had just described.
This was the same boy who, according to Lin, sulked, brooded, and acted like he was annoyed by him, ready to run away.
