✮ 𝕭𝖑𝖈𝖐𝕹𝖊𝖇𝖚𝖑𝖆 ✮

and it only got worse when there was a down time in the home, michael had return early and prince and paris were content entertaining themselves and each other after having lunch. so that just left you, michael, and blanket at the table, the two of you talking about blanket's milestones, having seen him hit important ones like saying his first word and taking his first steps since you started nannying the jackson kids just a couple of months before blanket's first birthday. michael watched you with a certain look in his eyes as you clean off blanket's messy face and hand hands with a wipe before you remove him from his booster seat and watch him run over to where his siblings are.

you begin to ramble on about the doctor's visit michael had to unfortunately miss earlier that morning. "y'know, he's hitting all of his milestones excellently!" you beam. michael nods along, a smile to match your own. because if he didn't he'd continue to dwell on missing an important check up for his child, despite your reassurance that it's just one out of the countless other visits he's been there for. "hm, tell me more." and you do. going on about blanket's coordination and the small sentences he's started to form, especially when you read to him. and somehow that caused you to go off on a tangent about how paris has been loving one of your childhood books the paper bag princess, a small telltale of the age difference. it's in the moment that michael realizes how much you care about the kids, his kids development into tiny humans. and he honestly, like really truthfully can't help but shift in his seat, eyes concentrated on the natural glow you have as you talk about prince's interest to remove his training wheels on his bike. and he should be paying a attention, especially since it's his eldest boy your talking about. you're just making it extremely hard to pay attention, and his thoughts don't help, not when they're all about how glowy and borderline angelic you'd look pregnant with his child. so, really, it isn't his fault when he mutters out. "have you ever thought about having your own kids?" the question makes you stop talking and you just stair. taking in how michael's hair cascades over his face and his eyebrows raised a little at the ask of the question. "um-" you're trying to rang in any loose thought in your mind. but all that keeps racing within it is that this is your boss who just asked you this question, and it's a harmless one, you get asked it quite a bit from family and friend. and you consider you and michael close enough for a question like this to come up, but the way he's staring you down as if he's hungry when there's a plate of half touched food in front of him has you feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "i do," answering honestly. that's all michael needs to hear. "you'll be a great mother," he compliments, with thoughts that he'll be the man to make you a mother.

JULY 1987

"Michael, what are you doing?" You asked him to pull you in front of a camera.

"Boys, come here for a second," Michael called.

Michael shifted the camera as the twins came into view. "This is our first family trip, so I figured I wanted to take some photos." He shrugged.

Michael stepped back to where you three were standing. Wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled the twins closer to him. "It's on a timer, so smile now."

You quickly put on a smile as the camera flashed. "Are you going to take some when we're at Disneyland?"

Michael looked at you. "Of course." He looked down at the twins. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah!" Both twins said as they giggled.

You and Michael decided this would be the perfect time to try a family outing. Michael was about to drop an album and wouldn't be home much cause of touring. But also, the twins were starting Kindergarten later this August, as you two found a private school for them.

"I swear, as soon as something happens. We are pulling the twins out." Michael said as you two cuddled in bed.

"I know there is some caution, but we have to try at least." You patted Michael's chest.

"The media hasn't said anything about our children, and I want to keep it that way." Michael sighed. "I just don't know if I trust people not to say anything to the press."

"And we made sure they didn't know after it was leaked that we're looking into adoption." You lifted your head to give a soft peck to his cheek.

"Just give it a chance, Michael." You smiled lightly. "At least we can say that we tried."

You bent down to the twins' level. "What are you excited to see today?"

"Mickey Mouse," Cameron yelled excitedly.

"Yeah, you wanna take some pictures with Mickey Mouse?" You questioned.

Cameron nodded his head as he held hands with Marcus. "Yeah."

You turned to Marcus. "What do you want to see?"

"Goofy." Marcus swayed his body as he said it.

"Oh, that's a good choice, I like Goofy too." You pinched his cheek.

You stood back up as Michael walked back over. You wrapped your arm around Michael's. "Maybe we can see your Daddy on the big screen while we're there." You said, referring to Captain EO.

Michael laughed. "How about that on another day?" Trying to play it off, but you can't change a 5-year-old's mind once set on something.

"I want to see." Both twins pleaded as they grabbed hold of Michael's leg and looked up at him.

"It's so hard to say no to you two." Michael laughed.

During the long drive, you and Michael are trying to calm the hyperactive twins with different bribes.

"Mommy, I want some Mickey ears," Marcus said as soon as you went through the front entrance.

"Let's go find some." You grabbed Cameron's hand. "Maybe we can find matching ones for the whole family?" You reached out to grab Marcus's other hand as Michael walked close behind you.

Michael bought out the park for the day, which wasn't hard, as Michael had closed the deal with Captain EO. The park is still full of people enjoying their time as Michael decided to have it open for his staff, too. Touring and non-touring to enjoy with their families. Michael wanted to make it as normal as possible for his children, but in a safe way. As he still had security trail after them, led by Bill.

You guided the twins into a gift shop, where they gasped with excitement upon entering. They let go of your hand to run off. "Don't run off too far, now." You yelled.

"I'll keep an eye on them." Bill put a hand on your shoulder before he trailed after them.

You browsed through the aisle, looking at some things, when you felt something behind you. You turned around to see Michael in a mask.

"Shit!" You clutched your chest. "Michael!" You swat his arm.

You heard him laugh loudly. "I got you, didn't I?" He took the mask off. "Who knew I could scare you in a Donald Duck mask?"

You crossed your arms as he continued to laugh. "Laugh it up, it wasn't that funny." You stared at him.

"No, it was hilarious." He said. "I wish I could take a picture."

You rolled your eyes as you started to walk again, ignoring him. "I do have my camera."

"You do? Let me see it." Michael reached a hand out.

"No, I want to take as many pictures as possible, as I only have so much film." You said, "Besides, didn't you bring yours?"

"Yes, but it's twice the memories." Michael held onto your hands. "Please? We can take one now."

"Fine." You slipped off the camera that was around your neck. "Here."

You huddled closer to Michael as he raised the camera. "Smile, baby." He took the picture.

"Let's take another one." He said as he faced the camera towards you two again. You decided to kiss his cheek as he took it.

"I need to print the pictures we take before I go on tour." Michael smiled at you. "I want my little family to be with me at all times."

"Aww, baby." You kissed him.

You were about to kiss a few more times when you were interrupted by the twins. "Mommy, Daddy, we found some." They raised the Mickey ears up.

"Those are too cute." You grabbed one of them and placed it on Michael's head.

"Doesn't Daddy look good with them?" You asked.

"Yeah!"

You saw Michael blush as he turned his head. "Stop it."

"Never." You whispered towards him before pulling back, giggling.

Michael crouched down to place Mickey ears on the twins' heads. "Now we're both matching."

You smiled as Michael grabbed both twins' hands as he went to pay for the ears. You wandered back outside. A moment later, Mickey ears were placed on your head by Michael.

"Now we both look pretty good," Michael said before he started walking again.

You led the twins to various rides and places within the park. Letting them truly enjoy themselves. You couldn't help but let their wonder infect your body too.

"Daddy, I want to go on teacups," Marcus said, pulling on Michael's sleeve.

"Yeah?" Michael looked down. "Let's go."

The twins dragged Michael as you walked behind them. "Let's go, Mommy." Cameron reached out his other hand to grab yours.

All four of you got on the ride. You and Michael turned the wheel on the teacup harder to get it to spin faster. Cameron and Marcus laughed as their bodies moved inside. "Mommy, Daddy, faster." Marcus clapped his hands.

"Michael, you heard him, put in more strength." You raised your voice over the current.

"No, baby, I think he was talking to you." He laughed as he turned the wheel.

All of you exploded some more until Michael insisted you get photos in front of the Sleeping Beauty Castle. You handed the camera to one of the security guards. As you walked to where all four of you were in front of the castle. Michael picked up the twins in his arms. They pressed their cheeks against his. You stood in front of them, smiling broadly.

"I bet that's going to be a cute picture." You said as you took the camera back.

"I should print that too." Michael placed the twins down on the ground. "We should create a family book, I think it would be great."

"I think it would." You smiled.

As you started to walk again, you listened to the twins ramble about the castle and how big it is. You spotted a certain mouse walking. You gently stopped Cameron from walking as you pointed in that direction.

"Cameron, I think I see Mickey Mouse." You gently grabbed onto his shoulders.

Cameron looked wide-eyed at you, then at the mouse. "Wanna get closer."

Cameron nodded his head as he walked closer to the approaching figure. Michael chuckled behind you while carrying Marcus.

"Are you nervous, Cameron?" Michael asked.

"No," Cameron said, but his eyes got wider as Mickey Mouse waved his hands as he was finally standing in front of Cameron.

Cameron stared at you and Michael for the longest time before looking back at Mickey Mouse. At first, it was teary eyes and small sniffles, then it turned into a full cry. You looked at Michael with surprised eyes.

You hugged Cameron. "It's okay, it's fine." You patted his back.

Cameron clutched onto you as he continued crying. You swayed his body back and forth, soothing him.

You heard a sharp giggle that came from Marcus. "Bru bru crying cause of a mouse."

Michael quickly covered Marcus's mouth with his hand to silence him as a glare appeared in his face. "We don't do that." Michael sounded in a sharp tone.

That only made Cameron cry harder into your body. You tried to cheer him up. "Come on, aren't you just excited?"

You lifted his face with your hands. "He's here for you, don't you want to take a picture?"

Cameron's cries calmed down slightly as he looked at the mouse. You wiped the tears off his face before guiding him to Mickey Mouse. "Okay? It's fine." You smiled at him.

You pushed him to stand in front of Mickey Mouse. "Now do a big pose and say cheese." You gave a smile to him.

You snapped a couple of pictures of him. Once you drop the camera, you open your arms, causing him to run towards you. "You did a great job, baby, such a big boy." You closed your arms around him.

Michael watched the interaction with a smile. That was until Marcus tugged on him. He fixed his stare on another figure, which turned out to be Goofy.

"Oh." Michael looked at Marcus. "Want some photos with him?"

But as Marcus's face came into view. Michael saw a small tear roll down his face. "Oh, wow, and you talked about your brother crying."

AUGUST 30th 1987

You stood in the middle of the large room. An arm wrapped around your back as Michael talked to someone. You look around, taking in all the people who were here for Michael's album release party. You recognized some people who have been in the industry for years, as well as some new faces.

You blinked back to reality as a hand rubbed circles on your back. Michael turned his head towards you. "You bored?"

"No, I was just people watching." You responded.

"People watching?" Michael shot up an eyebrow. "It seems like you were spacing out."

"Yeah?" You huddled closer to him. "Can't a girl just space out?" You laughed

"I won't stop you," Michael said as he guided you further into the room.

You had multiple people compliment your hair and clothes as you walked by them. "Girl, you have to tell what you're wearing, you smell good." One woman stopped you.

"Obsession by Calvin Klein." You responded

"I wouldn't expect anything less than opulence from you, Mrs. Jackson." The woman said.

"Thank you." You beamed.

You smiled to yourself as Michael gently tugged you again. You two made your way to a table where Quincy Jones was seated with a few other people from Epic Records.

"Michael!" Quincy shouted out. "I was just telling them about the making of the album."

Michael slipped a hand in yours. "Yeah?" He put on a professional smile. "We took our time to make this album."

You zoned out again, as you didn't particularly like this type of thing. You show up to be a supportive wife. But you were so bored out of your mind. You fiddled with the beads on your outfit as you listened to them, basically corporate talk, about the upcoming album, sales, and what Michael wants to do on his tour.

Michael looked and noticed you were not paying attention to anything in particular. He excused himself with a smile. He walked you two out the door to the grand hallway.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah?" You nodded your head. Michael gave you a look. "Okay, I'm bored."

"You should've said yes the first time when I asked," Michael explained. "We could just leave."

"I don't just want to leave; this is for you." You crossed. "For your album."

"Me leaving one release party will not be the end of the world." Michael put his hands on your shoulders.

"How about we get rid of your boredom for a minute?" Michael questioned, a smirk forming.

"What?" You wondered, but Michael already started walking.

"Follow me." Michael made a 'come here' gesture with his hand behind his back.

You followed Michael as he led you down the hallway. You looked at his back as he reached behind to grab your hand. You finally made it to a bathroom that was tucked in a corner. When you made it inside, it looked like a private bathroom. A fancy one at that. It had a whole powder room with couches and tables.

"Michael, how did you find this?"

"I've been here before. I found it the last time." Michael sat down on one of the couches. He spread his legs wider as he patted his lap.

"Right here, baby."

You stood there for a minute before you made your way to sit in his lap. Michael put his hands on your thighs. "I like this dress."

"You actually bought with the card you begged me to use." You laughed lightly. "I have my own income to buy things."

"Just cause you have your own money doesn't mean I like to spend my own on you." Michael slid one hand along the beaded waist of your dress.

"You like your independence, I respect that." Michael lowered his head to kiss your neck. "But also you're mine to cherish."

Michael lifted his head, putting a hand on your cheek to turn your face to kiss your lips. You returned the kiss, seeking to take it deeper. Michael smirked against your lips as he pulled back, licking his.

"Did you take me here so you could fuck me?" You breathless said.

"And what if I said yes?" Michael pulled your face to his.

He kissed you deeper this time, taking both of your legs to put them over his, spreading your legs wider. He trailed kisses down your neck. He slid a hand between your thighs.

"Keep them open." Michael reached under your dress. He played with the line of your panties before he slid them down.

Michael ghosted his fingers over your folds, rubbing lightly. Michael played with your folds before putting one finger in. You gasped, closing your legs around his hand.

"Relax." His voice sounded deeper to your ears. Michael parted your legs again. He slipped his finger out and put it in his mouth.

"You taste sweet, baby, wanna taste?" Michael kissed you as you nodded your head. His tongue swirling around yours.

"Just relax, baby, I'll make you feel good." Michael breathed against your lips.

Michael continued again, making slow, in-and-out movements. You made a small moan as he dropped your head against his shoulder. Michael slid another finger in, going slightly faster.

"You hear that? You hear how wet you are." You listened to wet sounds in the bathroom echo loudly.

"Fuck Michael." You moaned out.

"Yeah? Does that feel good?" Michael moved his fingers faster, putting his thumb to your clit.

"Yes, keep going." You turned his head to kiss him. "Keep going." You said against his lips.

"You're so pretty like this, so pretty." Michael moved his fingers at a different angle.

You felt your pussy clench around his fingers as you felt heat pool in the bottom of your stomach. You wrapped your hand around his wrist from the simulation. Michael pulled your hand away as he made a sound in your ear.

"No, baby, let it happen," Michael whispered. "Matter of fact, I want to taste you."

Michael pulled his fingers out. You whined at the lost contact. He moved you off his lap and lay you down on the couch. Bunching your dress to your hips. Michael put your legs over his shoulders. He hovered his head over your pussy before he licked between your folds.

You threw your head back, smoothing his hair with your hand. "Michael." Your voice rose higher.

"Cum in my mouth, I want to taste you," Michael spoke before his licks became more insistent.

You moaned louder. Knowing these bathroom walls are not thick. People outside can probably hear you.

"Oh god, I'm cumming." You clenched your thighs around his head as your pussy gushed against his mouth.

Michael lifted his head from your thighs, his hair slightly messy. His mouth shining as he licked them.

He pulled you up slightly as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself. "I need you to get on top of me."

Michael sat back down on the couch. He unzipped his pants, pulling his underwear down just enough for his dick to slap against him.

"Up, baby," Michael patted his lap as he grabbed your hand.

You moved to sit over his lap, you lifted your hips. You wrapped your hand around the base of him. Michael threw his head against the couch as you slowly inched yourself on his dick. You only made it halfway through when Michael grabbed your hips.

"Baby, you're tight." Michael moved his hips to get more comfortable as you bottomed out.

You grounded your hips against his. You bounced a little to get more comfortable. Michael gripped your hips harder as he started to move them. You moved your hands to his shoulders for a steadier movement as you moved faster.

"Baby, keep going." Michael tapered off at the end with a whimper.

You moved faster, watching the column of Michael's neck move. A loud moan slipped out of you as Michael slapped your ass, a loud sound rebounding off the walls.

"I'm going to move faster; I need to move with me." Michael's voice, hoarse in the air. "You gotta fuck me back."

You nodded your head as he moved his hands to your ass. He smacked your ass harder than last.

"Words," Michael said.

"Yes, Michael, yes."

Michael lifted his hips as he fucked up into faster, chasing a high. "Yes, just like that, baby."

He continued speaking words of encouragement to help you get there. You breathe heavily as you try to keep up with his pace.

"I'm going to cum." Michael panted.

"Me too." A tear slipped from your eye from pleasure as you shut your eyes.

"Open your eyes," Michael said. "I want to see you while you cum."

You opened your eyes to his. A wild look crossed his eyes before he bit his lip. "You don't know how much love knowing I'm the only one that can make you feel like this."

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he snapped his hips faster before his orgasm came over him. Causing yours to hit right after him.

You slumped over Michael's body, catching your breath. You smiled lightly as Michael placed kisses on your hair

"You bored now?" Michael laughed breathlessly.

"No, you satisfied me." You kissed his lips.

The two of you stayed there until you decided that you had been gone for too long. Michael helped you by fixing your dress in place. While Michael made himself decent. You looked in the mirror to fix your makeup. You beckoned Michael over as you looked for the makeup you kept in your bag for public events, since Michael tends to smudge it.

"I'm glad I decided to go light tonight with makeup." Michael laughed.

"Almost like you had a plan." You hummed as you wiped the sponge across his nose.

"Maybe." Michael wrapped his arm around your waist once you finished, guiding you two out of the bathroom.

Both of you took your leisurely time to get back to the room before Bill rushed out with the other security. "Where have you two been?" Bill spoke in a panic. "I was starting to think the worst."

"Don't worry, we decided to spend some alone time with each other." Michael tilted his head as you nodded to his words.

"What?" Bill was confused, but Michael laughed as he walked back into the room.

"Crazy ass kids."

SEPTEMBER 2ND 1987

Michael sighed as Frank went on about how this interview would be great for the two of you. You patted Michael's shoulder for comfort as you crossed your legs.

"Frank, why did you agree to this interview without telling me the whole truth?" Michael pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I knew you wouldn't agree to just yourself," Frank explained as Michael's whole management team surrounded the room.

"So they want to interview my wife, too?"

"Yes, great publicity for your new album." Frank leaned against the wall of the dressing room. "You haven't done an interview together since 1982. People want a new one."

"There is a reason why." You deadpanned at Frank.

The last time you and Michael had an interview together was right after your engagement. Well, it was fine until the interviewer started asking personal questions about their lives. You stood up for yourself, causing all hell to break loose. They were calling you everything in the book. Aggressive towards the interviewer. Rude for your answers to these questions. Papers saying you and Michael were a perfect match. 'Crazy and Aggressive.'

You literally cried while Michael comforted you cause it was such a shit show. And Michael said that was your first and last interview. And now you are sitting here facing the complete opposite.

"The media was relentlessly against her." Michael rolled his eyes. "It was bad, that's why it's only that interview from 1982."

"She just needs some PR training." Frank rebutted.

"Should have done that shit earlier then." You sarcastically said.

"See? That is what we don't need." Frank sighed.

"Let's just get this over with." You stood up.

"Baby, are you sure?" Michael followed you as you began walking.

"Yes, I'm sure." You wrapped your arm around his.

You regret this interview so much. It has taken so many times not to roll your eyes. It was a string of stupid questions. You rubbed your temples for relief as Michael kept a hand on your thigh. You wished you had sunglasses like his; maybe you could hide your facial expressions better.

"There has been a lot of speculation about how you got together." The interviewer asked. "Was it for money?"

"I'm not with Michael for money." You sighed. "I'm not a gold digger."

Michael still smiles politely. You don't know how he does it. You want to strangle this interviewer. It's taking everything in you not to crack.

"People have said you, Michael, are gay and that she is your cover-up."

You laughed through your nose as you shook your head. What is this? Tabloid hour as they talk about every fucking rumor in existence. You rolled your head in a circle, shaking your shoulders.

"You bi-."

Michael stopped your outburst as he noticed you getting antsy and decided to take over. "We love each other; we couldn't fake the last 10 years together."

"Yes, we love each other very much." You put on the fakest smile towards the interviewer, swallowing the remark you were about to say.

"Let's move on to your children."

Michael's hand gripped yours hard as your heart dropped to your ass.

"Excuse me?" Michael asked as he must have misheard.

"The two children you have together." The interviewer reiterated.

"Interview over." Michael abruptly stood up, taking off the pact from around his waist. He took hold of your hand while taking your pact off the back of your suit.

The producer tried to block you and Michael from walking off. "I swear I didn't know that those questions were on there, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson."

"You knew." You said with a glare. "You wanted to get a headline."

"I promise that's not tru-"

"I don't want to hear anymore." Michael ended the conversation, giving the producer a blank stare.

"Frank, I have to talk to you now," Michael said as you walked back to the dressing room.

Michael closed the door behind him.

"How the fuck did they figure that out?" Michael hummed as the room went quiet. It was rare to hear Michael curse, even more rare to hear him raise his voice.

"Michael, I didn't know that they would ask that," Frank explained quickly.

"Well, they did," Michael answered sharply.

"I want you to find out who else knows about our twins. Cause if this news outlet knows." Michael stood tall against the door. "Everybody does."

"I didn't want my children in this shit." Michael sighed. "This was the last thing I wanted."

"Michael, we will figure this out." One of the assistants inputted.

"I truly hope." You looked at Michael as he said that. Knowing how his paranoia can get. It must be spiraling right now, and that might lead to some impulsive decisions.

"Everyone, leave. I need to talk to my wife." Everyone shuffled out of the room, hearing Michael's words.

"We need to get the twins out of school right now." Michael looked at you with a serious look.

"Michael, we need to be practical right now. Going to their school will only bring more attention." You tried to reason.

"I really don't care," Michael said, using your name, which was rare, as he only ever said pet names.

"Michael, I know you're scared for our children, I get it." You clasped your hands together. "Let's not make impulsive decisions." You pleaded.

Michael sighed as he sat down on one of the chairs. "I'm scared, hearing that interviewer say that scared me."

You sat down next to him. "I know." You rubbed his back.

The more you rubbed his back, the more your vision blurred with tears. You put one hand over your mouth. "I wanted to give them something normal too."

Michael looked at you. He pulled you in a hug to comfort you. He kissed the top of your head. "It's alright, baby. We're both scared."

"I didn't mean to cry." You buried your head into his chest.

"That's nothing to be ashamed about." Michael tried to calm you down, swaying you back and forth. "We will get through like we do everything else, okay?" Michael said.

"Okay." After a beat of silence. "I love you." You pressed a hand to Michael's arm.

"I love you too."

You unwrapped yourself from Michael to go to the vanity to get a tissue. "Don't let me catch that interviewer in the streets." You patted your face with the tissue.

"Girl! What?" Michael chuckled.

The stadium glowed gold beneath the stage lights.

More than thirty thousand people screamed loud enough to shake the floor beneath your heels, their voices echoing through the massive arena as anticipation buzzed through the air like electricity. Cameras flashed endlessly from every direction while giant screens looped shots of the crowd.

Beside you, Janet laughed softly at something Randy said, though your attention was somewhere else entirely.

The stage.

More specifically

Your husband.

The second Michael stepped into the spotlight, the entire stadium erupted.

The screams became deafening.

Dressed in gold and black, glittering beneath the lights like something unreal, Michael smiled shyly toward the audience before bringing the microphone to his lips.

And then the opening notes of Heaven Can Wait filled the stadium.

You smiled instantly.

That song always did something to you.

At first, everything felt normal.

Michael moved effortlessly across the stage, smooth and elegant beneath the lights as dancers surrounded him. He pointed toward the audience occasionally, smiling at fans, performing the way he always did.

But then

He looked at you.

Not just a glance.

Not just a passing look.

A real one.

Soft.

Warm.

Intentional.

Your breath caught slightly as Michael smiled at you from across the stage before continuing the song, his voice melting through the speakers like honey.

Janet noticed immediately.

“Oh, Lord,” she muttered beside you, already grinning.

“What?” you whispered, though your cheeks were beginning to warm.

“He started already.”

You frowned. “Started what?”

Janet only pointed toward the stage.

And there Michael was again.

Looking directly at you while singing Heaven Can Wait like the lyrics had been written specifically for you.

The next few minutes only made it worse.

Every time he crossed the stage, his body angled toward your section. His choreography subtly shifted until half of his movements were facing you entirely. During softer lyrics, his expression gentled in a way that made your stomach flip.

And the audience noticed.

The first loud screams started when Michael pointed toward VIP during the chorus.

The second happened when the giant screen behind him cut directly to your face.

Your eyes widened instantly.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, horrified as thirty thousand people screamed louder.

Randy nearly choked laughing beside you.

Michael, however, looked delighted.

Actually delighted.

The man had the audacity to smile wider before continuing the song.

By the final chorus, he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

His eyes stayed locked onto you while he sang, voice softer somehow despite the massive stadium surrounding him. Like the performance had narrowed down to only the two of you.

Then came the line that truly ruined you.

Michael slowly walked toward the edge of the stage nearest the VIP section, his eyes never once leaving yours as he sang the final chorus of Heaven Can Wait.

The crowd noticed instantly.

Screams erupted throughout the stadium while the cameras zoomed in shamelessly.

Your cheeks burned.

Michael only smiled harder.

And then, during one of the final lines—

He mouthed something.

I love you.

Your heart nearly stopped.

Completely flustered, you mouthed it back without thinking.

The crowd absolutely lost their minds.

The screams that followed were so loud Michael actually laughed mid-song, ducking his head shyly while the cameras zoomed in on him instantly.

“Oh, he is gone,” Jermaine muttered from backstage.

“This ain’t even a concert anymore,” Randy added dramatically. “We watching date night live.”

Janet laughed so hard beside you she nearly had tears in her eyes.

“Oh, baby,” she teased, nudging your shoulder gently. “That man forgot thirty thousand people were here.”

And somehow

Somehow

Michael still found ways to make it worse.

During the final chorus, he reached his hand out toward your section while singing, smiling softly when you shook your head in embarrassment. The giant screen behind him immediately cut to your face again, catching the exact moment you buried your face in your hands while laughing.

The audience screamed louder.

Michael looked entirely too pleased with himself

--------

The second Michael stepped backstage, chaos erupted.

“There he is!” Jermaine yelled dramatically.

“Mr. Serenade Your Wife On Live Television,” Randy added.

Michael blinked innocently, still breathless from performing. “What?”

Janet gasped loudly. “Oh, don’t do that.”

Randy immediately replayed the footage on one of the backstage monitors.

The screen showed Michael singing Heaven Can Wait directly toward the VIP section with the softest expression anyone had ever seen on him.

Then it zoomed in further.

Michael mouthing I love you.

The room exploded.

Tito nearly doubled over laughing while Jackie shook his head.

“You are sick with love,” Janet accused through laughter.

Michael tried and failed to hide his smile.

“I was performing the song,” he defended weakly.

“To your wife,” Jermaine corrected instantly.

“For like fifteen straight minutes,” Randy added.

Michael rolled his eyes shyly, though the grin on his face completely ruined any attempt at pretending innocence.

Then the monitor replayed the moment you mouthed I love you back.

The backstage room somehow got even louder.

“Ohhhhhh, she got him bad,” Randy shouted.

Michael finally laughed, ducking his head while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Y'all are annoying.”

“No,” Janet corrected sweetly. “You’re in love.”

-------

By the next morning, the entire internet had lost its mind.

Every entertainment channel replayed clips from the performance nonstop.

Every radio station discussed it.

Every tabloid had your names plastered across the front page.

LOVE CAN’T WAIT? MICHAEL JACKSON GOES VIRAL FOR SERENADING HIS WIFE DURING HEAVEN CAN WAIT

MICHAEL JACKSON FORGETS ENTIRE STADIUM EXISTS WHILE SINGING TO WIFE

THE MOST ROMANTIC PERFORMANCE OF MICHAEL JACKSON’S CAREER?

Even worse

The clips were everywhere.

Slow-motion edits of Michael smiling at you.

Close-ups of him mouthing I love you.

Fans online losing their minds over the way his voice softened every time he looked at you during Heaven Can Wait.

One entertainment reporter dramatically placed a hand over her chest while footage played behind her.

“I mean, look at this man,” she laughed. “He was fighting for his life up there.”

Another radio host joked: “I don’t know about y’all, but we were interrupting married people business.”

Michael, seated across from you at the kitchen table in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, nearly choked on his tea laughing.

You pointed accusingly at the television.

“This is your fault.”

“My fault?” he repeated innocently.

“Yes, your fault! You were staring at me the entire concert!”

Michael bit back a smile behind his cup.

“You’re my wife.”

Like that explained everything.

Honestly, to him, it probably did.

---------------

The interviewer smiled knowingly as Michael sat curled slightly into himself on the couch, already looking shy before the question had even been asked.

“So,” she started carefully, “the internet has spent the last twenty-four hours talking about your performance of Heaven Can Wait.”

The audience immediately cheered.

Michael laughed softly, lowering his head.

“I mean,” the interviewer continued with a grin, “you spent almost the entire song looking directly at your wife.”

The crowd screamed louder.

Michael rubbed beneath his nose shyly while smiling to himself.

“And fans are convinced,” she added dramatically, “that somewhere in the middle of that performance, Heaven Can Wait stopped being a concert song and became a love letter.”

Michael laughed quietly again, visibly embarrassed by the audience’s reaction.

But he still smiled.

That soft, hopelessly in-love smile.

Then he glanced down for a moment before speaking.

“When you love somebody that much…” he started softly, “…every love song starts sounding like them.”

The audience immediately erupted.

Michael only laughed shyly, ducking his head before continuing.

“It’s hard not to think about her,” he admitted quietly. “Even when I’m onstage.”

The crowd practically melted.

“She’s…” Michael paused, smiling to himself. “She’s my favorite person. So when I sing songs like Heaven Can Wait…” he laughed softly, “…I guess everybody can tell who I’m thinking about.”

The audience screamed again.

The interviewer placed a hand over her heart dramatically.

“Oh, that is amazing,” she said through laughter.

Michael just smiled.

Small.

Warm.

Completely gone.

“So you were singing to her?” the interviewer teased.

Michael looked up this time, eyes softening instantly.

“I always am.”

The audience absolutely lost their minds.

“And after all these years,” the interviewer continued, still recovering, “you’re still this in love with your wife?”

Michael looked genuinely confused by the question.

“Of course,” he answered simply.

The room quieted slightly at how sincere he sounded.

Michael smiled again, softer this time.

“I married her because I loved her,” he said. “That didn’t stop after the wedding

The audience started screaming again while Michael covered his face shyly.

But even then

He was still smiling.

“Oh my God,” she laughed. “So you admit it?”

Michael looked up finally, smiling shyly.

“I married her,” he said simply. “Of course I’m still in love with her, and of course I'm gonna sing to her.”

The audience somehow screamed even louder.

And somewhere at home, watching the interview replay on television, you nearly threw a pillow at the screen while Michael laughed beside you from the couch.

taglist: @simply-lovley44 @cocomilaa

Another Michael fic I couldn't help myself

OCTOBER 1895

Michael sat under the tree at Neverland Ranch, writing as he watched his two children play. It was getting cooler in California. The twins were in his care for today since you would be at court for most of the day. He couldn't help but smile as the twins played together. He liked writing when he was with his wife, who inspired his songs. Now that he has children in his life to raise. It gave him even more inspiration.

"Cameron, you can't do that! It's not fair." Marcus said. Cameron stuck out his tongue before he blew raspberries at him. Marcus tilted his head before he ran at him, causing Cameron to scream and run.

"Boys, remember to stay close to me," Michael yelled out.

Michael shook his head before he tilted his head back against the bark. He wanted to do something for the twins since their birthday is coming up. Sure, he doesn't celebrate birthdays himself. But it was their first one with you and Michael since adopting them. He wanted it to be special for them. He snapped out his thoughts as he heard a cry. He jumped up quickly as he beelined to the twins.

Cameron and Marcus were holding heads. Cameron was full-blown crying as Marcus kept saying "ochie." Michael crouched down to their level.

"What happened?" Michael asked softly.

"We made an ochie with our heads," Marcus said as tears slightly brimmed in his eyes.

"Oh? You two hit each other's heads." Michael hummed.

He didn't expect the next event to transpire as Cameron sniffled before a look of anger crossed his face. He jumped on top of Marcus in retaliation. "His fault," Cameron screamed. Michael was shocked to say the least. The less reactive twin was on top of his brother, trying to fight him. He blinked, then remembered he had to be a parent in this.

"Cameron, stop right now." Michael wrapped his hands around Cameron's small body to pull him off.

Michael struggled a bit as Cameron tried to wiggle his way out of his hold. But he was fully able to gain control as he sat cross-legged and forced Cameron into his lap. He turned Cameron towards him.

"We don't do that." Michael's voice dropped low. "No matter how angry we are. We don't put our hands on people."

Cameron nodded his head slowly. He tried to avoid Michael's intense gaze. He had never seen Michael like this before. He's used to the carefree, bubbly version of Michael.

"Marcus, are you okay?" Michael asked the child who was still on the ground.

"Yes." Marcus nodded his head.

"Come here." Michael pulled Marcus into his lap as well. "I want you two to remember to love each other, not fight."

Michael watched as they both nodded their heads at his words. "Cameron, you apologize to your brother."

Cameron raised his head at Michael's words. All he got in return was Michael raising an eyebrow. Cameron let out a quiet breath.

"I'm sorry for making an ochie." Cameron looked at his brother.

"It's okay, bru bru." Marcus smiled at home in return. Marcus grabbed Cameron's hand as he hugged him.

Michael smiled at the interaction. Michael rubbed both of their backs. He heard someone clear their throat.

"Michael, you have a call." Bill walked towards them. "It's from Quincy."

"Is it important?" Michael looked up at Bill.

"He said he had some ideas he wanted you to hear," Bill said.

Michael dropped his head as he sighed. He shifted the twins as he stood up, wrapping their legs around his waist.

Once he made his way inside, he dropped Marcus and Cameron on the couch before he went to pick up the telephone. "Hello, Quincy." Michael picked up the phone and placed it on the side table as he sat on the couch. Both twins scrambled back into his lap and settled in.

"Hey, I just had a breakthrough," Quincy said. "I'm going to need you to come to the studio in LA."

"I don't know if I can, I'm spending time with the twins today." Michael looked down as Marcus played with a button on his shirt.

"Oh, you can bring them; it doesn't matter."

Michael bit his lip at the thought. He looked as both twins looked at him with wide eyes. He brought the receiver down between his neck and shoulder as he cooed at them. He started to tickle them both. Cute giggles filled the air as a response.

"Michael?" Quincy said. "Michael."

"Yes?" Michael put the phone back to his ear. "I'll be there in 2 hours."

Michael hung up and then looked at the twins. "Guess you're coming with me."

"I'll go get the car." Bill accounted, and Michael nodded.

"You two are going to see how I work." Michael hummed as he bumped both of their noses.

Michael tried to feed the twins a snack before they left, but that didn't work out as planned.

"No, Cameron, share it with him."

"Marcus, don't do that."

"But he started it!"

"Oh goodness."

Michael carried both twins as Bill opened the door. He made his way to the studio, where sound engineers and co-producers greeted him. He put the twins down as he greeted Quincy.

"What do you have for me?" Michael questioned as he looked around the room.

"You know, Michael, we've been laying down demos for this album, but we never truly talked about what you want from this." Quincy sat down in the chair.

Michael tilted his head. "I want something that can sell bigger than Thriller."

Quincy raised one eyebrow. "Bigger than Thriller?"

"Yes, bigger than Thriller. I want to expand myself." Michael said. "I want to put out new sounds in the industry."

Michael had a plan for this new album. In contrast, he didn't have a working name for it. He wanted a new era for himself, a new sound. He knew what he wanted and how he wanted it to be done. Luckily, he had a great team and strong chemistry to get things done.

Bigger than Thriller?" I think I got the thing just for that." Quincy said.

"Yeah?" Michael responded.

"Music technology is booming nowadays, man." Quincy twirled a pencil. "And a new sound could come from that."

Michael listened intently as Quincy explained that he and some other sound engineers. As they explained the Synclavier system to him and how they could incorporate it. They showed him samples as they started to explain different baselines for the experiment. He felt a hand land on his thigh. He looked down and saw Marcus looking up at him. He heard a muttered 'I couldn't contain them' as Bill could entertain them for as long as he could.

Michael knew that Marcus wanted only one thing. He picked him up and placed him on his lap. Cameron followed suit after. They always want to sit with him like this. He is not complaining, but they have taken every opportunity to do it. He tried to listen after that, but the twins just kept distracting him. It was either them trying to touch things or babbling baby noises as they tried to talk to him.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Michael said sheepishly. "Marcus, stop touching that."

"It's completely alright." Quincy laughed. "They're cute kids."

Michael was finally able to calm them down, as the only thing that would. Is Michael sticking his hands out so the twins can play with them.

"I like the samples; they can sound great in the album." Michael nodded his head as he listened.

They spent the next few hours talking about the album. Michael beatboxed to show what he wanted the layering to sound like. And they have made some progress. Michael wanted to take his time with this. Some studio days were meeting things coming to him while doing other things. The night ended with multiple sticky notes on the wall listing possible song names. But a particular note in the middle, circled, is 100 million.

"That's how much I want to sell with this album." He said as he stuck to the wall. "I don't want to forget that."

Michael thanked everybody for a successful session. The twins knocked out a while ago because they got bored with Michael's hands. Bill took Cameron as Michael held onto Marcus.

"You need to bring them to the studio more often," Quincy admitted. "They gave you some juice."

"Maybe I do, maybe I do." Michael laughed as they walked out the door.

NOVEMBER 11th 1985

Michael stood in the children's bedroom on their birthday with his wife. "Guess who's turning four today!" She said loudly as she walked into the twins' room, followed by high-pitched giggles as they woke up.

"Come here." She picked up Cameron to kiss his face.

Michael followed suit as he picked up Marcus and nuzzled his forehead against his. Michael laughed when Marcus placed his hands on Michael's cheeks.

"We have such a great day planned for you two." His wife said she rocked Cameron back and forth. "I have the cutest outfits too."

She walked out of the bedroom to the bathroom. She and Michael stood side by side as they tried to get the twins ready.

"No, Marcus, like this." His wife tried to guide Marcus to brush his teeth correctly. They both had been trying to teach them, more Marcus than Cameron.

He snapped out his thoughts as his wife gasped as she hurried to put a towel under Marcus's mouth. To prevent him from getting spit on his clothes.

"You still did a good job." His wife said as she led him out of the bathroom.

She and Michael went through their usual routine before this grand day started. Michael hoped this day would go well; he didn't want anything to go wrong. Michael planned this birthday party down to the last detail. He couldn't go anything less than fantastic.

The usual fantastical element of Neverland was more of a carousel theme. He noticed months ago that both twins had a fascination with circuses. It was something that the whole family could enjoy. The property was much livelier, with both of your families there to celebrate. Neither of you has had your family like this since your wedding.

Michael sat Cameron and Marcus down as their cousins surrounded them. He smiled as they dragged them off to play games.

"Michael, you outdid yourself with this one." His wife wrapped an arm around his waist. Dropping her head on his shoulder.

"Well, it's their first birthday with us," Michael said. "It had to be special."

The birthday party went smoothly. Michael sat next to the twins as they opened gifts. Family gathered around them as the twins ravaged through packages. Michael helped when they couldn't get something open with their strength.

"Now what do we say when we get a gift?" Michael reminded them.

"Thank you!" The twins said it at the same time, giggling. The audience cooed at their reactions.

Michael handed the last gift to the twins. "Open it."

The twins opened it together, and then they opened the small box. It had gold-plated necklaces with their names on them. They both looked up at Michael.

"A small gift from us to you." Michael had to hold himself steady when both twins gave him a big hug.

"Thank you, daddy." They both said 'normally,' but Michael was stunned.

This was the first time they had called him that. It was either his name or a nickname. He knew he probably had a shocked look, so he tried to school his expression. "Want to put it on?" Michael cleared his throat as he felt it close up.

Michael clasped the necklaces around their neck. He looked over and saw that his wife was tearing up. "Damn these allergies." She grabbed a napkin to dry her eyes.

"Mommy, don't cry." The twins said. His wife let out a wail at their words. Both went over to wrap their arms around her. She returned the hug as she hiccuped.

"You two are so sweet." She clutched their faces.

This moment was a great breakthrough for both parents. As the twins finally became comfortable enough to see them as their parental figures, they called them mom and dad. Compared to months ago, when they first brought them home. They were comfortable with them, sure. But there was still a disconnect. The twins slowly felt more comfortable as they learned that this would be their permanent home, not a temporary one, which allowed them to feel at ease in their presence and in orbit with their world.

Michael watched as his wife helped the twins cut the birthday cake. She stood over them as she guided them through using sweet words.

"I want a big piece!" Marcus said with excitement.

"Oh no, that's too big." She was quick to take the slice as Marcus cut a slice that was as big as his head.

"How about this?" His wife cut a smaller piece.

A sigh came out of his. "Fine."

"Michael, can you get more plates so I can place slices on them?" His wife spoke to him.

"Sure."

Michael walked back to the house and entered the large kitchen. He hummed to himself. But stopped as soon as he felt a presence. He turned to Joseph, standing there in his kitchen.

"You keep dodging me," Joseph said in the quiet kitchen. "You've been dodging me since you quit the tour."

His relationship with his father is strained because of all he did, but it feels even more intense now that he has fully gained his independence and quit the tour. Joseph keeps finding ways to dangle that decision he made months ago over his head.

"Please not now, especially on this day." The last thing he wanted was his good mood to perish on his twin's birthday.

"You're doing well playing a family man in this nice house," Joseph said sarcastically. "Especially with that woman who pushed you away from your family."

Joseph did not like his wife. It doesn't matter that the rest of the family liked her. He believed she filled his head with ideas that ended the Jacksons. Joseph doesn't believe Michael increased his yearning for more freedom in his career or personal life on his own; instead, he believes it was his wife's doing.

"That woman is my wife, whether you like it or not." Michael leaned back as he clutched the counter behind him. "You will respect her."

Joseph let out a sharp laugh that made Michael's heart fasten. "Keep playing house." With that, Joseph went out the back door of the kitchen but turned to say one last word. "We will see how long that lasts."

Michael sucked in a breath as he felt air become thin around him. He hated that Joseph could still make him feel like that little boy with no power. He hated that he still had control over him. His chest quickens as he clutches the counter harder. Michael realizes he's about to have a panic attack.

"Michael." He heard his wife yell, but he slid down against the cabinet as he held his chest.

NOVEMBER 11th 1985. 5PM

"Now what is he doing?" You said as you put down the knife to look around. With a sigh, you wiped your hands clean of buttercream on a towel. You picked up the knife and handed it to Latoya to cut the cake as you looked for Michael.

You walked up the back path to the kitchen, but then you ran into Joseph. You stepped back as your eyes widened before they narrowed.

"Hello." You spoke. "Did you see Michael?"

Joseph looked you up and down. "Yeah, in the kitchen."

You raised an eyebrow at him. You know Joseph doesn't like you. He couldn't stand that you became the person standing between him and the money.

"Joseph, what did you do?" You asked, your voice taking on a defensive tone.

He stared at you before opening his mouth, completely ignoring your question. "I hope you know I don't like you."

You scoffed at the statement. "The feeling is mutual."

You decided not to give him any more of your time as you went around him to the inside of the kitchen. Your heart dropped at the sight of Michael leaning back against the cabinets as he struggled to breathe.

"Baby." You quickly crouched down. You took his hand to put it against your chest. "Follow my breathing."

Michael struggled as he caught his breath, trying to listen to yours. You eventually got him to calm down. You moved to sit next to him against the cabinets. You tried to look in his eyes as he avoided your gaze. You two sat in silence, the only sound your shallow breaths, mixed with Michael's deeper ones.

"I hate having panic attacks." Michael broke the air. "I hate him for what he did to me." His voice broke off at the end.

All you could do was sit there to let him know you were there to comfort him. You tried not to touch him, as he told you a long time ago that he hates touching when he gets like this. It's overstimulating to him. You listened to him instead, and he let it all out.

"I'm 27 years old, and all I could do was cower under him. I hate it." Michael leaned his head back against the cabinet. His shoulders shook lightly as he let out a bitter laugh.

"You must see me as weak." Michael finally looked at you, his eyes dulled.

A completely different Michael was in front of you. Not the one who woke up with you and kissed you sweetly this morning. The happy one who played carnival games with you and the twins. It was the one who was affected by his father, his environment, and the media, and was weighed down by his fame. Not many other people besides you saw it.

"I will never see you as weak, Michael." You put your hand to your heart. "Never."

"You're the strongest person I know." Michael scoffed at your words. "No, listen, you are. You are strong."

You smiled slightly as his eyes searched your face. "I can't escape him, not even on my children's birthday." Michael retorted.

"Fuck him." You suddenly said as Michael widened his eyes at your hard tone. "I'm sorry that sounded harsh."

"But he can't hold onto you anymore. You showed him that." You held out your hand as a sign of permission to touch him. He slowly slipped his hand into yours. "Now he's lashing out in any way that he can."

Michael stared at you. "You always know what to say." Michael booped your nose.

"I know, that's why I'm an attorney," You flipped your hair over your shoulder to lighten the mood.

Michael's eyes crinkled at your antics as he let out a laugh. "Girl, you are a trip."

You smiled, hearing his laugh. You loved that the little sparkle was returning to his eyes. "I love you so much."

He squeezed your head. "I love you too."

"Now let's get back before the twins convince one of your siblings to get more cake." You stood up with your hand out.

Michael stood up with you. "They wouldn't do that." He gasped

You both stared at each other before laughing, as they totally would do that. You two walked out of the kitchen hand in hand.

"Thank you." Michael kissed your head lightly.

especially when it comes to this industry: the kind that chews people up and spits them right on out without a damn, moving onto the next unsuspecting victim. you learned very quickly that softness was currency and vulnerability was leverage.

you had to be strong, untouchable, and unreachable.

so when michael set his eyes on you, it should've meant nothing.

it should've been easy to ignore him the way you ignore everyone else.

but it wasn't.

michael tried more than once to grab your attention at award shows. you never paid him any mind, er, tried not to. one the one or two occasions he managed to catch your gaze, he would lean close, voice all soft and warm, and sweet-talk your ear off like he had all the time in the world.

he told you how he found your voice to be so sexy. the way you preformed made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away from you: you enticed him.

michael laid it on thick. you on the other hand, hated how dangerously close it came to working.

to curve it, you would give him polite smiles, short replies, and arm's length and professional distance. nothing more.

at least, you told yourself that.

the first time you really spoke to him was backstage at an award show in New York City.

you stepped offstage, sweating with adrenaline buzzing under your skin. assistants and stage hands moved around quickly in blurs, while your stylist tugged at your hair and outfit.

then the room shifted.

you didn't need to look up to know how he entered. conversations slowed and attention shifted towards him. you just simply stared into your paper cup like it was telling you the best secret ever.

"congratulations," flowed from a voice beside you.

close. too close, like always.

you slowly turned, "thank you."

michael's eyes started into yours, seemingly memorizing every intricate detail of them. "you were incredible. you feel everything when you sing, most people don't let themselves feel the music."

you just shrugged, "it's my job."

"singing is your job. feeling the music, it's a choice." he smiled.

you hated how that landed, how he spoke to you like he saw right through the walls.

and then you learned that michael doesn't chase loudly. no flowers, no grand gifts, nothing in the public.

he was quiet and patient. persistent in ways that slipped past your defenses before you noticed they were under attack.

he'd compliment you in passing, or wave to you across a crowded room. one time, a note was delievered through an assistant that said:

you looked tired today. i hope you're sleeping.

it infuriated you. only because it didn't feel like a performance being put on just so he could damage you in the end, it felt real.

and that was dangerous.

months passed. near encounters and almost conversations that never really took off. until one night.

a private industry-exclusive part was happening in Los Angeles. the kind of party where reputations could be built and destroyed in a single whisper.

you were currently engaged in a conversation with a well-known actor who leaned close and laughed too loudly at everything you said. you could see through him immediately but stayed polite.

you can handle it, you always could.

but someone else couldn't.

the actor in front of you started to drift away, you could see his eyes look behind you. you'd thought he'd seen a ghost. you didn't need to turn to see who it was.

the actor excused himself, walking away before you could respond. you turned around slowly to come face-to-face with michael.

michael stood there, his jaw tight behind the dark aviators. you could practically see the tension coming off his shoulders.

"you looked busy," he said.

"you were watching, why?" you asked.

"i always watch you." he said, firm. the words ran from his mouth before he could call a timeout.

"that sounds obsessive," you teased.

"it is." honest and unfiltered.

he stepped closer. "i don't like the way they look at you, like they're entitled to you. something they can just have.

you folded your arms. "i can take care of myself." instinct and armor.

"i know you can," he said. "that ain't the point."

"what's the point?"

his voice dropped an octave, seemingly impossible as it already is deep. "you don't let anyone take care of you."

that wall. the one guarding your heart, he dared to touch it.

"why does it matter to you?" you whispered.

he hesitated for a moment. "i want to be the one you trust enough to let in."

your chest tightened. "you don't even know me."

"i know the version the world sees," he said. "and i know there is more. i see it every time you think no one is watching."

those defenses cracked a little, you could hear it.

"everyone leaves." you mumbled the rest of your words, "everyone disappoints so it's easier not to need anyone."

he stepped closer until the distance between you was a whisper of air.

"i'm not asking for you to need me," he softly stated. "i'm asking you to give me a chance to stay."

his fingers brushed yours, slowly as if to not startle you, giving you time to pull away.

you didn't. you couldn't.

"you have need to be strong all the time," he whispered, looking into your eyes deeply.

and something inside of you broke.

your hand tightened around his, "i don't know how to do this."

his smile was soft and relieved. "we'll figure it out together."

the next night, you were being picked up by him.

no bodyguard, no entourage. just michael in a baseball cap and dark sunglasses with a large jacket. he was leaning against a black car you couldn't see the brand of like he wasn't the most recognizable man on earth.

"a disguise?" i teased with a slight smile.

"undercover," he corrected, opening the passenger door for you.

he drove you both to a recording studio. it appeared empty save for one car that read, 'security' on the side.

once you both made it inside and into the seclusion of a mid-size studio in the back of the building, you turned and asked, "why here?"

"this is where i'm honest," he said quietly. you could see his shoulders relax. this wasn't michael the mega-famous icon.

this was just michael.

"sing something," he broke through the silence.

"no."

"why?"

"you didn't bring me here for an auditon."

"i brought you here because i want to hear you when you're not performing for anyone."

"one verse." and with that, you opened the door to the booth and stepped in. placing the headphones over your ears, you begin to sing a simple verse of one of your songs. softly.

when you were finished, you stepped out the both and looked at michael. he looked back at you, the silence loud.

"that," he said, stepping closer to you. "is what i've been looking to get close to."

"what?'

"you." the word landed hard, cracking the your wall a little more.

you took a tiny step back, thrown off by it. "you're intense."

"i know you're scared. i am too," he said.

"so why are you willing to risk it?"

he voice became steady and darker, "once i decide something is mine, i don't let it go."

your breath caught, but you replied: "i'm not yours."

"i don't share attention," he didn't reply to you, just ignored you and kept speaking. "i don't share what matters to me. and you matter to me."

every instinct that screamed at you to step back, to repair those cracks already there. you leaned closer. the smallest movement but he noticed it. of course, he notices everything. "you don't have to run from me."

he leaned in closer to you, "i'll chase you if you do."

that had your heart stuttering. all this and he hadn't even touched you beyond holding your hand. the words were enough to have you breathing deeply and thinking hard. for the first time, the walls didn't feel like they were protecting you.

it felt like they were holding you back. and you weren't so sure you wanted them anymore.

Leon has seen you around the DSO building a few times when he's not in the field. You're always at your computer, typing rapidly away before having to sprint from one place to another. Your nose is always glued to some kind of screen—whether it's your computer or tablet, you hardly look up from your work unless you have to. Leon knows who you are because you ran into him one time when you were a new hire.

God, you were a stuttering, flustered mess, apologizing and rambling about being in a rush to get to the other side of the building because someone's training you to configure, test, and install telecommunications systems for the division. Of course, Leon reassured you that you're all fine and don't have to apologize for running into him, despite it being an awkward way of meeting a coworker. After that, you quickly bow out of respect before proceeding with what you were doing earlier—run to where you're needed, leaving him standing in the middle of the hallway, watching your figure get smaller and smaller as the distance between you two grows.

Since the introduction, Leon has not seen you around much due to being an on-field agent and you working (and running around) as a telecommunications specialist. Funny how the awkward introduction would replay in his head from time to time, making him wonder if you're adjusting to your new job just fine since then.

While the introduction was endearing to Leon, it's one of your top five horrifyingly embarrassing moments that plays in your head at three in the morning when you're struggling to fall asleep. You, a newly hired telecommunications specialist for the DSO, ran right into Leon S. Kennedy, a DSO agent, a very elusive and highly respected person. It's almost rare to see him around the building because he's always deployed somewhere around the country (or a foreign country) for a mission.

Maybe it's a good thing you don't see Leon around the DSO building much, because you cannot bear seeing him after running into him. It wasn't a cutesy bump where you two can laugh it off and form a work friendship over. No! You were sprinting to where you're needed and then BOOM! You ran right into an incredibly solid figure that sent you stumbling back and landing on your ass in a full office, papers flying everywhere, and your head spinning.

You remember how hot your face felt when you came to your senses. A tall figure towering over you, gazing down at you with those crystal blue eyes—eyes filled with amusement and curiosity. A flurry of apologies tumbling out of your mouth as you scramble to collect the scattered papers around you. While you were busy making yourself a bigger fool, this hulking DSO agent knelt beside you and helped gather the papers with you.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Kennedy! I was in a rush, and I wasn't watching where I was going and—"

Leon cuts you off. "It's alright. You don't need to apologize."

You looked up from the stacks of paper in your hands, making eye contact with the DSO agent. He had a small smile on his face. God, his smile was so soft. You continued staring at Leon, blindly reaching around you for the papers. That very moment is when you felt your heart do this weird flip before beating rapidly. Your smartwatch buzzed, pulling you out of your trance.

"WARNING: HIGH HEART RATE. Your heart rate increased above 120 BPM while you—"

You quickly swiped the notification away before continuing where you left off: apologizing to Leon for running (more like slamming) into him. Leon handed you the papers you dropped. You thanked him before bowing to him, only to abruptly stop and do a double-take, smacking your forehead. Why did you bow to him?

"I should go now." You sighed in defeat, turning around and running off with your tail tucked between your legs.

After the accidental interaction, you try your best to avoid Leon. As if that would be hard, since the man is barely in the building unless he returns from his mission. But when he is on site, you're at your computer doing your work, so engrossed in your task to realize he's in the same building.

Oftentimes, you see Leon with Sherry Birkin, one of your close friends at work. And when you do spot the two together around the DSO building or in the break room, chatting and having lunch together, you make sure to turn around and go to another break room.

How can you face thee Leon S. Kennedy after that day? It's humiliating, and you can't look or think of Leon without becoming an absolute mess. Plus, Leon is incredibly attractive, and running into someone as handsome as Leon might as well send you to an early grave.

"Hey! I saw you walk to the break room, but immediately turned around and left. Are you alright?" Sherry asks, approaching your desk with a cup of water in her hand.

Fuck.

You nod, smiling at Sherry. "Of course I'm fine, Sherry! I completely forgot that I left my lunch bag in the other break room until I arrived at the one where you were."

That's a lie. Sometimes you do bring in a lunch bag with you to work, but most of the time, you go somewhere nearby for lunch. But today is the day you brought in a lunch bag and stored it in the break room where Leon and Sherry were. Needless to say, you had to order something to eat because you didn't have the guts to return to get your home-cooked lunch. Well, at least you know what you'll be having for dinner tonight when you get home from work.

"Well, I hope you can join Leon and me during our break next time! If you want to, of course."

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. You don't know how to respond to her offer. You can't reject her invitation! It would be rude, and Sherry might suspect that you're avoiding any interaction with both her and Leon (it's half true). You choose not to accept or reject Sherry's invitation, leaving the offer open.

After that interaction, the day goes smoothly, and you're able to collect communication data from the electronic surveillance monitoring equipment and download it onto various computer systems for analysis. That was on the floor above you, so you had to go back and forth frequently. Which means, you sometimes see Leon when you're going from floor to floor.

"They're really having you run around this building, huh?" Leon murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the wall in the elevator.

Yep. You are in the elevator with Leon, and no one else is in the elevator but you two. You're going one floor above, it's not like you'll be stuck in the elevator with him, right?

You nod. "It's part of the job. But I can't complain, this counts as my exercise for the day because I'm always sitting at my desk."

What kind of response is that? You kick yourself mentally. You hear a soft chuckle coming from Leon, making you look at him from the corner of your eyes. The way the crow's feet become prominent whenever he smiles causes something to stir within you.

You can't help but stare at him while he's looking straight at the elevator door. Usually, whenever you see Leon around the DSO building (while trying not to be seen by him), he would wear a leather jacket that has a shearling collar, but today is different. Today, he's wearing a very fitted top, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the zipper of his shirt is unzipped halfway.

Those arms of his. God, those arms of his make you feel some type of way. You subconsciously bite the bottom of your lip before looking at the ground. Your heart does the weird thing again. It flutters, making your breath get caught in your throat before letting out a shaky sigh.

Leon takes his eyes off the elevator door, now looking at you. "Are you alright?"

You nod, not looking at Leon. "Yes, I'm fine, Mr. Kennedy." Your response comes out weak, almost too quiet to hear if the elevator music was any louder (it's not, it's actually pretty quiet that you can hear your heart pounding in your ears).

You take a peek at Leon, only to lock eyes with him. You quickly look away, brushing away an invisible hair from your face while trying to act like you weren't looking at him. Why is the elevator so slow? Just as you're about to pull the classic move of checking your watch to see what time it is, your smartwatch buzzes before loudly announcing:

"WARNING: HIGH HEART RATE. Your heart rate increased above 120 BPM while—"

You quickly swipe the notification away, heat rushing to your cheeks while your heart is drumming against your chest. Oh, god, this is so embarrassing. Why did it announce to the world to hear it!?

Before you can die from embarrassment, the elevator chimes, signaling for you that you've arrived on the floor where you're needed. You nearly cry in relief, quickly bidding Leon goodbye before scrambling out of the elevator without giving him the chance to respond.

You're adding that moment to another embarrassing moment that will forever replay in your head before you fall asleep. It's inevitable. At this point, maybe it's best for you to just work for another government agency to escape these embarrassing moments that keep happening to you for some reason.

A few days go by, and you finally have the courage to confide in your friend about your smartwatch embarrassing you whenever Leon's around. You're sitting on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest while you stab your ice cream tub with the metal spoon.

Laila chuckles, shaking her head. "That's what you're embarrassed about? Your smartwatch telling you that your heart beats fast whenever a fine ass man is near you?"

"You think it's funny because you're not the one in my situation." You grumble, glaring at Laila while still jabbing your ice cream. "How can I not be embarrassed? Imagine your smartwatch outing you for feeling nervous around someone like thee Leon S. Kennedy. My coworker!"

Laila makes a face after hearing that. Can you blame her? It's one thing to have a crush on someone, but a coworker? A workplace relationship isn't going to end well, and you're certain that—with your luck—it's not going to work out for you. Nothing ever does!

Laila leans over and flicks your forehead, making you wince and grumble while rubbing the stinging spot. "It's all in your head, [Y/N]. Just because you think about these embarrassing moments doesn't mean that Leon is going to do the same. Besides, do you remember other people's humiliating moments?"

You shake your head.

"Exactly! So, you have nothing to worry about, really. It may be another memory that haunts you in the middle of the night, but I'm sure Leon forgot that ever happened as his day goes by."

A few weeks have gone by, and you find yourself typing away at your computer, trying to complete as many assignments as you can before having to go to the upper floor. You've been so occupied with the tasks that you fail to notice a certain DSO agent walking towards your cubicle, eyeing the little decoration around your cubicle that's obscured by the mountain of files on your desk.

Leon clears his throat, trying to get your attention. But you don't look away from your computer, still typing away on one screen before turning to the second monitor, muttering something under your breath.

"What am I looking at?" You grumble, squinting and leaning towards the monitor.

"Being that close to the monitor isn't good for your eyes, you know." Leon comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

You jerk in your seat, head snapping towards his direction before looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. Your reaction brought a smile to his face. You clear your throat, quickly fixing your composure before smiling at him awkwardly.

"Mr. Kennedy! Is there something I can help you with?" You ask, adjusting the sleeves of your blazer.

"The head of the department is requesting your presence and assistance on the upper floor. Something about electronic surveillance not working the way it should be."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing. How many times has this happened within a week? It's not like you can complain, unfortunately. It's what you're trained to do, and what you applied for.

You clear your throat, getting up from your seat after locking your computer. "Are you leading the way, or are you here to fetch me before going elsewhere?"

"I will be leading the way and watching the professional in action."

You can't tell if he's being serious or mocking you, but either way, the thought of someone like Leon watching you do your task makes your heart skip a beat. You better not fuck up anything while he's in the same room. You can't have another embarrassing moment added to the growing list.

With that, you gesture for Leon to lead the way. As you're walking to the elevator—the same elevator where your smartwatch decides to announce to the entire world that your heart rate has increased—you can't help but ponder whether Leon knows your name, or if he refers to you by your job title.

You nearly cry in relief when you realize that both you and Leon aren't the only ones in the elevator this time. Maybe this will ease your mind a bit. It's not like you don't want to be alone with Leon; it's the fact that you don't want the same incident repeated. You and Leon step into the elevator, greeting other people in the elevator.

You pull up your tablet, switching from lists of progress requests to detailed records of existing configurations of data circuits. You're reading everything on the screen, but at the same time, you're not processing a single thing. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue before tucking the tablet under your arm.

The elevator chimes, alerting you and everyone else that you have arrived on the floor you're needed in. You and Leon exit the elevator and walk to the office that's two doors down on the right. For a medium-sized office, it's rather quiet compared to where you're stationed.

You briefly greet the head of the department before starting your task of fixing the issues. There's literally no time to lose, or else that means way more paperwork and workload for you to deal with. About five minutes into searching for the problem, you're able to find it and gradually fix the errors.

"Are the senior technicians not here today? This feels a bit out of the ordinary, at least for someone still new to the agency. I'm usually working under the guidance of the senior techs." You mutter, eyes darting from one screen to another while your fingers are rapidly typing away.

"Zhao is currently needed in another department. You can view this as a test to see how you perform without the guidance of a technician. Zhao said he's confident that you can do the task without needing his guidance." Mrs. Lee replies, watching you like a hawk.

You nod, muttering to yourself while checking to see if there are any security issues while the systems are down. Thankfully, there's none that you know of. After what felt like an eternity, you manage to fix the issue before turning to where your attention is needed.

"Systems are back up and running. You shouldn't have any issues after that. If you do end up running into any issues, please find me immediately, and I'll get it back up and running and double-check the security measures to make sure there aren't any security breaches." You get up from the chair and rub the back of your neck.

"And they don't have you working in strict environments with those skills of yours? If I remember correctly—I could be wrong—working in resource-limited locations is one of the major duties for a telecommunications specialist, is it not?" Leon comments, his eyebrows furrowing.

You shrug. "I believe they're going to start having me do that soon. I don't know when, but it's all up to Zhao. For now, I'm on site at the DSO building performing my tasks and being trained on many other things."

Leon nods, the creases between his eyebrows gradually smoothing over. "That's impressive. You're doing well, and I'm impressed by the skills you have shown us today, and your ability to quickly pinpoint and fix the issues without the guidance of a senior technician."

Hearing and getting a compliment from Leon makes you feel some type of way. It's like a mix of pride and shyness. Pride because someone with years of experience under his belt is complimenting you, someone with less than a year of experience. Shyness because, well, it's Leon. The small smile of his, the crow's feet in the outer corner of his eyes, became visible when he smiles.

Would it be weird to call a grown-ass man, who's almost twice your age, cute? Apparently, it's weird to consider one cute. It's not like anyone else is going to know that you find the DSO agent cute, nor will they know about your little crush on him. Right? God, you're so fucked.

"Thank you, Mr. Kennedy, it means a lot coming from you," You reply. You can feel heat creeping up your cheeks the longer you and Leon look at each other, not saying anything after. "I believe my job here is done. I will return to my desk now."

You bid Mrs. Lee and Leon farewell before making your way towards the door. Just when you thought you were safe from humiliation, the minute you pass Leon, is when your smartwatch decides it's the perfect time to announce to everyone in the room about your heart rate.

"WARNING: HIGH HEART RATE. Your heart rate increased above 120 BPM—"

Of course, you immediately swipe the notification away frantically. You unsuccessfully swipe the notification away and opt to silence your watch. You quickly look back and apologize for the disruption before closing the office door behind you. Great, first it's Leon, and now it's your other coworkers who will remember this embarrassing moment for who knows how long. Does the DSO have a gadget that wipes memories by chance?

You collapse on your office chair, grumbling about what happened prior. After you typed in your password to unlock your computer, you realize something. You left your tablet on the desk in the office you just returned from. This happened all because you were too busy thinking about Leon and being shy after being complimented by him, and needing to return to your cubicle immediately after your smartwatch humiliated you (again) in front of Leon and your other coworkers.

Great! It's almost like every time something good (or something remotely positive) happens to you, your smartwatch needs to humble you in some kind of way. You bury your face in your hands, sighing. There's no way you can go back and retrieve your tablet. But you need it for work! But what if Leon is still there, talking to Mrs. Lee, and they brought up the smartwatch notification? What if your other coworkers bring it up while you're trying to get your tablet?

Your mind is a war zone, and you're just standing there, dissociating while chaos runs rampant. There's probably a grenade being launched at you right now, but you're too busy in that head of yours.

"Hey, you!" Sherry pops in front of your desk, successfully pulling you out of your inner turmoil. "Heard great things about you from Leon and Mrs. Lee."

Your heart skips a beat when Leon is mentioned. "Like what?" You try your best to act nonchalant, but you're not nonchalant; you could never be nonchalant.

"That you're cool when you're focusing on fixing the issues, you type incredibly fast. Not a single mistake, and you got the systems back up and running without the presence or guidance of the senior technician, according to Leon!" Sherry grins. "Oh! And in case I forget, here is your tablet."

You sigh in relief, leaning over to grab your tablet from Sherry's hand over your cubicle. Thanks to Sherry, you won't have to humiliate yourself for the second time today! "Oh, my god, thank you so much, Sherry! I didn't even realize I forgot the most important thing until I made it back to my cubicle. I'm forever in your debt."

Sherry smiles coyly, "Actually," Sherry starts, quickly peeking over her shoulder before turning to you, "the person who wanted to return your tablet to you was Leon. But he couldn't do that because he had a meeting to go to and handed the tablet to me to return to the owner."

"Oh!" Is the only response you can give to Sherry.

Sherry continues to give you that look, but you can't describe it. It's the kind of look that your friend gives you when your crush is in the same room as the two of you. Almost teasing, if that makes sense. Wait, Sherry doesn't know about your little crush on Leon, does she?

You smile awkwardly at Sherry. "Why are you giving me that look?"

She shakes her head, the smile on her face growing wider. At this point, you're convinced that Sherry can read your mind or see through you despite being work friends. "You know, Leon isn't as intimidating as you think." She starts.

"Where are you going with this, Sherry?" You bury your face in your hands.

"Nothing! All I'm saying is that Leon is a good guy and the only thing that are intimidated by Leon are the zombies he buries his hatchet in!" Sherry giggles.

"Shit, he can bury his hatchet in me, too, like damn," is what you wanted to say, but you bite your tongue and continue to let Sherry ramble on about Leon. What is wrong with you? How does a man have this much effect on you? Where is the professionalism, and what happened to the "no falling in love with a coworker" rule you set for yourself?

"Anyway! What I'm trying to say is that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Leon, alright? You two should get some lunch together someday!" Sherry suggests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Your eyebrows furrow. "How am I going to do that when we barely talk to each other?"

Sherry giggles, fiddling with her hands while rocking back and forth.

"Sherry, what did you do?" You whisper, fearing for the worst.

"Nothing bad!" Sherry reassures you. She leans over your cubicle, hands cupping around her lips. "I may or may not have given Leon your phone number."

Suddenly, the tapping of keyboards, mild chattering in the office among coworkers, and office printers going off go silent. Did you hear Sherry correctly? Sherry Birkin, your work friend, gave Leon S. Kennedy your phone number?

"You what?"

"I hope you don't mind! I think you'll get along with Leon incredibly well, and I can sort of see you sometimes yearn to talk to Leon, but you're just shy…" She trails off after seeing the expression on your face.

You look at your monitor, moving your mouse so your monitor won't fall asleep. You gulp and turn to Sherry. "Did Leon ask for my number, or did you randomly give it to him? Also, what do you mean by you can sort of see me yearn to talk to Leon?"

Do you yearn to talk to Leon? Sort of, but you've humiliated yourself so many times in front of Leon that you question if it's even a good idea to talk to him. You may want to talk to him, but does he want to talk to you? That is the question. What's there to talk about when there are gaps in resumes, job and life experiences, and age?

"Well, not really, but—uh, are you alright?" Sherry asks, waving her hand in front of your face.

You nod. "Yeah, I'm fine! Don't worry about me, Sherry."

After a few exchanges, Sherry leaves your cubicle to return to her desk, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your watch buzzes. You check your watch to see multiple notifications from the heart rate app, notifying you about the same thing. It's a good thing you put your smartwatch on silent. Maybe you should keep it that way from now on.

"Why didn't I think about that earlier?" You smack your forehead before continuing on your work.

By the time it's time for you to clock out of work, you have completed most of your work that needs to be done by the end of the day. You yawn for the umpteenth time today, trying to shake off sleep that's creeping up on you. You make sure to save your progress and document what you need to get done when you return to your desk tomorrow morning.

You make a small checklist on your tablet, log off your computer, and turn it off. You grab your belongings and make way towards the elevator after bidding Sherry farewell. She's talking to Leon and Jake Muller—her boyfriend, you assume— so you bid the two goodbye, too tired to even realize what you did. You're so excited to finally go home and get some sleep.

By the time the elevator arrived, and it's your turn to get on, the hallway is nearly empty. You hop on the elevator, press the main floor button before turning to your tablet. God, you're so tired that you're not processing the words on your screen. The words are blurring into each other, making it incoherent.

You eventually give up and turn your tablet off, putting it in your tote bag. The elevator chimes, and you find yourself in the parking lot of the DSO building. As you're searching for your car keys, you hear someone calling for you from a distance. You look to see Leon jogging towards you.

"Mr. Kennedy, do you need something?" You ask.

Leon holds up a familiar keychain. "You left your car keys at your desk."

You stare at Leon, your mouth agape. You're a mess today, aren't you? "Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. Strange how I didn't even realize it, even with a lot of keychains attached to it."

Leon hands you your car keys before offering to help you take your things to your car. Obviously, you accepted his offer because you didn't want to be rude to reject his offer, and because your shoulders were starting to become sore because of how bulky your tote bag is.

At first, the walk to your car was silent, but Leon broke the silence by complimenting you on your problem-solving skills and your ability to get the servers up and running in no time.

"Have you considered being a field agent?" Leon asks, watching you unlock your car.

You shake your head. "Not really. I don't think I'm suited to be a field agent because it's a little bit intimidating. I've seen and heard the things you do as a DSO agent, and before that, and it's something I don't see myself doing."

"Have you ever shot a gun before?" Leon asks, putting your things on the passenger seat of your car.

You press your lips into a thin line. "Not necessarily…"

He raises his eyebrows at you. "You hesitated."

"No, I didn't."

"You did." The corner of his lips curls up into a smirk.

God, he's even prettier when he smiles. You shake your head, trying not to smile as you open the door on the driver's side and start your engine. You can't have a crush on your coworker, someone who's a father figure to Sherry.

"Why not try it out? Give it a shot," Leon shrugs, now leaning against your car with his beefy arms crossed over his chest.

Goddamn, he's so muscular. Those biceps are huge—wait, was that a one-liner? You raise an eyebrow at Leon. "That was lame."

"What? No, it's not. I think it was brilliant."

"Of course you think it's brilliant. You're the one who came up with it."

The two of you have a good laugh before eventually having to part ways. You and Leon bid each other goodbye after you thanked him for giving you your car keys and helping you put your things in your car. From the comfort of your car, you watch Leon walk to his car, which happens to be parked a few spaces from where you parked your car.

"Of course, he drives a nice car. I shouldn't be surprised at all."

You watch his car come to life and pull out of the parking spot, then leave the lot of the DSO building. You reverse your car, pull out of your parking spot, and slowly pull out of the site after making sure there aren't any oncoming vehicles. Finally, you can go home and relax. Anything work-related can wait for you to clock in tomorrow.

-

On his way to the DSO building, the interaction he had with you in the parking lot plays in his head. Leon couldn't help but think back to the time when your smartwatch would notify you of your heart rate. At first, Leon thought it was funny, as in a funny coincidence, but then he noticed that it would happen often, especially whenever he was around.

Again, Leon assumed it was a coincidence that it happened at least three times whenever he was around. But he brushed it off as you still being anxious about working for the DSO as a semi-new hire. What throws that assumption out of the window is your reaction to getting the notification. He can't help but feel concerned for you.

Does your heart rate do this regularly? Do you get notifications about your heart rate throughout the day? Are you an anxious person by nature? That can't be it, right? Whenever you're in your element at work, all of that anxiousness is gone, and you're focused on your work and get things done as soon as possible without rushing or caving in under the pressure.

A million questions pop up in Leon's head as he sets foot into the office, searching for someone who could have the answer to his burning questions. You. Unfortunately for Leon, he did not find you at your desk. Leon scans the room and sees Sherry typing away at her desk while conversing with the person sitting at another desk beside her.

Leon weaves through rows of cubicles to get to where Sherry's sitting, nodding and briefly greeting people who greet him as he passes by. As Leon gets closer to her desk, he calls out to Sherry. "Sherry, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Sherry looks up from her computer to see Leon nearing her desk, eyes still wandering around the area in search of something, or someone. She pushes herself away from the desk and stands, facing Leon, now that he's standing in front of her.

"Of course, Leon, what can I do for you?" Sherry leans against the desk, head tilting to the side.

Leon clears his throat, lowering his voice. "Do you know whether [Y/N] has a heart condition?" Leon continues to be on the lookout, earning an inquisitive look from the blonde woman.

Sherry's eyebrows furrow, slowly shaking her head in response to his question. "Heart condition? Not that I know of. I don't think she's mentioned it, why?"

Leon hums, nodding. Interesting. If you don't have a heart condition (going off on Sherry's response), then why did your smartwatch inform you that your heart rate was too high? At an odd time, as well. So, Leon then gives Sherry the rundown on why he's asking her these questions instead of you. Technically, he was going to ask you, but you're not at the DSO building currently.

After explaining the situation and his concerns to Sherry, she strokes her chin, nodding. "I see… you're worried that if she has a heart condition, it could get in the way of her work. Or that her job could affect her supposed heart condition. making it worse."

"Yes, that is correct, Sherry."

Before Sherry can respond, she peeks from Leon's shoulder and sees you entering the office with your tote bag, tablet, a stack of manila folders, and a coffee cup in your hands. Leon follows Sherry's gaze and quickly bids Sherry farewell before walking towards you.

Leon pauses when he sees you on the phone, speaking to someone. He looks over at Sherry, who gestures for him to continue what he's doing and questions why he stopped in the first place.

"I'm at work already, so I'll call you later." You mutter. "You'll have to end the call for me because my hands are full right now."

The person on the other end of the call hangs up their phone. You sigh, lifting your head from your shoulder, only to realize you made a mistake. Your phone slides off your shoulders and tumbles to the ground, but it doesn't fall to the ground. Leon manages to catch your phone for you before taking the stacks of manila folders from your hands.

"Busy morning already?" Leon murmurs, giving you a half smile.

You sigh, nodding. "Very. The minute I open my eyes, I already have tasks to do. I am not organized today. I'm all over the place," You ramble, putting your tote bag on your chair and turning your computer on. "Thank you for catching my phone and taking the folders from my hands."

"No need to thank me. I'm more than happy to help when you need it." Leon smiles, watching you get situated for the day.

You nurse your cup of coffee, waiting for your computer to load everything so you can start where you left off the day before. With one hand, you turn your tablet on, enter your pass code, and open a notes app that consists of your checklist for the day and work.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Leon—I mean, Mr. Kennedy?" You clear your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks as your heart starts racing against your chest.

It's a new day, and you've already embarrassed yourself. How lovely. But it's no surprise, since you always, somehow, manage to embarrass yourself without having to try. Maybe if you don't look at Leon, he won't notice your mistake.

Leon clears his throat. "There's something I need to ask you, but I want to ask you this question privately."

You peek at him. "I'm not getting fired, am I?"

"No, you're not getting fired. I'm not your boss; we're in different departments."

"Okay, so, if we were in the same department, would you fire me?"

"What? No, absolutely not. That's ridiculous."

You put your coffee cup on your desk and lock your desktop. You turn to Leon and nod to let him know that you're available to discuss whatever he wants to talk about. You get up from your desk and follow Leon out of the office. You pass Sherry, only to see her shoot a mysterious smile at you while sipping on her coffee.

Once you and Leon are out of earshot and the office, Leon doesn't stop there. He searches for an empty room where no one can walk in on the conversation. After two and a half minutes, Leon finds an unoccupied room and gestures for you to enter after opening the door for you.

You enter the office, subconsciously wiping your sweaty palms against your pants. Why are you so nervous? It's not like Leon is going to interrogate you, right? You'll be fine. Everything is going to be okay! Nothing to worry about at all!

"So, Mr. Kennedy, what do you want to ask me since you pulled me to an unoccupied room to ask me this question?" You tuck your hands in your pockets—it's deep pockets, too!

Leon closes the door behind him and approaches you. God, he's tall and beefy. A man! There's at least a foot distance between you and Leon; he's standing pretty close to you that you can smell his cologne. If your job wasn't on the line, you wouldn't mind blurring the line between professionalism and unprofessionalism. Heck, you would make it HR's problem if your job wasn't on the line and if Leon felt the same way. For now, it'll be in the back of your brain, never allowed to see the light.

Leon waves his hand in front of your face, head tilting to the side while gazing at you worriedly. "Are you alright?"

You smile at Leon. "I'm perfectly fine, Leon! Why'd you ask?" You didn't realize you said his name instead of his last name.

Leon smiles, looking down briefly, then back at you. You then realize that he's looking down at your smartwatch, the very watch that's screaming at you and Leon about your heart rate.

"WARNING: HIGH HEART RATE. Your heart rate increased above 120 BPM while—"

You quickly swipe the notification away before acting like nothing happened. Leon chuckles, shaking his head.

"Right. That reminds me. I hope this doesn't come off as rude, but I was wondering if you have a heart condition of any sort." Leon asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes quickly fall onto his bulging biceps before quickly looking at his beautiful blue eyes. Shit, what was the question again? You awkwardly clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck while looking at the bland decor of the office to calm your nerves and distract you.

After some time, you shake your head. "I don't have any heart conditions. Why'd you ask?"

Leon cocks his head to the side, looking at you curiously. "Can I ask you another question?"

"I don't know, can you? Also, you already asked me a question." You shrug, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

"Alright, fair enough. May I ask you another question?" Leon shakes his head, trying to hold back a smile.

"I mean, you just did, but go ahead." You reply, pressing your lips into a thin line to stop yourself from laughing. God, you hate yourself sometimes.

Leon shakes his head, quietly laughing to himself. You find yourself staring at him, mesmerized by his beauty. He's so handsome. Everything about him makes him attractive, not just his looks and his massive biceps that you want to be put in a chokehold with.

"If you don't have a heart condition, what is the main cause for your heart rate to increase at an alarming rate?" Leon asks.

"I'm a nervous person by nature," You lie.

He does that thing again, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. "You're nervous whenever you're around me?"

You blink at Leon owlishly. There's no way you walked right into that, right? "Uh, I don't know why you would think that, Leon—ahem, Mr. Kennedy." Is the room suddenly hot? Why are you so warm?

"You don't have to call me by my last name when we're alone. Leon is fine." He reassures you, smiling at you. "What I meant to say is, whenever I'm around you, or in the same room as you, your smartwatch would notify you of your increasing heart rate. Does your smartwatch notify you of your heart rate regularly, or does it notify you whenever I'm around?"

You definitely walked in on that one, fuck. You pucker your lips and look away from Leon, hands propped on your hips. You can't choose the first option because it doesn't happen regularly, hence why you never put your smartwatch on silent. But you don't want to choose the second option because it's the correct answer. The best thing you can do is die.

You slowly nod, looking at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at your shoes. "I plead the fifth."

Leon raises an eyebrow at you. "Avoiding self-incrimination, I see," Leon mutters, stroking his chin while watching you closely. "That's not fair, you can't do that."

"Well, you didn't say that I can't plead the fifth."

"Okay, well, now I'm saying it. You can't plead the fifth."

You nearly stomp your feet on the ground. "What do you mean I can't plead the fifth?"

"Because I said so," Leon shrugs, watching you with pure amusement while you're having an internal conflict.

You stare at him, mouth agape. "You can't do that, that's not fair!"

Leon's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "Oh, now you know what unfairness is!" Leon says, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Why are you laughing? This is no laughing matter!" You whine, covering your face with both your hands. God, can lightning strike you already?

While you're busy ruminating and shielding your face from Leon's view, you give him a clear view of your smartwatch screen. Leon leans forward to get a better look at your brightly lit smartwatch screen out of pure curiosity (and because he wants to mess with you a little more).

"WARNING: HIGH HEART RATE. Your heart rate increased above 120 BPM while…"

"Ah, there it is…" Leon murmurs, his eyes flickering back to you.

You peek from between your fingers to see how close his face is. You look at your watch and quickly swipe the notification away before turning around and proceeding to cover your face with your hands once more. Oh, so this was his plan the entire time!

"Stop, you're going to make my heart explode." You grumble, now pressing both hands to your chest. Your heart is thundering against your chest.

Leon shrugs, running his hands through his hair. "It's not like I'm doing it on purpose."

"I don't believe you." You snort, shaking your head. You eventually peek over your shoulder to see Leon toying with his Hamilton watch. God, the veins on his forearm. If you're in a cartoon, your eyes would be bulging out of your sockets, jaws to the ground with an AWOOGA blaring after you see those veins on his arms.

Leon looks up from his watch when he hears an audible smack. "What happened?"

"Nothing," is your immediate response while rubbing your throbbing cheek. What happens now after this? How can you go on about your day after this interaction with Leon? If anything, you're going to need to put your smartwatch on silent from now on.

Eventually, you and Leon make your way back to the office, exchanging words here and there. It doesn't feel uncomfortable between you and Leon. Leon is more loose around you, like he can joke with you and tease you, compared to the first time meeting you.

You also tease him back, but more shyly because of the thoughts in your head—how you just want him to… never mind. You're sure that Leon is very aware of that because of your smartwatch and because sometimes Leon catches you in the act of staring at him.

As you're locking your computer to go on your lunch break, Leon stops by your cubicle and watches you tuck your tablet into your tote bag. You look up and smile at him shyly, your heart punching against your ribcage.

"Do you need anything before I go on my lunch break, Leon—I mean, Mr. Kennedy?"

Leon chuckles. "I was wondering if you would like to join me for lunch."

"Yeah, I'd love to join you for lunch, Leon." You smile at him, warmth rushing to your face. "Will we be having lunch here, or outside of the DSO building?" You get up from your seat and push your chair in.

"Outside of the DSO building. Unless you prefer to have lunch on site?" Leon says, gesturing for you to follow him.

You walk beside Leon, tucking your hands in your pockets. "We can have lunch outside of the DSO building. I didn't bring lunch with me today."

As you and Leon walk to the elevator, you pass by Sherry, who quietly cheers and claps her hands. Leon has one hand hovering close to your back as you're both walking to the elevator and the parking lot to where his car is parked. It looks like things are budding between you and Leon, one heartbeat at a time.

But no matter how many times you swore you weren’t secretly obsessed with her and that there was no fucking shrine hidden in your closet or under your bed, she’d been saying the same shit long enough that no one believed you. 

“Can you just leave me alone?” You frowned, forcing your way through the crowd to get past her as she called out some other teasing remark about you going to rub one out. 

Loathing couldn’t quite suffice for just how much you couldn’t stand her.

Hate boiling and burning beneath your skin every time she hurled a new taunt your way, when she’d find you eating lunch in a single bathroom stall just to make your meals hell too, mocking you with glossy lips and a glittering smile while the rest of your class treated her like an angel even when her antics annoyed them. 

And when the girl that could do no wrong wished the worst for you, well, it seemed the worst was all you got. 

The rest of the student body had started treating you like shit too. Sneering and scolding you for staring, everyone convinced you had to be some sort of predator just because she said you liked girls. 

People didn’t grin at you in the hallways. 

Just glared. 

Your room had been ransacked a few times, clothes tattered and wrecked with staff that didn’t care to scold them. Your lunches knocked out of your hand. Stupid notes stuck to your back during class. 

There wasn’t a single person in this fucking place that wanted to be your friend. 

But you guessed it didn’t matter. 

You didn’t have that much longer left stuck here. 

Graduation was coming up soon – and despite the hell boarding school had been, the scholarship you’d been granted to attend had set you up for a pretty nice looking future. One without Toru. 

You locked the door to your room behind you, dropping your bag to the ground before collapsing onto your bed. Exhaling as your eyes shut, a migraine budding behind them from spending another day attempting to avoid her and failing miserably. 

Rolling over to pluck your phone from your pocket, your mouth reflexively curled up into a smile at the name on the screen. The one bright light in the midst of this pit of misery filled with pretty girls who thought you were pining after them and tried to punish you for it. 

All of them absolutely clueless that you were already taken. 

By a man they would definitely be desperate to call theirs too. 

You’d been seeing Satoshi for two years. 

Sorta. 

You hadn’t officially met him yet. Not when you started talking through a dating app. Back then, you’d been craving any company so much you had caved and downloaded a bunch. And you had lucked out to land an equally lonely person. 

Your relationship had been fairly casual at first, late night conversations where you stayed up until your eyes were sore and you nearly fell asleep sitting up in half your classes. Things had picked up this past year, the photos that used to be half your face or whatever you were doing escalating to more…intimate images. His questions turned more personal too, picking apart your brain until he knew probably more about you than anyone you’d ever met before. 

Sure, it wasn’t conventional. But he had sent plenty of his own questionable pictures and voice messages to quell any of your suspicions. He never asked for money either, instead showering you with attention and sending you expensive gifts (although everyone on your floor was convinced you were spending what little money you had sending them to yourself). He was wearing a uniform from an all-boys boarding school not all that far away in a lot of them – but between sports and classes and busy schedules, neither of you had been able to arrange a proper meet up. 

Until this weekend. 

Finally, you’d be able to do something other than giggle and grin at the photos of his pretty washboard abs and replay his thick, groggy good morning messages. 

He made reservations at a fancy hotel nearby, promising that he’d be waiting for you there with the biggest bouquet he could buy and wearing his best outfit in blue, sending you sweet messages about how badly he was aching to be yours in person instead of just online. 

Most people would think you made him up. 

And honestly, at first, when you tried to dispel the rumors and whispers about you being a lesbian by protesting and bringing up that you literally had a boyfriend, but when he actually went to another school, no one would believe you. 

Eventually, you gave up. Stopped seeing a point in swearing the truth when everyone else would always prefer the lie. 

It gave them someone lower on the totem pole to push around. 

Kept them safe from Toru’s reign of terror. 

Why would they listen? 

You told yourself that you were almost free. So fucking close to being out of her reach. 

They could all worship at her feet and follow her around like the lost puppies they were. You weren’t going to be a loser lingering in her shadow forever. Not when you still had your support in Satoshi. 

A new notification buzzed on your phone, breath catching in your throat in anticipation as you clicked on it too fast, before you could even read it. 

You should’ve looked. 

An unknown number and a nasty word stared back at you, your fingers automatically moving to block the number and delete it with a frown. 

Immediately re-opening your messages with Satoshi as you sniffled a little, too exhausted to keep the swirling emotions inside you at bay as you sent a short message, biting your lip until you tasted the blood on your tongue. 

Can you talk right now?

ε✿з

“Please, please, please, please-” 

“God, do you ever shut up?” Suguru groaned, rubbing his temple while Toru thrusted the phone in his face. 

“But I need your help,” she whined, pouting harder as he squinted at the messages. 

“You said you’d tell your girlfriend last month,” he annoyingly reminded her, brows knitting together in irritation as he reluctantly took the phone anyway, readjusting on his bed after she unceremoniously burst into his room after getting a ride all the way to their rival boarding school. “Don’t particularly feel like doing this for two more years.” 

God, what good was a best friend if they wouldn’t help in a time of need? Wasn’t he supposed to be a wingman?

“I’m telling her this weekend,” Toru frowned back, folding her arms across her chest as she glanced around his dorm room. It was honestly cleaner than hers, in shades of gray and green instead of the soft blue she was used to. Books actually neatly stacked on his desk instead of scattered haphazardly on every surface. “I wanna make it romantic. Like, book a hotel room and everything.”  

Buy you flowers, maybe an expensive set of lingerie, have them scatter rose petals over the bed and leave champagne on the table. Book a couples massage and take you out to a fancy dinner? Sure, she’d probably have to apologize for being a bit of a bitch to you over the years, but once you saw how serious she was about being in a relationship with you, couldn’t you just let bygones by bygones? 

Suguru arched one of those thin eyebrows, giving her one of those irksome looks that implied he didn’t think it was a good idea. 

But he was a man. 

What did they know? 

“You think she’s going to take it well?” He tentatively asked, and she couldn’t help scoff. 

“She likes Satoshi. Satoshi is me,” she simply said, gesturing with her hands as if it should be obvious. “Besides, shouldn’t she be grateful for my attention? Anyone would be.”

Suguru laughed, like it was a joke. 

But she just scowled back at him, completely serious as she tried to get what he didn’t get about the whole thing. 

Whoever got to be with her was the lucky one. 

Toru was beyond beautiful. Wealthy. Wore the best clothes and went to all the best vacation spots every year. Who wouldn’t want to be hers? 

It was just common sense. 

She’d been worshipped from the day she was born. It wasn’t like she was expecting you to do the same. She just wanted you to see how fortunate you were to have her favor. 

God, any girl would die to be in your shoes. Guys too, actually, beg for her attention and crawl on their knees for the tiniest slice of the attention she gave you. 

Sure, maybe she wasn’t always good at getting it across verbally, but she couldn’t risk someone else sneaking in and stealing your attention! Besides, her mouth seemed to always speak for itself around you, never saying exactly what she intended to when all her brain could think of was the shape of your lips and how your uniform clung to your tits since she’d bribed the office to keep sending you the size down. 

She could admit that she could be a little aggressive, but she just wanted you to finally fucking admit that you wanted her too. Not just play hard to get and avoid her all the damn time.

“She’s probably just going to complain about you,” Suguru warned her, jealousy flaring up in her chest as she ran her fingers through her hair. 

What the hell did he know? 

At least you were talking about her. 

Toru would rather your thoughts revolve around her than to be nothing to you at all. 

“She was definitely checking out my tits today,” she defensively argued, even though Suguru was still making an annoying face at her. So what if he didn’t believe her? 

You had, hadn’t you? This wasn’t just totally in her head? 

Maybe you didn’t even realize you’d done it. Toru had been trying her hardest to get you to see that you were obviously a lesbian like her, that the two of you were clearly compatible.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, and she wanted to yank the pillow out from underneath his head and smother him with it. 

“Are you going to call her or not?” She pouted, returning to the point as he slowly scrolled through the messages.

She imagined you back in your own bed, maybe biting your pretty lips until they were swollen, breaking the skin as you waited for a response. Would you let Toru lick the blood off if you knew it was her on the other end? 

“For fifty bucks,” he exhaled, and she once again contemplated suffocating him. 

But she was still shrugging down her purse, digging through its messy contents to pull out a hundred and toss it at him. 

“You’re such a dick,” she derisively huffed, even though she had started this whole arrangement by promising to pay him a couple years ago. Begging him to let her use his photos to catfish you, and despite his initial moral protests that it was wrong, blah blah blah, he eventually caved in. 

It wasn’t ever supposed to last this long. 

She meant to tell you months ago. But there were always pesky little flies buzzing around every time she tried to talk to you at school, and she couldn’t get the correct words to leave her lips when everyone was always watching the two of you together. 

God, even when she tried to talk to you in the bathroom when you ate your lunch in there alone, people still fucking followed her. 

“You better pull your pants down a little and snap a pic if I’m paying you,” she hissed at her only actual friend, just for Suguru to roll his eyes at her again from his lazy position on the bed. 

God, did she have to do everything herself?

She climbed on top, grabbing his slacks by the hips and wiggling it down as low as she could without revealing his disgusting dick. She didn't really understand what you could possibly find appealing about the obviously inferior gender, but maybe it was just because you didn't know better yet. Hadn't seen what her pretty tits looked like without her uniform covering them or properly experienced a woman’s touch. 

“Are you serious-” 

Toru ignored Suguru, tugging his shirt up too and snagging the phone back, carefully angling it to snap a photo that captured his dark happy trail, the defined muscles and ridges of his abs and hitting send. 

It was almost instantly marked as seen. 

She stared at the screen, willing your response, wishing for something in return and grinning wildly when you sent an image back. 

Your uniform removed to reveal your gorgeous tits pressed together in a pretty white bra. Had you picked it out for her? Or well, Satoshi? Your face wasn’t in it, but she could imagine what expression you were making. How your lashes might flutter, how your bottom lip might push out. 

Were you touching yourself? 

“Do you still want me to call her or do you wanna go rub one out?” Suguru sarcastically asked, his voice thick with sleep from the nap she ‘rudely’ interrupted. 

“Ask her to send a video of her doing that,” she demanded, holding the phone back out while he let out a low exhale, shutting his eyes like he hadn’t meant to sign up for that.

“Do I at least get to watch the video if she sends it?” He grumbled, and Toru glared back at him, folding her arms across her chest as she gritted her teeth. 

“Fine,” she begrudgingly accepted. 

It was only natural, she supposed. She spent almost every day bragging to him about how gorgeous you were, rambling about all the cute faces you made and funny things you’d said. Of course, he’d want to experience the little pieces of you Toru was generous enough to share. 

He took the phone, hitting the call button as Toru gestured for him to put in on speaker while it rang. He did, and you only took a second to answer. 

“Hi,” your soft voice breathed on the other end, and a jolt of excitement shot through Toru. 

You sounded so adorable. She just wanted to take a bite. Sink her teeth into you so deep you’d be stuck with the bite marks for the rest of your life. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” Suguru greeted, keeping a straight face while Toru suppressed actually giggling at the light sound of your pretty laughter through the phone. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, all sweet and sincere. 

“Just thinkin’ about you,” Suguru smoothly replied. Toru couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him, having a hard time believing any girl could actually be stupid enough to-

“Really?” 

Nevermind. 

This was exactly why you needed Toru. Sure, Suguru was her best friend, but moronic men like him would never be able to take care of you like she could! 

“I liked that photo you sent me,” he murmured into the phone, pitching his voice down while Toru’s nails bit into her palm, imprinting half-circles into them as she heard your breathing hitch on the other end. 

“Y-yeah?” You stuttered a little bit, as precious as always. A little awkward, too, but that was part of what made you so addicting. What made Toru so desperate to be the one you were stammering and stumbling over your words for. “I liked yours.” 

“You wanna show me just how much?” Suguru spoke slowly, leaving the implication up in the air for you to jump to your own conclusion. 

To decide just how badly you wanted to please Satoshi. 

“You want another photo?” You asked after a moment, temptation teetering there. Toru was dying to touch you. Be there in your bed as she heard your sheets rustling underneath your body through the grainy line. Replaying all the pretty expressions you’d worn in the hall earlier, imagining how different the one you had on now was. 

“I want more, angel,” Suguru replied, immediately reminding Toru that you still didn’t know you were hers yet, still enveloped in this boy version of her that she and Suguru fabricated. “Are you touching yourself for me?” 

“Maybe,” you shyly said, close enough to a confession. 

“Think you could record it for me, sweetheart?” He hummed, careful not to sound demanding, just issuing a little dare she knew you would take out of fear of disappointing him.

“If you really want me to,” you hesitantly replied, all light and airy. Barely needing to be nudged to agree to send a video of your breathy moans, one where your fingers would slip underneath your matching panties as you cried out after someone that never really existed. 

“Good girl.” 

You didn’t even ask him not to show anyone else. 

Just blindly trusted him. 

Would you still feel the same when you knew it was really her? Follow her lead and stay on her leash? 

Sometimes, you sorta reminded Toru of a lost little lamb. One she had to shepherd back into place. It wasn’t like she was trying to put the crook around your neck, to pull you close, but she’d do what she had to just to have you. 

ε✿з

Be there in five. Can’t wait for you to finally be mine.  

“Can I help you, miss?” A hotel employee startled you, blinking hard a few times in surprise as you swallowed hard and shook your head.

“I’m, um, just waiting on someone,” you answered with a tight smile, grateful when they seemed to accept that answer, nodding politely and walking away as you rested against the wall rather than taking a seat on one of the stiff couches clustered together by coffee tables nearby. 

You were too anxious to sit. 

Nerves racing under your skin as you continuously checked the time, smoothing out the skirt you picked out and glancing down at the revealing shirt you’d chosen after he made a comment about how much he was looking forward to burying his face against your breasts. 

But as minute five came and passed, you still hadn’t spotted a single sign of him. 

You felt like an idiot, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you kept scanning the lobby for a glimpse of blue like he promised. Pulling up your phone to read and reread his latest message for comfort. 

Fingers tapping the keyboard, typing out a message to ask if he was close only to delete it and try to reword it, wasting another few minutes struggling to come up with something not totally desperate to say only to come up empty. 

A familiar giggle made your blood run cold. 

In a single instant, your mood was spoiled, rotten, head snapping in trepidation as you saw the blue you were searching for at the receptionist’s desk. Just on the wrong person. 

A tight blue dress clinging to the hips of your least favorite person, pushing her boobs up and riding high on her thighs as she turned towards you, eyes locking onto yours like she already knew you’d be here. 

The receptionist passed her two keycards, and she had to readjust the huge bouquet of flowers in her hand to grab it before she started walking towards you, her tall heels clicking against the tiled lobby. 

“Don’t you look adorable?” She smiled at you. Smiled. You were pretty sure your brain short-circuited. Overwhelmed by the fact a compliment had left her lips with not a hint of cruelty. Perhaps a sliver of condescension, but unless your stare was suddenly deceiving you (and you so badly wished it was) she actually appeared genuine. 

“W-what are you-” You started stammering, heat rushing up to your face as she stepped even closer, looking down at you with amusement glittering in her pretty eyes as she pushed the flowers into your arms.

“I'm Satoshi, silly,” she hummed, her mouth curling up in a smirk that just screamed she was proud of her scheme. 

“No, no,” you bluntly said, struggling to breathe when her words threatened to unravel years of a relationship you’d been clinging to, counting on to keep your sanity intact. “He called me. Sent me voice messages, photos-” 

“I had to get my friend Suguru to help,” she admitted, fake sympathy in her practiced smile as she reached out and touched your cheek. Caressed it with her soft fingers while you stood there in too much shock to recoil. “But all the conversations were me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. 

The word had never made you feel so fucking sick before. 

Satoshi had called you that all the time. But he was apparently her, and the realization that all your raw vulnerabilities, all the times you poured your heart and soul out just for Toru to be on the receiving end. All those reassurances you’d hung onto, the pretty words you copied down into diaries and woven into your brain, they all belonged to her. 

Betrayal burning through you as you tried to process the depth of their deception. How many layers to it were there? How much time had she spent just to keep up this charade? Pretending to be a fucking man to what?  

Humiliate you even more than she did on a daily basis? 

“Am I just a sick joke to you?” You asked, voice thick with hurt you couldn't hide anymore. She tormented you for years. What the hell else were you supposed to think? 

“You're my girlfriend?” She retorted, tilting her head to the side as if she couldn't understand what you were confused about. 

“You hate me,” you pointed out, mentally replaying every mean word out of her mouth from the day you met. All the times she accused you of wanting to have sex with her and basically being a lovesick loser. 

“I like you,” she corrected you, and you got the distinct impression this wasn't exactly the reaction she'd been expecting from you. 

And in the next thick pause, the silence where you stared at her with an open mouth, you realized that perhaps she'd been projecting. 

That maybe the obsessed one had been her all along. 

You stepped back, shaking your head as you heard yourself scoff. 

“Do you just want me to say sorry?” Toru asked, her glittery lip gloss catching the light as she dramatically pouted. “I am, you know, I just get so excited when I see you, it’s hard to hold it in.” 

You blinked. 

Her eyes shifted down to your chest, openly ogling you as pink bloomed against her pretty cheeks, her fingers slipping back into your hair like you were a couple. 

As if, in any universe, this could be considered normal. 

You wanted to scream. 

To storm off and slam the glass door behind you. 

Go back to your room and cry into the pillow after you scrubbed every stupid photo and video you ever saved of Satoshi from your phone. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to graduate and get as far from Toru as possible, find a place with your boyfriend and start a new life where you could forget about the past few years you’d spent here. 

“What did I do to ever deserve you doing this to me?” You breathed, a hot lump forming in your throat as you tried to hold back the sob that wanted to break out. Hyper aware of how hard you tried on your makeup this morning, how much time you’d spent picking out what to wear and how to style your hair, desperate to impress someone who apparently didn’t even exist. 

The tears were welling up anyway, heavy in your lashes and collecting in the corners of your eyes as you felt the stares of people passing by. The whispering you’d gotten used to whenever you were around Toru. 

Her face scrunched up, her annoyingly pretty mouth parting as she moved her hand to drag her thumb underneath your eyes. Wiping away your tears while she tilted her head to the side, loose waves bouncing in time with her huff, “Are you seriously crying?” 

“You catfished me,” you said, hating how crushed you sounded. But you were. In a handful of seconds, she had decimated any ounce of your confidence you had left. Reduced you to rubble under her stupid red-bottomed heels and then rubbed it into the glossy tiles you were standing on. “You’ve been calling me a lesbian for years, but you-” 

“That’s because you are one,” she said, perfectly plucked brows knitting together tightly as she took a small step closer. Almost enough for both your chests to touch, her eyes drifting back down for what felt like the twentieth time at your shirt. “I mean, I am too, was it not obvious?” 

No, it absolutely wasn’t fucking obvious, but the way she said it was enough to make you freeze. 

Honestly, if anything, you thought she was a little homophobic before this, but you didn’t know how she’d take that. 

“Come on, you can just admit that you were crushing on me, you don’t have to keep-” You made some sound at her insane statement, pure disgust mixing with the scoff that escaped. 

“I hate you,” you half-whispered. Loathing burning in those three short words as you tried to find the strength to move. But she didn’t flinch. Just pursed her lips together as she batted her soft, white lashes at you. 

“You told Satoshi you loved him last night,” she so unhelpfully reminded you, speaking slowly as if she was giving you time to think between her words. “That means you love me.” 

“I-” 

You couldn’t even get out what you wanted to say when she started twirling a loose strand of your hair around one of her long fingers. 

Was she actually trying to seduce you? 

Her chest pressed against yours, not sparing so much as a glance to anyone else in the lobby despite how much attention she had to know she was drawing as you felt her tits through her thin dress rubbing against yours like you were playing the starring role in a cheap porno. 

“Think about all those late nights we stayed up together,” she purred, looking down at you the same way she always did, and you wondered how you ever could have missed the hunger in them before. 

Well, that wasn’t quite true. You’d seen it. 

You just hadn’t realized what she was starving for. 

“All those times we talked about our families and our lives and what we wanted to do with them. All the stuff we wanted to do together,” Toru hummed, her nose nearly brushing against yours now too. You were struggling to wrap your head around the idea of her being the one you spilled everything too. Fuck, how many times had you complained to her about her? 

“I didn’t know-” You started, but she made a soft shushing sound that somehow shut you up. 

“We can still do all of it,” she promised, like you had any interest in any of it now that you knew what a fool you’d been for putting your trust in someone you never actually knew. In her. “Me and you.” 

You got the impression in your already flustered brain that she was trying to be romantic. 

That this was all supposed to be some grand gesture to show you that her feelings were genuine. 

But it just felt like fresh embarrassment. 

Your heart slamming against your rib cage while your thoughts ran in the same panicked circles, falling apart in front of a room full of strangers.

It sort of felt like you were being proposed to in public. Forced to say yes to not seem like a total asshole when everyone else was probably convinced she was earnestly confessing to you. 

And after years of being around her, you already had the experience to know the universe would always side with her. 

“What do you expect me to say?” You finally spoke, flat-out dumbfounded as your voice trembled. Her treachery was already twisting into something else in your stomach, your body attempting to turn it into something flattering just so you could cope with it. The intoxicating scent of her perfume stuffing your nostrils and clouding your thinking as you struggled to sort out all the different emotions rattling around inside you. 

The hurt and the heartache and the conflicting feelings of loss and longing for someone that wasn’t there. The scariest part was that some sliver of you was starting to consider Toru. 

Starting to want her. 

Acknowledging that you couldn’t actually have Satoshi, and coming to the conclusion that she was the closest fucking thing you had. 

The thought itself was incredibly depressing. 

“I love you, Toru?” She offered, doing her own impression of your voice. 

“I don’t,” you argued, although you weren’t sure how convincing it actually came out when her proximity left your voice quivering. 

“What? You only loved me as a boy then?” She grinded her sharp canines, not quite glaring, but clearly unhappy as her blue eyes bored into yours. 

“How was I supposed to know my boyfriend was you?” 

Other than the fact he was obviously too good to be true. A guy like that would never be interested in you. No, the only person who was, apparently, was your insane classmate who’d been pretending to be a man for two years just to get you to fall for her.  

You almost wished this was simply blackmail. That she just wanted to hold your humiliation over your head.

This felt so much worse. So much ickier. 

Especially when your body was beginning to betray your mind just with her touch, her scent, warping what your senses with her cruel fingers and soft skin. 

“A girlfriend is way better than a boyfriend,” she huffed at you, rolling her eyes like you should already know that. 

“You want to be my girlfriend?” You asked, meant to be rhetorical rather than serious. But her eyes lit up, lips lifting up into a blinding smile as she nodded. 

“Duh.” 

No. No. No. 

This could not be-

“Let’s go check out our room,” she hummed, effortlessly changing the subject as she backed off only to grab your wrist. Throwing an annoyed look over her shoulder at all the passerbys who had not-so-subtly paused to watch whatever was happening between both of you. “So annoying how people are always obsessed with me.” 

Too blind to see how much of a hypocrite she was being.

You were too stunned to stop her. Feet uselessly following after her as her pale fingertips dug deeper into your skin, dragging you around like you were just an accessory on her arm. 

Feeling almost like you were floating along, trying to tell yourself that this was all just some fucked-up dream you’d wake up from before you got there. 

But you didn’t. 

Just standing there like an idiot when she was holding the keycard up to the door, glancing down to realize you were still holding the flowers in your other limp hand. 

The saddest part was you were pretty sure no one else would give you anything as remotely nice as these. 

“I wasn’t trying to ask you to be-” You tried one more time, but she was already opening the door and pulling you in. 

“You know, you’re kinda being ungrateful,” she huffed, shutting the door with a heavy thud as she dropped her designer purse on the floor. You didn’t even think she knew how much it cost. Probably just purchased it without considering how many meals that much money could’ve bought someone else. 

“I’m ungrateful?” You echoed, hurt coiling hot in your core as you stared in disbelief at her in front of you. You wanted it to be hurt, at least, forcing yourself to look away only to find rose petals all over the floor. 

She reached around to start pulling down the zipper of her dress, stepping out of her heels without pausing before shimmying her clothes off. 

Shit. 

She wasn’t wearing a fucking shred underneath. 

You weren’t a lesbian. At least, you were pretty sure you weren’t a lesbian. But something was fluttering inside you against your will at the subtle bounce of her breasts when she bent over to pick up a rose petal and pinch it between her fingers, pouting like she was disappointed by the color of them. 

“I mean, you have me in front of you, and you’re not even appreciating it,” she complained. 

“If you’re expecting me to beg for you-” you started, awkwardly turning to place the flowers on the closest table, but that only gave her the opportunity to move closer. To bridge the gap between you. 

“I’m not,” she argued back, but the mischievous little grin on her face was enough to cast doubt. “But you will anyway.” 

Your mouth fell open, and it felt like she had your heart in her fist, squeezing it to watch the blood slowly drip out. 

“I’ve seen how pretty you look begging,” she murmured, and that heat simmering inside you just creeped higher, flooding your face as you realized what she meant. Remembered all those videos you’d sent her thinking Satoshi was seeing them. “Wanna hear it for myself.” 

And before you could even deal with the notion that Toru had a plethora of videos of you masturbating stashed away, that she probably had fingered herself to you, she was kissing you. 

She tasted like candy. 

Sugary sweet gloss melting onto your lips as her mouth messily collided with yours. You froze for a few moments, but your lips started to kiss her back. Parting to let her tongue slip in as you were torn between telling her to stop and letting this continue. 

What could you do? 

What should you do? 

If she sent those videos to anyone, your life would be fucking ruined. But you didn’t want to just be Toru’s pet, something she doted on in secret and embarrassed in public. 

And at the same time, your body was reacting to hers almost instinctively, leaning forward instead of pulling away, despite your arms falling to your side, unsure if you could even touch her back. 

Toru, on the other hand, was grabbing a handful of your ass – and one of your tits too. Groping and squeezing while her tongue explored your mouth like she owned it all. 

Maybe if you gave into her now, if you let her have this, have you this once, you could still just leave anyway after graduation. Change your number when you changed cities, fuck, maybe changed countries if it meant getting away from the war she was waging between your head and heart. 

“You’re such a bitch,” you breathed when she broke the kiss, knowing that if she kissed you again, you weren’t going to stop her either. 

She laughed. At that, or maybe just at you. 

And then she was grabbing your hips, twisting you around and guiding you back to the bed, pushing you down on it hard enough to knock the air from your chest. 

“Don’t be a brat,” she pouted, pushing her glossy lips out as she easily rolled up your little skirt around your hips. Grinning at the sight of your lacy little panties, the pure white shade that came a little too close to her hair that she quickly pulled down around your thighs next.

“I’m not a-” 

Your words died in your throat as she slipped a delicate finger inside your warmth before you could protest what exactly you were. No better than a bitch in heat when just an experimental circle had a broken gasp escaping your mouth. 

She smiled at you again, pride and amusement shining like stars in her blue stare. You supposed she’d just found a new way to play with her favorite toy. 

“You’re so cute,” she complimented, climbing on top of you, her knee nudging your thighs further apart as her other hand trailed underneath your shirt. 

You swallowed hard. You knew you should say something else. 

Tell her to fuck off. 

But nothing came out. 

All the words dried up as she dragged her finger even deeper inside you. 

And then added another digit. Slowly getting to work stretching you open, feeling the way your walls started to squeeze down reflexively as she held your stare hostage. 

“You wanna tell me just how much you don’t like me?” She condescendingly hummed, daring you to disagree with her. 

“Do you hate me?” You asked instead, still struggling to wrap your head around the fact this was happening, no longer confident in something you had been certain of an hour ago. That somehow, you were proving her right. That just by being underneath her like this, with the taste of her candied lip gloss on your mouth and her fingers stuffing you full, you had become exactly what she said you were. 

A loser in love with her. 

You tried to tell yourself again that you weren’t. 

“I’m literally, like, in love with you,” she pouted, a hint of a familiar whine in it like she was sick of saying the same thing in different ways. “What do I have to do to make you see that, hm, pretty?” 

Probably erase the past few years from your memory, but you had a feeling she might engineer something like a car accident if it had the chance to cause retrograde amnesia – and force you to let her take care of you. 

And then her thumb drifted over your clit, and you forgot what you were thinking anyway with the soft pressure she applied. 

“Doesn’t it feel good?” She hummed, begging to rub careful circles over it, your body tensing as your chest tightened at the sensation. Your overheating core threatened to send shivers down your spine as her fingertips prodded deeper, faster. 

“T-Toru-” You didn’t know what you were even trying to say, brows knitting together as sweat started to drip down your forehead, everything inside you quickly grew all fuzzy. 

“You know, no one else could make you feel this good, sweetheart,” she said, teasing you as her thumb pressed that sensitive bud between your thighs like it was a goddamn button. 

Activating an embarrassingly primal part of your brain as you felt the pleasure build closer towards a climax you couldn’t believe you might be having. 

“No one else will ever know you like I do,” Toru continued, and you loathed that she might be correct. You told her everything. Every thought. Every secret. Every dream. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to trust anyone else like that again. “Love you like I do.” 

You wanted to hate this as much as you hated her. 

But her fingers were longer than yours, hitting spots you couldn't on your own as she slipped a third one in, swirling it around to tease you with that pretty, lilting laugh of hers. 

“Look at you,” she cooed, still mocking you even when you were in her hotel bed. “Soaked on my fingers like a slut.” 

You were.

Shaking and squirming as her fingers pumped in and out of you, whimpering weakly as she played you like a goddamn instrument. You knew you were going to cum. 

Knew that she’d won. 

Toru had made a mess of you. Unravelled you into a million little pieces that probably would never be put back together again. 

“That’s it, my pretty little lamb,” she cooed, and you wished your head was a little clearer to understand what she giggled about next. Your thighs trembling when she finally crooked her fingers just right, her thumb dragging over your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to finally make you cum for her. 

Your eyes drifting down to her bare body over you, her perfect tits, her flawless skin, the shape of her hips and thighs as her fingers worked in and out of you, her thumb working you through your orgasm as you broke. 

Bent into something unrecognizable under her pressure, her presence, blinking as your brain basically stopped functioning when she filled it with just thoughts of her. 

Watching numbly when she stood up and walked to her bag and back, white hair spilling over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side to look at the phone in her hand, squinting at the screen as she angled it to capture where you were splayed out in the bleached white sheets. 

“Say cheese.” 

reblogs + comments always appreciated angels <3

He kept stammering and stuttering, not capable of saying much else so out of panic he kissed you, and you nearly melt in his hand.

Zuko was a big moaner when he was like this, making soft pretty noises in your mouth, his tongue having a mind of its own wrapping around yours or even sucking on it. His hand threw your heavy thigh over his hip, slowly grinding his growing hard dick against your lacy panties you wore under his sleep shirt he still managed to give you even when you gave him the silent treatment. Such a sweetheart.

Not now though, right now he’s becoming a horndog.

The charm of Zuko that you loved so much was that you knew when he was holding back. He was a 6’5” 200 pound man of muscle and hair, he knew his strength and he didn’t want to hurt you, ever. Not even with your consent, but times like this made it hard for him not to press you against the mattress and make you take everything he could give you.

Not now, though…right now he’s wants to apologize.

His soft but dryer lips tugged at your bottom lip, nothing but the tussles of the sheets and shared moans filled the master bedroom under the dim lights of the night sky, it was like ecstasy kissing you. His hands kneading your soft butt, giving his a soft smack and grab to massage he couldn’t help, but to feel you all over. his hand rubbing down to your neck and cupping your breast over your shirt you pull back a little,

“Oh I’m sorry did i—“

‘No…” You cut him off, eyes looking at his hand retract away in embarrassment, “These just aren’t uh…you can’t grip much with these.” Making a fake giggle of exposing your slight insecurity, Zuko genuinely had a confused look on his face,

“What do you mean grip?…like this?”

His entire hand practically covers your whole right breast, he gives it a firm squeeze as he kisses your cheek, “T-there…not…big so I—“

Zuko gives you a destained looked, one of slight annoyance as if that was some kind of deal breaker, he always noticed how you never were opened to having tighter tops on or even wore your push up bras during sex, and he carefully rises up your shirt, making sure he can stop whenever you need him to and pulled out one of your breast from your bra.

He rolled his thumb over your perked nipple, hardening from the cool air and now his hotter breath before latching to suckle on, you look down to see both of his eyes looking up at you for a moment them closed softly, and focused,

“I’m aware.” He says with his tongue poked out flicking the sensitive bud, a shiver ran down your spine so abruptly you arched into him, and he used the opportunity to lift you with one arm and lay you back so he can get his fill.

It was nearly obscene seeing his long silk like hair spread all over your body and bed, you pushed a little in the back of his ear to get a better look at him. Your entire tit was in his mouth, so much so drool began to fall, you couldn’t help but get more turned on and grind against his thigh that was in between your weak legs so pathetically you nearly whimper in frustration for more friction, but alas your man knows when his girl is as needy as he is.

“Can I show you how sorry I am?…please?” He was begging in your ear, moving his harder shaft so slowly against your slit you could feel almost every vein and curve he had making you bite your lip, You both were breathless in desperation at this point.

“Yes…” You practically moaned out a response out of breath, just eager for him to do whatever he wanted at this point, your face was hot and you could actually feel how wet you were you knew you could hear it if he just fingered you. “Please yes, Zuku…”

Groaning one last time against you he sits on his knees, about to grab a hair tie from your wrist when a beautiful idea popped up;

“Do me a favor?” Zuko didn’t leave your eyes, he laid on his stomach between your legs and guided both your hands against his hair, “…hold my hair for me?”

Without hesitation you adjusted your position and even opened your legs wider to get your both comfortable, you held as much as his thick hair into one ponytail in your hand as you could, both of you ignoring pieces of it falling down his broad back and shoulder he gives you one last kiss on your upper lips and inner thighs, smelling your scent as he pulls your sticky panties down your ankle. He wasted no time lapping the wet drip coming from your cunt.

The grip on his hair tightened, earning a groan out of him, that wasn’t a means for him to stop, absolutely not he was 10000% becoming more pussy drunk by the second.

“Zu—!…Zuk…Zuko!” Your voice got higher when you felt his tongue press its way inside you, in and out in and out so much you could hear the mess he made with your arousal and his own spit. He was looking up at you for a moment, using his free hand to play with your nipples, flicking and twisting them before closing his eyes again to focus on you cumming.

His head moved back and fourth everything under his nose was wet and messy, Zuko used both his thumbs to spread your further open and spit on your clit, he didn’t care about the mess and it showed from how he rubbed his lips against it and lapped you slowly from the bottom of your ass all the way to your clit to suckle.

All your moans we’re loud enough for at least some of his guard to definitely hear you, usually he’d want you quiet solely out of respect, but you sounded nothing less than beautiful, so whiney and soft. Zuko couldn’t help himself to pull his own dick out his pants to stroke, following the rhythm of your hips against his mouth. When he noticed you coming close he took his other hand to hold yours and watch you.

The orgasm took over your body so suddenly you started to nip and bite at his wrist, you looked beautiful letting yourself go for him? he thought. He couldn’t even contain himself you felt some overstimulation when he ducked down on you harder from his own moaning of your name as he came in his hand.

Catch each others breath he climbs up to reach your mouth, “Taste yourself for me, princess.”

That plus his own saliva tasted nothing above delicious you and him ended up sharing such a sloppy kiss of whimpers, Zuko couldn’t take it anymore and began to slap the tip of his blushing red dick on your slit, “You like this? You do right?”

The urgency in his voice made it crack, you nod breathlessly and he tossed some of his hair to the other side of his shoulder and took both your thighs and held them up.

PLAPLAPLAPPLAP was all you heard when he slapped his tip on your still sensitive clit, such a sweet feeling you hummed in pleasure biting your lip.

Man it took everything in him not to slam himself inside you, but he can already see a blanket of exhaustion on your face. No worries.

“Just lay back…” Zuko opened your legs again to close the distance between you, “Kiss me….please.”

This kisses were merely a distraction, he was extremely thick , and it always was an extra stretch when he was inside you. You heard how wet you were from how much he pushed himself inside you. Zuko made an effort to not stop, he knew doing this just half way would only cause more pain, he can see it in your face you were trying so hard to take it for him,

“Bite me.” You open your eyes to his beside your ear, his shoulder wiggling a little, offering you somewhere to let out what you’ve been holding in. When your teeth locked on his skin he groaned, not wasting another second to bottom out inside you.

A shared noise of pleasure erupted the room, as sturdy as this bed was made it still didn’t stop a few knocks and bangs against the floor and wall when his strokes became deeper and faster.

Anybody that would walk in would just see your legs trying to wrap around his wide back, his butt thrusting in and out, and his hair covering the upper half of you both.

“You feel amazing, I’m —ah—I’m so sorry, Y/n…please…please tell me you forgive me?”

“Please. Please. Please. Please.”

His pleads didn’t stop, they were nearly at the same rate of his thrust. It didn’t help he was right in your ear either crying out and begging.

“I forgive you, Zuko..I—“ Your voice broke into a familiar moan, one he knows your close. He was sure of it by how you got even tighter around him.

Your big strong boyfriend practically had you in a bear hug at this point, his pace got sloppier and faster to the point he was a babbling mess on top of you.

“Your pussy is so good….so…ah so good!”

“I love you…I love you so much I’m so sorry, y/n.”

He was almost as loud as you, moaning your name, not able to keep composure anymore, you felt a little bit of his weight off of you, you opened your eyes to see his sex’ed out face, his eyes droopy, sweaty and cheeks as red as his Firelord uniform. He was so pretty. Even the necklace you made him was dangling over your face perfectly.

“Please…please cum with me I—I can’t— Y/n—“

Cumming together was probably Zuko’s favorite part of sex, to him it just solidified your bond in a way. It was a level of pleasure he couldn’t even describe if he had to. His eyes watch you break down, breast jiggling, thighs getting sore by the second. The orgasm lasted a while, seeing as his hips didn’t wanna stop despite the pain of overstimulation getting to you both.

“I love you…”He breathed into your drooling mouth, Zuko kept repeating the same words and your name a few times as if he needed it to be repeated inside your head.

When he finally slowed down into a full stop he laid on top of you, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck to hold his larger frame, feeling the sweat trickle down it.

It was a moment of unsteady breathing, in the mirror beside the bed you see Zuko covering his face with one hand, confused you ask him what’s wrong.

“N-nothing i—I just….got carried away there—-mmmm…”

Not even letting him get embarrassed for doubtful you take his cheek and kiss him , he looks up at you wide eye’d and red before hurrying his face back into your breast. Giggling, you look over to see the sky change colors to the sun beginning to rise, you almost wanted to feel sad, but it was soon forgotten when Zuko spoke up,

“I won’t make the mistake again of making you feel like you’re single in this relationship…I’ll make better effort to—“

“No. Zuko…I understand. I knew what i was getting into …I’m sorry for now acting like I do.”