Resistance || Noah and Micah || V9 W2 || Monday Morning
technxpathic:
@mrbennets
Micah needed someone he could trust. Noah wasn’t someone who screamed trustworthy in any traditional sense, but he was good at getting his jobs done. Rubbing his hand over his hair, he sent a text message to Noah.
“I need you for a mission.” The message said. Micah was having trouble getting a fool-proof plan in place, something to take down Shelby, to get ahead of this mandatory registration. It was too late in the game to set aside assistance for mass resistance.
This wasn’t Noah’s first rodeo, and Micah knew he would have some guidance to offer on the subject.
Noah wrapped his hands around his travel mug and breathed in the scent of coffee. His eyes slid in and out of focus as he read through another deluge of emails from concerned parents. He scowled and gulped at his drink and burned his tongue---again. He’d had the mug for long enough, he should be able to remember it kept liquids ludicrously hot, but years of flimsy paper cups and lidless ceramics had ingrained in him a habit of drinking without taking the time to check the coffee’s temperature. Amateur mistake.
His phone beeped and he slammed his drink down on his desk, ruffling a stack of papers. I need you for a mission, said the text. Noah frowned. He wasn’t sure what Micah was planning, but he suspected it was best dealt with away from the school.
Meet in person, Noah typed back. Off campus.














