•xoxo•

“I want you to know you’re welcome here anytime, baby” “Come over whenever you want. Don’t even worry about knocking.”

“Are you sure, Michael? I wouldn't want to intrude-”

“Of course I’m sure,” “You could never intrude.”

A small smile had tugged at his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“I’m always gonna want you here with me.”

And he meant it.

Atleast you thought he did.

That was why you never hesitated now when you walked through those doors.

You could hear the laughs of some of the brothers in the kitchen so you made your way there assuming thats where you would find your boyfriend. 

And as you were about to step into the kitchen you heard your name.

You stopped.

Not because you were trying to listen.

But Michael’s voice caught your attention before you even had the chance to announce yourself.

“She’s just…. really clingy sometimes.”

Your smile slowly faded.

Clingy.

The word sat heavy in your chest in a way you didn’t expect. You weren’t clingy, were you? I mean sure you did love spending all your free time with Michael and sure, you checked in on him throughout the day but you assumed he liked it too, right?

Apparently not. 

So you quietly turned around and drove home before you could even hear what he had to say next.

Normally, you would have called Michael as soon as you got home. 

But your phone stayed untouched on your nightstand by your bed. 

You set your things down, changed into something more comfortable, and sat on the edge of your bed for longer than you meant to.

It was silly.

You knew that.

But the word kept replaying in your mind.

Clingy.

A small tear slipped down your cheek before you even realized you were crying and you stayed like that for awhile.

It wasn’t until the next day that michael finally decided to call you.

You still answered, but you weren’t as eager to fill the silence afterward.

“Hello?”

“Baby!” He sounded so excited, why was he so excited?

His voice immediately softened something in you.

“Hi, Michael.” There was a small pause on the other end of the line, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could already imagine the way his brows furrow slightly when something was bothering him.

“You okay?” The question made your fingers tighten slightly around your phone. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It came out too quickly.

“I’m just tired,” you added, trying to make it sound more believable. Another quiet moment passed. Normally, neither of you ever struggled to find something to say. There was always another reason to keep the conversation going.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said.

“I’m just tired.” you reemphasized.

Michael hummed, clearly not completely convinced, but he didn’t push.“You’re not coming over today?”

You looked down at your hands. “I don’t know. I figured you were probably tired.”

“I am tired,” Michael admitted, a small laugh slipping into his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

“..”

“Baby…”

You could hear the concern in his voice, and that almost made it harder.

“I’m okay, Michael,” you said quickly. “Really. I think I’m just gonna rest today.”

Normally, Michael would have asked what was wrong and kept asking until you finally opened up. But something about the way you said it made him hesitate, leaving him unsure whether he should push or give you the space you seemed to be asking for.

“You sure you don’t want me to come by?” “I’m sure.”

A pause.

“Okay.” The disappointment in his voice was small, but you still noticed it.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” he said. “Okay.”

Another silence followed, one that felt too long for two people who were usually so comfortable with each other.

“Alright, baby. Get some rest.”

“Bye, Michael.” You hung up before he could say anything else and for a moment, you just stared at the phone in your hand.

The rest of your days during the week consisted of you and Michael basically playing cat and mouse.

He would call, like he always did, but you would let the phone ring a few extra times before finally answering. The conversations were never long anymore, your replies careful and excuses ready whenever there was a chance he might ask what had changed. 

Michael noticed.

Eventually, he started coming by your house, sometimes with flowers or something small he thought you would like, hoping you would open the door and tell him what was wrong. But every time, you found yourself staying quiet, pretending you weren’t home until he finally left.

You knew you were avoiding him.

You also knew you didn’t really know how else to handle the hurt you were carrying.

Mike on the other hand, had spent the entire week trying to convince himself that he was overthinking it.

That maybe you really were just tired. Maybe you were busy. Maybe there was some simple explanation for why your voice sounded different every time he called and why you suddenly seemed like you were always finding a reason not to see him.

But the more days that passed, the harder it became to believe that.

By the end of the week, it had become impossible for Michael to convince himself that everything was fine.

He tried throwing himself into work the way he always did. Dance rehearsals, recording sessions, meetings. Normally, they were enough to keep his mind occupied.

This time, they weren't.

His thoughts always seemed to find their way back to you.

He replayed your conversations over and over, searching for something he might have missed. Had he forgotten something important? Had he said something carelessly? Was he working too much? He couldn't think of a single reason why the person who he revolved his days to be around suddenly couldn't bear to look at him.

His brothers noticed too.

"You alright?" Marlon asked one afternoon as the two of them sat around the kitchen island.

Michael looked up from the plate he had barely touched.

"Yeah."

Marlon raised an eyebrow.

"You don't sound too sure."

Michael sighed quietly, bringing his hands up to cover his face. "I think... I think something's wrong."

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

That was the part that bothered him most.

"I keep asking her if she's okay, and she says she is, but she barely answers my calls anymore. When she does, she's off the phone in five minutes." He looked down at the table, "I went by her apartment twice this week."

"And?"

"She didn't answer."

A silence filled the room.

"I don't think she's mad at me," Michael admitted after a moment. "If she was mad, she'd tell me. She always tells me… she’s just, distant."

Marlon frowned.

"So what are you gonna do?"

Michael didn't answer right away.

After a long moment, he looked up.

"I'm going back."

"And if she still doesn't answer?"

He stood from the table, ready to ask Bill to take him to what was naturally his second home.

"Then I'll keep trying til’ she does."

────୨ৎ────

The knock came just after lunch.

You didn't have to look through the window to know who it was. For a long moment you stared at the front door while the house remained completely silent around you.

 Another knock.

Gentler this time.

You closed your eyes for a second before letting out a quiet breath and reaching for the doorknob. When the door opened, Michael was standing exactly where you expected him to be.

He looked tired.

Not the kind of tired that came from rehearsals or long nights in the studio, but the kind that settled behind someone's eyes after they had spent too many nights wondering what they had done wrong.

His expression softened the moment he saw you.

"...Hi sweetheart."

"Hi."

Neither of you moved.

"I, um..." Michael glanced down for a second before holding out the small bouquet he'd been carrying. "These are for you."

You hesitated before taking them.

"Thank you."

"Can I come in?"

You stepped aside without saying a word.

Now he stood awkwardly in the middle of your living room, unsure if he should sit down or keep standing.

You placed the flowers on the counter and folded your arms loosely across yourself.

Michael looked down for a moment, his fingers brushing over the edge of his sleeve before he finally looked back at you.

"I don't really know where to start.. I just know that something's different."

The words were softer than you expected.

"I've been trying to figure it out all week, and I keep thinking maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I said something, or maybe I haven't been making enough time for you, or maybe..." He paused, letting out a quiet breath as he shook his head. "I don't know. I keep going over everything, but I can't find anything."

You looked away.

Michael noticed.

He always noticed.

"I miss you," he admitted. "And I know that probably sounds so stupid because it's only been a week, but it feels like you've been pulling away from me for so much longer than that."

"I didn't want to bother you."

Michael's eyebrows pulled together.

"Bother me?"

You swallowed.

"I just thought maybe you needed some space."

The confusion on his face only grew.

"Space from you?"

You didn't answer.

The silence told him more than words did.

Michael took a small step closer, his hands coming up to cup your jawline.

"Baby, why would you think that?"

You looked at him, trying to find the right words.

"I heard you."

Michael went still.

"What?"

"At your house Michael."

The room suddenly felt much quieter.

"I wasn't trying to listen," you rushed to explain. "I was just coming over for lunch, and I heard you talking with your brothers."

Michael's expression shifted, confusion slowly replacing itself with realization. "What did you hear?" he says your name softly.

You hesitated.

"I heard you say I was clingy."

For a moment, Michael didn't say anything.

Then his face softened.

"Oh, mama."

The way he said it almost made it harder.

"I thought..." Your voice caught slightly. "I thought I was too much for you."

Michael immediately shook his head.

"No."

"No, no, that's not what I meant."

He pulled your head close to his, making sure you were looking at him, his expression filled with regret.

"Y/n, you didn't hear the rest of it."

You frowned slightly.

"The rest?"

Michael nodded.

"I was talking to my brothers because I was trying to explain how much I love having you around. I was telling them that you're always here, that you always want to spend time with me, and I was laughing because I realized I'm the exact same way."

A small, sad smile crossed his face. "I said you were clingy because I love that about you."

You stared at him. "I love that you call me after a long day. I love that you come over so we can watch movies together. I love that I get to know all the little things about your life because you want to tell me."

His voice softened.

"I didn't mean clingy like it was a bad thing."

You looked away, feeling the weight of the misunderstanding finally start to lift.

"I thought you were getting tired of me."

Michael's expression changed immediately. "Sweetheart, I spent this entire week thinking you were leaving me."

The honesty in his voice made you really look at him.

"I thought maybe you had finally realized that being with me is too much. I thought maybe I was asking too much from you, that with the album and my career.. It was getting too intense for you."

You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching at the thought that he had spent the entire week carrying that fear by himself.

“Michael,” you said softly.

His eyes lifted back to yours.

“I wasn’t leaving you.”

The words came out immediately, because you needed him to hear them.

“I wasn’t thinking about ending anything. I was just hurt and I thought I was giving you what you wanted. I just misunderstood you. I should’ve talked to you instead of disappearing, i’m sorry.”

Michael looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over yours.

“I missed you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You almost laughed.

“Mikey, I spent the whole week trying not to call you. Do you know how hard that was?”

That finally got a real smile out of him.

“I had a feeling.”

You rolled your eyes softly.

For the first time in days, you both looked completely at ease.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” you repeated back again.

And finally, after a week of missed calls and avoiding each other, you closed the space between you.

The kiss was soft, like both of you were making sure this was real. But it didn’t take long for the relief of having each other back to settle in.

A week without him had felt much longer than it should have.

When you pulled away, Michael kept his arms around your waist, holding you close like he was making up for every moment he spent thinking he was losing you.

“I really missed this,” he murmured.

You smiled against him.

“I did too.”

“No more secretly disappearing because you think I need space.”

You laughed. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, pulling you closer. “Because I was starting to think my girlfriend was trying to break up with me without telling me.”

“Michael,” you giggled harder this time.

“I’m just saying,” he teased. “Very rude way to find out.”