Page 70 of Stalked By Shadows
Of course not having thought ahead, meant I had a half dozen bags and was dying by the time I got to Micah’s door. He opened it before I could ring the bell and took some bags from me.
“Thanks. I thought my arms were going to fall off.”
Micah spread everything out on the futon and small counter space. While I was sad to see he was no longer in the Wonder Woman outfit, his shorts and snug T-shirt didn’t lessen his appeal at all. I stepped close and grabbed him for a hug. He relaxed into my embrace and kissed me lightly on the lips before letting go so we could unpack.
“I got stuff for sandwiches. Read all the ingredients. Made sure there was no dairy.” I helped sort the groceries into an assembly line for food and built a sandwich. “Wasn’t sure what you liked so I got a little bit of everything I like.” Including avocado, mustard, and bean sprouts. My sandwich was almost two inches thick by the time I put the top on it.
Micah’s wasn’t much different than mine, though he left off the mustard. We ate in relative silence, sitting on the futon, while he sorted through my clothes, and I told him about the ghost sales clerk.
“I’ve never heard of them making up stories to draw people in,” Micah said.
“She talked to me, pointed me in the direction of the racks and the dressing area. I thought she was real since she didn’t look see-through or anything. It wasn’t some passing by of a specter. She smiled and I was calm. Like magic.”
“Maybe her energy was stronger than most, or maybe someone was playing a hoax on you. Though I don’t know why they’d waste that sort of energy on hoaxing anyone. I shop there pretty regularly. Upcycle a lot of their older pieces. They seem to be doing okay financially.” He found the fabrics and ran his hands over them.
“I thought they looked nice,” I said. “Don’t know if there’s something you can do with them.” One of them sort of looked like alligator skin, though it smelled like vinyl. The pattern was too regular to be the real thing, but the effect was cool. I’d been attracted to the shiny black iridescent effect of the design.
“We’ll think of something.” He got up and began putting my stuff in his little washer. I was surprised at how much actually fit. “It’s thorough but takes a while,” Micah said. “Laundry usually takes me all day.”
I finished my sandwich and picked up Micah’s empty plate too, taking them to the kitchen and washing them. He didn’t have a dishwasher, but since he lived alone, that made sense. He did have a small drying rack which he pulled out of the cupboard and set beside the sink.
“You still working on stuff?” I asked.
“Yes. I need to measure your waist to get your kilt the right size. I really don’t have any plans other than working on a few projects today. Sorry I’m so boring.”
I laughed. “Um, I’d rather watch you sew than shop with ghosts again. It makes me wonder how many ghosts I’ve passed by in the street and thought were regular people.”
“I still can’t believe that. I’ve been in there easily a hundred times. What did she look like?”
“Girl from the seventies with long brown hair. I thought she was simply doing the retro thing really well.”
He shook his head. “Never seen her. You really must be a magnet for weird.”
I gave him narrowed, suspicious eyes. “Good thing you like weird.”
He grinned. “I am weird,” he said and headed toward the loft. I followed, bringing the new fabric with. In the loft, Jet was curled in his bed, the sewing machine setup sat in the middle of the floor space, and a long white plastic sort of cutting mat lay sprawled near the machine. I found my way to a cushion beside Jet that felt a bit like a beanbag chair. Micah dug through a drawer until he pulled out a measuring tape, then came over and wrapped it around my waist. He wrote some number down on a little piece of paper next to his machine.
“Oh, here’s that fabric we got yesterday.” He unfolded the bit of fabric with the dragons and it took a minute for me to figure out what it was. It looked like a pillow case, with drawstrings on the end. “It can double as an overnight bag. Carry your clothes and your pillow.” Micah’s cheeks turned pink. “For when you want to stay over.”
I grinned at him and took the case, examining it. “This is great!” And I knew where he kept extra pillows. I crawled to the chest and dug through the stack of quilts until I found a spare pillow, then stuffed it into the case. A perfect fit.
“Pillow cases only take ten minutes or so to make,” Micah said, again dismissing his skill and creativity. “I wanted to make something you could use.”
I leaned over until I could brush my lips across his cheek and said, “Thank you. I love it.” I curled up around the pillow in my new pillow case and watched him sew.
He was very focused, turning and cutting or pinning something over the mat, then back to the machine to run a line of thread. He changed colors easily, the rough outline of the kilt coming together until he finished up a final stitch and held it up for me. He had used the leather looking material we had picked up yesterday. The tiny hexagons made the fabric look expensive and very custom. The folds of the fabric opened to reveal the design, like the intricate folds of a wing of some fictional beast. The multi-colored sections between shimmered iridescent with scales more defined than the mermaid patterns I’d seen him use. I was in love and hadn’t even gotten to touch it yet.
“Nice. Can I wear it already? Or does it need to be washed first?”
“I prewashed the fabric before cutting. Try it on so I can make sure I got the waist and length right. It should fall right above the knee.”
I took it expecting it to be heavy only it wasn’t, feeling more like a pair of shorts than the leather look of the fabric. I slipped off my shorts and slid the kilt on over my boxers. It zipped shut, and fit perfectly, resting on my hips, not pulling down, even though the weight of the fabric kept it draped. I swung my hips, testing how it felt.
“I thought you said you were going to wear that the right way?” Micah said, staring at me, brow raised.
“Oh, right,” I said, and shoved my boxers off. I expected it to be weird or that I wouldn’t like the fabric around my cock, or that I’d feel a substantial breeze, but even wiggling my hips around, other than feeling ‘free’ and loose, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.
Micah fiddled with the hem of the kilt, frowning at it for a minute.