𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 ꫂ᭪݁ 𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝗃. ⸝⸝
𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 .
『𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗋𝖺』 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ── .✦ 𝗐.𝖼. 2,000+
The hospital room smelled too clean. Too sharp. Antiseptic and smoke somehow clung together in the air, and every second you stood outside the door felt heavier than the last.
You pressed your trembling hand against the cool metal handle, trying to steady your breathing. The nurse had warned you softly before letting you in.
“He’s exhausted,” she’d said. “Try not to overwhelm him.”
As if you could ever overwhelm Michael.
As if the sight of him wouldn’t completely shatter you first.
The moment you opened the door, your chest tightened painfully.
Michael lay against the white pillows beneath dim hospital lighting, curls carefully pulled away from the bandages wrapped around his scalp. His usually bright eyes looked tired, softer than you had ever seen them. Machines hummed quietly around him, and for one horrible second, seeing him there made everything feel terrifyingly real.
Not some horrifying rumor spreading through Los Angeles.
You covered your mouth immediately, trying to stop the tears already slipping down your cheeks.
His eyes slowly lifted toward the doorway.
And despite everything, despite the pain medication and exhaustion and the injuries, he smiled the second he saw you.
“There you are,” he murmured weakly.
You crossed the room so fast the chair beside his bed nearly scraped loudly across the floor. Your hands found his instantly, careful of the IV taped to the back of one of them.
“Oh my God,” you whispered shakily. “Michael…”
He squeezed your fingers weakly. “Hey. Don’t cry.”
“Don’t cry?” you repeated in disbelief, your voice cracking. “Michael, your hair caught on fire.”
“I know,” he said softly, almost apologetically.
You stared at him for a moment like he was insane.
“I watched it happen,” you whispered. “I thought—”
Your voice broke completely before you could finish.
You couldn’t even say the words aloud.
Michael’s expression immediately changed. The small smile faded into guilt and tenderness all at once.
You sat carefully on the edge of the hospital bed beside him, trying not to jostle anything attached to him. The second you leaned close, he wrapped his arms around you as best as he could.
And that was when you finally broke apart.
You buried your face against his shoulder carefully, sobbing quietly into the hospital gown while his hand slowly stroked your back.
“I’m okay,” he kept whispering. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.”
“You scared me so bad,” you cried. “You scared me.”
You felt his fingers tighten slightly against your back.
“I know,” he whispered again, smaller this time.
The room fell silent except for your uneven breathing.
You slowly pulled back enough to look at him again, your hands immediately rising to cradle his face gently. His skin was warm beneath your palms, eyes glossy from both exhaustion and emotion.
“You should’ve called me sooner,” you whispered.
“They didn’t really let anybody in at first.”
“I would’ve fought security.”
That earned the tiniest laugh from him.
His smile grew faintly before fading again as he looked at you more carefully.
“You didn’t sleep,” he noticed.
Neither had he, probably.
You shook your head once.
Michael’s eyes softened so much it almost hurt to look at him.
“You came as soon as you could.”
You leaned forward before thinking and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, right beneath the edge of the bandages. Your lips lingered there carefully.
Michael closed his eyes immediately.
Like your touch alone eased something in him.
When you pulled back, his gaze stayed fixed on you.
“You’re real pretty,” he mumbled sleepily.
Despite the tears still clinging to your lashes, you laughed softly.
“You are heavily medicated.”
“No,” he whispered. “I mean it.”
His fingers brushed weakly against your wrist.
“You always look pretty.”
Even now, hurt and exhausted in a hospital bed, Michael still spoke so softly. So lovingly.
You bent down and kissed him properly this time.
Careful of the soreness in his face.
The second your lips touched his, he melted into it with a tiny sigh. His hand slid against your cheek while he kissed you back lazily, emotionally, like he needed the reassurance just as much as you did.
You could taste the faint dryness from hospital air and medicine, but underneath that he still tasted like Michael.
You nearly cried again because of it.
When the kiss broke, he rested his forehead carefully against yours.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
You smiled weakly through tears.
“And you love me anyway.”
You kissed him again before he could grin too proudly at himself.
His fingers curled gently into your sleeve while your hand rested carefully along his jaw. The kiss deepened slightly, slow and aching and full of relief more than anything else.
When you finally pulled away, Michael looked dazed.
Not from medication this time.
“You keep doing that,” he murmured softly.
You brushed your thumb gently beneath his eye.
“You almost got taken away from me. I think I’m allowed.”
His gaze dropped for a moment.
“I’m serious.” His voice cracked slightly. “I hate that I scared you.”
You immediately shook your head.
Your expression softened completely.
You leaned closer until your noses brushed.
“You know what scared me the most?” you whispered.
His eyes searched yours carefully.
“The thought that you’d wake up and think you were alone.”
Michael’s face crumpled slightly at that.
Fame surrounded him constantly, people crowded him everywhere he went, cameras followed him endlessly—but loneliness still found him anyway.
Especially when he was hurting.
“I’m here,” you whispered firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael stared at you for a long moment before suddenly pulling you into another kiss.
Desperate in the quietest way.
His hand slid into your hair carefully while he kissed you deeply, like he needed to feel something real after the terror of the last twenty-four hours.
You kissed him back immediately.
Every emotion you’d been holding in poured into it.
The overwhelming gratitude that he was still alive.
His breathing became uneven by the time you finally separated.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your lips.
You smiled softly. “I think I have some idea.”
“No,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded. “No, you don’t.”
You brushed curls carefully away from the bandaging around his head.
“A little?” you repeated skeptically.
He gave you a tiny shrug.
“That’s not the same thing.”
Michael watched you fuss over him for a moment before smiling faintly.
“You always take care of me.”
“I do,” you admitted quietly.
You helped adjust his blankets carefully before sitting close beside him again, your hand remaining tangled with his.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
The kind that settles after terror finally passes.
Michael eventually rested his head lightly against your shoulder.
You immediately leaned into him.
“You know what I thought about?” he asked quietly.
“While everything was happening… I thought about you.”
“What were you thinking?”
“That I didn’t wanna leave yet.”
Tears filled your eyes instantly again.
“I mean it,” he whispered. “All I could think was that I wasn’t ready to leave you.”
You turned toward him fully then, cupping his face with both hands.
“Don’t say things like that.”
“You’re staying,” you whispered fiercely. “You hear me? You’re staying right here with me.”
Michael looked at you with an expression so full of love it nearly stole the air from your lungs.
Then he kissed you again.
His fingers gently tightened against your waist as you leaned carefully over the hospital bed to kiss him properly.
You forgot about the machines.
Forgot about everything except him.
Michael hummed softly into the kiss, completely relaxed for the first time since you arrived.
When you finally pulled back, he looked peaceful.
“You make everything feel better,” he whispered.
“I wish I could take the pain away.”
Before you could respond, he shifted slightly and winced.
You immediately sat up straighter. “Michael—”
“You are a terrible liar.”
“You sound like my mother.”
You helped him settle more comfortably against the pillows before smoothing your hand gently over his chest.
“I don’t wanna sleep yet.”
His fingers intertwined with yours again.
The way he said it nearly broke your heart.
Like your presence alone anchored him.
Like if he fell asleep, maybe you’d disappear.
You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth gently.
“I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
You stared at him for a moment.
Michael Jackson—beloved by millions, adored everywhere he went—looked at you with quiet vulnerability and asked for a promise like a frightened child.
You kissed his forehead carefully.
He finally relaxed fully at that.
You stayed beside him as his eyes slowly began to drift shut, your fingers continuously combing gently through the curls untouched by the bandages.
Just before he fully fell asleep, he murmured softly:
Your throat tightened instantly.
You pressed one last lingering kiss against his lips.
And for the first time since the accident, Michael smiled in his sleep.
a/n : when i watched this part in the movie i was literally bawling broo like i felt so sad for my baby ☹️also joe only caring abt when he would get back on stage really pmo like find smth to do 😒btw im currently makin another jaafar fic so stay tuned !! 💕
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