His reasons were purely out of a desperation to live. It was like using Micheal to stay safe but to make it up to Micheal; he would work like a slave in his house, learn the things he wasn't good at, and make sure the thoughts of dying never crossed Micheal's mind.
Even if he had to annoy him to death with his persistence for that to happen, he would do it.
That was how desperate he was to survive even without his memories. Something was waiting for him, he knew it.
As an Alpha, duty-bound to his pack, he should feel an urgent need to quickly get bus memories and reclaim his rightful place. Yet, a peculiar sense of calm had settled over him just after two days of living here.
It was as if the tranquil life of a nobody was more appealing than the mighty Alpha he once was.
And it made him wonder, what kind of life did he live? He must've been proud, walking with authority and his head held high. He must've been revered but... That feeling, even though he did not remember it too well, did not actually give him the peace of mind he currently had.
He probably had people chasing after him at all times, trying to bring him and his pack down, so he probably never had peace of mind.
It was never calm.
He touched his chest, acknowledging the desperation that still lingered, but it was no longer the driving force. A disturbing thought crept in: had he lost his edge in just two days of staying with Micheal?
"Have I gone mad?" he wondered, shaking his head to clear the thought.
He refocused on his priorities. He needed to stay alive, to stay out of sight from his purses while he still hadn't regained his full strength, not just for himself, but to uncover the force threatening his pack.
Regaining his memory and strength was crucial. And for now, laying low was the only option and Micheal served as a temporary shield for that cause, nothing more.
"I won't stay here forever," he said, gritting his teeth with a strong resolve lingering in his dark eyes.
That night had no unexpected events. At least, Micheal did not fall in the bathroom again. He opened the door and found Noah standing outside like he said he would.
Micheal looked away from him. Yes, he was bigger than him, but he didn't have to rub it off by standing so close that their stature was so offensively comparable.
"I'm done," Micheal said. "You can go take your bath now. I'll order pizza for dinner."
Since his hand was out of commission, they weren't going to be having any homemade food for the time being.
'I don't have to ask him if he's okay with it.' Micheal said as he started making his way to his room. 'He doesn't have a choice but to eat what I provide.'
"Do you not need my help?" Noah suddenly asked, causing Micheal to stop in his tracks. "You can't put on your clothes by yourself. So, I..."
"Hah!" Micheal sighed in exhaustion. "You'll probably give me a thousand and one reason why I need your help, right?" His eyes glazed over. "After all, I am handicapped."
Noah did not affirm or deny his words. He simply stared at him, waiting to hear his final decision.
"Okay, sure. Take care of me, my big wolfman Nanny. Help me out on my clothes."
It looked like the tables had turned.
Before he felt he had been the nanny, going out of his way to help this big guy, but now that he was hurt, he was the one being taken care of.
"Don't look." Micheal yelled as he struggled to put on his briefs. Noah looked away but he was almost certain that Micheal would need his help. "Ugh, why is it so frustrating?"
Yes, he needed his help.
"Let me..."
"No, you can't look."
"It's not like I haven't already seen it." Noah said and Micheal got offended.
"Still, it's not an excuse for you to keep looking. I'm embarrassed as it is, so don't." Micheal said.
"Then I'll keep my eyes closed."
"I said no!" Micheal yelled and sat on the bed. "I'll make it work however I can so let me do this by myself, at least."
Noah sighed. He would wait, and if he still wasn't able to put on his briefs by himself, he would force his help on him, just as he did before.
"There, I got it done by myself!" Micheal announced victoriously and he laughed. "See, once I put my mind to it, I can do it on my own. I don't need your help."
Noah nodded, clapping his hand to commemorate his achievement.
"Well done," he said but his expression did not show he was happy at all. It was like a half-assed congratulations. No, it looked like he didn't even mean it. "Now, let me help you put on your clothes."
"Wait, hold on. I'll..."
"We both know you can't put on your shirt with one hand." Noah interrupted him. "So, if you'll excuse me."
Micheal was dissatisfied with that bitter feeling at the tip of his tongue but he could only silently allow Noah to treat him like a child.
"I could've handled this on my own," he pouted and Noah saw this.
He was... Childish. How old was he?
Noah had no idea but he was sure he was way over 20. Probably in his early 30's.
'Come to think of it, I don't know what his name is.' Noah thought. He never actually asked and Micheal did not bother to tell him either. 'It's probably not important.'
Micheal didn't plan to put on pants to sleep so all that was left was to dry his hair.
"Please sit, I'll dry your hair." Noah said.
Micheal sat on the bed as Noah cleaned his hair thoroughly and gently with a towel. The only sound he could hear in that quiet room was that of his beating heart and the ruffling sound the towel made as it came into contact with his hair.
For some reason, his heart was acting strange just because Noah was cleaning his hair and his fingers were subtly grazing his ear and his nape.
He felt like he was holding his breath, since he was out of breath and his cheeks were puffed.
"I... I don't like this silence,"