Micah sat between Clyde and Uncle Lin, his back straight, hands resting on his knees like an obedient good boy. His palms were starting to sweat, but he didn't dare wipe them on his pants. The silence stretched forever. Was he supposed to say something? Was it rude to just sit here? His knee bounced once before he caught himself. The table before them was set neatly, but the food hadn't arrived yet.
The room was too quiet. Micah's tolerance of being still had stretched dangerously to its limit.
Uncle Lin noticed the boy's subtle shifting, signalling his impatience. Clyde, god bless him, was drawn to that cup of tea like it was holy water.
Uncle Lin's fingers tapped gently on his cup before he looked at Micah.
"So are you studying or working?" he asked, deciding it was his job to not let the young man bolt from the room.
"I'm studying. Fashion design," Micah replied, his body relaxed a bit.
Uncle Lin raised his brows in interest. "Oh, then you must know Georgina."
