Mike glanced at the driftwood log where the woman, Leah, as he'd later learn, sat, her arms crossed and her expression still sharp enough to cut glass.
He rubbed the back of his neck and tried for his most harmless grin. "Mind if I sit? I think I stepped on a broken shell or something. My feet are killing me."
Before she could answer, he dropped down beside her, close enough that their shoulders were almost touching.
Leah turned her head slowly, giving him a look that could've frozen lava. "Did I say you could sit?" she asked, voice low and edged with disbelief. "Are all pale faces as shameless as you?"
But despite her tone, she didn't actually tell him to leave. In fact, she shifted slightly, just enough to make room for him to sit more comfortably.
Mike bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Her words and actions were completely at war, and watching her try to keep her composure was oddly entertaining.
Feigning offense, he placed a hand over his chest. "Hey, that's the third time you've called me a pale face already," he said dramatically. "I'll have you know that my great-grandmother was Quileute. I probably inherited my healthy tan from her." He lifted his chin proudly.
The universe, apparently unimpressed, decided to prove him wrong, the clouds above parted, and sunlight beamed directly onto him. His skin, already fair, seemed to glow with ghostly brightness.
Leah blinked, momentarily stunned by the timing. Then her lips twitched.
Mike looked up helplessly at the sun, squinting. "Okay, that's just rude," he muttered.
That did it. Leah tried to hold her glare, she really did, but the scene was too ridiculous. A sharp laugh escaped her before she could stop it, light and genuine, the kind of sound that made the air feel warmer.
Mike turned his head toward her, unable to look away. For a second, he forgot about his sore feet, the sunlight, even the awkward start of their encounter. Watching her laugh like that, unguarded and real, was absolutely worth it, even if it was at his expense.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You know," he said, tilting his head to look at her, "you should laugh more often. Don't get me wrong, your frown is pretty charming too, but that smile? It's on a whole different level."
Leah raised an eyebrow, trying to bring back her scowl, but her lips still twitched with the ghost of amusement. "You really don't quit, do you?"
He shrugged, grinning. "What can I say? I've got a philosophy, if you smile, life smiles back at you."
Leah scoffed, though her tone had softened. "That's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."
"Maybe," Mike said, leaning back on his hands and looking out at the waves, "but it's better than frowning until your face gets stuck that way."
Despite herself, Leah snorted, quickly covering it with a hand. "You're an idiot."
Mike grinned wider. "Yeah, but you're still talking to me."
Leah rolled her eyes, but she didn't tell him to leave.
Mike, still riding on the small victory of making her laugh, decided to keep the conversation alive before she could retreat behind that wall of sharp remarks again. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
"So," he began casually, "what are you doing here all by yourself?"
The question hung in the air, soft but curious. Leah's shoulders tensed immediately. Her first instinct was to shut him down, tell him to mind his own business, that her life wasn't some open book for a random pale face to read. Her lips parted, the familiar retort already forming on her tongue.
But before she could speak, Mike cut her off with a disarming grin. "Actually, forget that," he said quickly, raising a hand. "You probably don't want to tell a stranger, and I get it. So, how about we fix that part first?"
Leah blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change of tone.
"Let me start," he said, tapping his chest lightly. "Name's Mike Newton. Seventeen years old. My birthday's July twenty-seventh, in case you feel like getting me something, no pressure, of course."
He said it with such earnestness that Leah couldn't help the tiny roll of her eyes.
Mike continued, undeterred. "Let's see… I'm a Leo, which, according to my mom, means I'm supposed to be confident and irresistible. My favorite food's lasagna. I hate mornings, and I once tried to skateboard down a hill and ended up in a bush. Very heroic story, really."
Leah turned her head slightly toward him, lips pressing together as if fighting another laugh. "You really do like to talk, don't you?" she said dryly.
"Only when there's someone worth talking to," Mike replied, meeting her gaze with a grin that was annoyingly warm.
He leaned back slightly on his hands, the wood cool beneath his palms. He shot her a sideways smile. "Alright, your turn. How about you? No pressure, if you don't want to say, just say so."
Leah let out a quiet sigh, her gaze fixed on the horizon for a long moment. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, giving her just enough time to decide whether this guy was worth humoring.
Finally, she crossed her arms and said, "Leah Clearwater. Nineteen. So, you better show some respect, pipsqueak."
Mike blinked. "Nineteen?"
She gave him a pointed look, clearly enjoying his reaction.
"Yup. Which means I'm officially older and wiser than you."
Mike's eyes dropped down, taking in the full picture, her sitting there with that smug little smirk and him towering over her by at least a foot. He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering across his face.
"Older, maybe," he said with a grin. "But I think you've got the 'pipsqueak' title all wrapped up."
Leah glared at him, but the twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. "Careful, pale face. You're one smart remark away from swimming back to Forks."
Mike groaned dramatically. "Okay, seriously, can we retire the 'pale face' thing already? I told you, I'm part Quileute."
Leah arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh really? And where's your proof, pale…" she caught herself mid-word, smirking, "'part Quileute'?"
Mike straightened up, pretending to look offended. "You doubt my heritage? I'll have you know my great-grandmother was Quileute. Dorothy Black."
Leah tilted her head slightly, considering him, though her expression remained skeptical. "Uh-huh. And I'm supposed to just take your word for it?"
"Unless you want to call my mom and check our family tree," he said with a shrug, grin widening. "I could have her fax over the birth records if that helps."
Leah rolled her eyes, but the faintest laugh escaped her lips. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously Quileute," Mike said quickly, pressing his luck.
That earned him another glare, but this time, she didn't bother hiding her smile.
Then she squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. "Part Quileute, huh? Sure you are. Then prove it, pale face."
Mike groaned, rubbing his temple. "Again with the 'pale face' thing? How many times do I have to repeat it? I'm part Quileute."
"Right," she said dryly, crossing her arms. "So, what's your big proof then?"
"Well," Mike began, straightening with mock pride, "my great-grandmother was the older sister of the tribal chief back in her day. If they hadn't been such a bunch of macho traditionalists, she probably would've been chief herself. Which means," he said with a grin, pointing at himself, "in another, more progressive timeline, I'd be your future chief. So, you might wanna be careful how you talk to your possible leader."
Leah stared at him for a beat, then scoffed. "You're an idiot."
Mike only grinned wider. "Yeah, but I'm your idiot now, right?"
She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, then she suddenly pushed herself to her feet, brushing the sand from her jeans before turning to him with a crooked grin.
"Alright, Chief Pale Face, my butt's getting numb from sitting so long. How about we go for a walk?"
Mike raised an eyebrow, but stood as well, still smirking. "You're lucky your future chief is generous enough to accept that tone."
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, already walking toward the tree line. "Just try to keep up."
They walked side by side, the soft crunch of damp earth beneath their shoes filling the silence. The air was heavy with pine and sea salt, the distant crash of waves their only background music.
After a while, it was Leah who broke the quiet, surprising even herself.
"So," she said casually, not looking at him, "what are you doing here alone, anyway?"
Mike glanced over at her, caught off guard. "Oh, that." He scratched the back of his neck, chuckling softly. "Honestly? I only found out recently that I had a Quileute ancestor. Figured I'd come down and, I don't know… see if I felt some kind of mystical connection to the land or something."
Leah stopped mid-step and stared at him, her lips twitching. Then, she burst out laughing, an unrestrained, genuine laugh that echoed through the trees.
"Oh my god, that's so stupid," she said between laughs. "A mystical connection? What are you, some kind of spiritual tourist?"
Mike grinned sheepishly. "Hey, it sounded less dumb in my head."
"Uh-huh," Leah said, shaking her head as she started walking again. "You really are hopeless, Chief Pale Face."
"Careful," Mike warned playfully. "You keep saying that and I'll make it an official tribal title."
Leah only laughed again, the sound softer this time, less teasing, more real.
Mike tilted his head, studying her for a moment. "Alright, my turn to ask again, what about you, Leah? What are you doing out here by yourself?"
Leah almost laughed, ready with the same sharp retort she gave everyone else. Mind your own business.
But something in his tone, gentle, curious, and completely without pity, made her hesitate.
She exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the path ahead. "You really want to know?"
"Only if you really want to tell me," he said. "No pressure."
Leah stayed quiet for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, filled with the rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of the sea. Then, before she could stop herself, the words began to spill out.
"There's this guy," she started flatly, but her voice wavered. "Sam. He was, he is my ex. We were together for years. Since forever, really." Her hands clenched at her sides. "And then one day, he just… stopped looking at me. And started looking at my cousin instead."
Mike stayed silent, his expression soft but unreadable.
"Emily," Leah continued. "She's… sweet. Always has been. The kind of person who never means to hurt anyone. But she did. They both did."
Her laugh was brittle. "And now my mom thinks I should go visit Emily. Because she got mauled by a bear, apparently. Like that makes it all better. Like if I see her scars, I'll magically forgive everything."
She kicked a rock off the trail, hard, watching it tumble down the slope. "I told her no. I told her I was done with all of them. But she keeps asking. Keeps pretending like I'm the one being unreasonable."
When Leah finally stopped, she realized she'd said more to this near-stranger than she had to anyone in months. She looked at him then, half-expecting to see pity in his eyes, or worse, judgment.
But Mike just nodded slowly. "That's… a lot," he said softly. "And for what it's worth, I don't think you're being unreasonable."
Leah looked away, blinking hard. "You don't even know me."
"Maybe not," he admitted. "But I know what it's like when people expect you to just get over something that hurt you, like it didn't mean anything."
Leah's jaw tightened, but her voice was quieter when she answered. "Yeah. Feels like everyone wants me to heal on their schedule."
Mike smiled faintly. "Then maybe it's time you start doing things on yours."
For the first time since she started talking, Leah met his gaze again, and didn't immediately look away.
His hair was sun-bleached in places, a little messy from the wind, and his blue eyes, damn, they were bright. Too bright. They seemed to catch everything, and when they met hers, she suddenly forgot what she'd been thinking about.
Her pulse stumbled. 'Great. Just great,' she thought, scolding herself. 'Now I'm checking out the pale face.'
Mike raised a brow, noticing her sudden silence. "What?" he asked lightly. "Do I have sand on my face again?"
Leah blinked, realizing she'd been staring. A faint blush crept up her neck, and she quickly turned her gaze toward the trees. "You wish," she muttered, trying to sound sharp but not quite pulling it off. "I was just… uh," She caught herself, then changed course completely. "So. You said your birthday's in July, right?"
Mike nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah, July twenty-seventh. Which makes me a Leo. I look like a lion, don't I?" He tried to strike a regal pose, shoulders back, chin tilted proudly toward the horizon.
Leah gave him one long, unimpressed look before snorting. "A lion? Please. You look more like a golden retriever."
Mike blinked, mock-offended. "A golden retriever?"
"Yeah," Leah said, the corner of her mouth twitching upward despite herself. "All sunshine, tail wagging, and way too eager to please."
He put a hand over his chest in exaggerated hurt. "Wow. I was going for 'majestic and mysterious,' but I'll take 'loyal and adorable,' I guess."
Leah rolled her eyes, but her tone softened. "Keep talking like that and I'll start believing the horoscope thing."
Mike grinned wider, his eyes glinting in the sunlight. "See? Told you. My charm's cosmic."
Leah shook her head, but the smallest smile betrayed her amusement. "You really are an idiot, you know that?"
"Yeah," he said, not missing a beat. "But I made you smile again, didn't I?"
She looked away, trying to hide the color creeping into her cheeks. "Don't push your luck, doggy."
Mike smiled from ear to ear, "you didn't call me pale face this time, I call that a win."
…
(I hope this chapter came out well, it's very heavy in dialogue and I'm not any good at conversations so it took a lot of me. Please support with power stones, comments or reviews. ❤️)