"I don't know if I like the idea of getting used to this sort of thing." Micah shakes his head, folding his arms across his chest. "You know what happened to me on the ride here? I got a whole other language up in here now." He taps a finger at his temple, indicating his brain, then shoves both hands inside the pockets of his black leather motorcycle jacket. "It's weird."

Micah's tense, and it bleeds through in the taut way he speaks, but it's more a product of general circumstances, not any specific feelings about Nathan, or remembered feelings about his Other. He's usually tense, though - full of unexpressed energy, unable to sit or stand still for long. Nathan will likely come to recognize this as Micah's standard, in time, if he hasn't already.

But it's one reason why Micah's glad to get moving when Nathan makes the suggestion - it's time to move on to the next step. No sense in prolonging the wait, right? He nods, shifting his weight back onto his heels.

"Lead the way."