Something special
about being different.
Pairings: Michael X Reader
Genre: Romance, Fluff, And a tiny bit of angst.
Warnings: None!
Summary: Reader turns out to have vintiligo and tries to hide it from michael but it doesn’t quite work out..
W.C: 1.6k
Author's Note: Thank you for clicking on my story!
English is not my first language so l apologize. If I spelt or used any grammar wrong please let me know! Also I don’t know much about vitiligo so I did some research about it but i’m sorry if I didn’t do the best job on explaining it and such. This story comes from someone who commented on my last post! @achingletters this is for you!
NOT PROOFREAD!
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it has been two weeks since you noticed the first patch of skin of yours to lighten. You knew it was possible since vitiligo ran in your family but it had missed the rest of your siblings. Before you could think much more you grab some of your foundation, pumping it onto your makeup sponge before tapping it onto the skin of patch on your arm softly.
It wasn't perfect, i mean you could still see it if you looked close enough but everyone else probably wouldn't, michael wouldn’t, and that jtself was enough. You set the sponge down, looking at yourself in the mirror before rolling your sleeve back over your arm.
Another knock. “Baby?”, it was michael. You closed your eyes taking in a deep breath before speaking, “Yeah?"
"You almost ready?" michael said with a bit of concern lingering on his voice. Mhm.", michael scoffed a little bit, “You said that fifteen minutes ago."
“..I know!” His laugh came softly through the door. “You okay?" you can hear the concern spreading through his voice with each second, “Yeah." You answered so fast it almost made you cringe. its silence for a second before you hear michael’s feet shuffling a bit. “You sure?"
"I'm just tired." you say with a dramatic breath. “..Alright." His footsteps faded down the hallway, and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.
The guilt was starting to eat at you, you hated lying to him, especially him, I mean it’s not like he ever lied to you! He always told you the truth no matter what but
every time you thought about telling him, you just couldn’t..
Not because you thought he'd leave, gosh never that, not in a billion years! it was just because he’d understand, too much.
You'd watched him quietly rub makeup over his own body before interviews, and you’d seen him pull long sleeves down even when it was warm outside. You would catch him staring at old pictures of himself sometimes before quickly putting them away when he realized you'd walked in.
He never complained, not really. He never wanted you to worry about him or what the press thought about him but you knew.
You knew people had been cruel, and you knew they still were and always will be. And the last thing you wanted was to remind him of all of it. So you kept pretending.
You'd gotten pretty good at covering it now! At least... the first one, now there were three. You stared at them in the mirror for a second before grabbing more foundation. Maybe if you layered it enough... You end up putting A LOT more foundation, on top. It almost looks like a clump.. You knew that eventually foundation wouldn’t be enough but that’s something for future you to worry about.
A month later is exactly when future you had to worry, makeup itself truly wasn't enough anymore, you found yourself wearing sweaters in the middle of summer, long sleeves, pants, anything.
And of course, michael noticed. He noticed everything.
"You aren't hot?" he asked one afternoon as the two of you sat on the back porch.
It had to be almost ninety degrees outside.
You shook your head and smiled, “Nope, I'm fine." He looked at your hoodie and
then back at you. “Baby.. you’re literally sweating." michael said, his face now a little bit scrunched up.
“No, I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm cold."
"Babe."
You looked away.
"I said I'm fine."
Your answer came out sharper than you meant. michael immediately went quiet,
"...Okay."
The rest of the afternoon felt different. He still smiled, still held your hand, and still kissed your forehead before going inside.
But he kept looking at you like he knew something was wrong, like he was waiting for you to let him in, waiting for you to come to him or else he would come to you. Whether you were ready to talk about it or not didn’t matter, he didn’t care.
That night you stood in front of the bathroom mirror again, another spot. Rightttt above your collarbone. “Great.”
You whispered to yourself. Your mind went back to when michael would kiss that specific spot, you didn’t want him to see it, you weren’t ready. Your hands started shaking. You leaned against the sink.
"I can't do this-“ You hadn't heard the bedroom door open, “Baby?” michael said dragging out the y. Your head shot up and
before you could pull your shirt back up, Michael was already standing in the doorway.
Neither of you spoke, his eyes landed on the pale patch, then another, then the one of your arm.. You watched his face change. It wasn’t him looking disgusting or shocked, it was him recognizing it.
"Oh..." He whispered it so quietly you almost didn't hear him.
Your heart dropped to your stomach before scrambling to find words out, “I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to hide it from you, i just. I didn't wanna..." Your voice cracked slightly before speaking again with a whisper, “I didn't want you to think about yours." michael didn't answer.
He was just staring, not at the patches or the skin but at you, your beautiful face, staring like his heart had broken. You started crying before he even moved or spoke.
“I know what people say!”
"I know what they think."
"I know what they did to you and I didn't wanna make you relive it every time you looked at me or were around me!”
His eyes immediately filled with love and adoration, “Oh, sweetheart..." His voice almost disappeared and crossed the room in three quick steps before pulling you against him. You buried your face into his chest almost instantly, “I'm sorry."
"No."His arms tightened around you.
"No, don't apologize, it’s okay baby.” He said, pressing a soft yet firm kiss at the top of your head. “I should've told you, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you say into his chest, sniffling nose and all.
"You should've never felt like you couldn't." You could hear it in his voice, he was sad that you hadn’t told him, like he was holding you back. He rested his cheek against the top of your head.
"I hate..." He stopped himself.
His breathing hitched. “I hate that you went through this alone."
"I didn't wanna hurt you."
"You couldn't."
"I could."
"You couldn't."
He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumbs wiped away your tears one after another. “I know why you hid it."
A sad smile crossed his face. “Because I would've done the same thing, actually I did do the same thing.” You looked up at him. “I remember covering every little spot."
He laughed a bit, although it wasn’t really a laugh. “I used to stand in front of mirrors for hours." His eyes drifted away for a second. “Wondering if it'd stop." "If maybe I'd wake up and it'd all be gone, or that some type of medicine would come it and it would just all stop.” “it never worked." He swallowed once before speaking again, “And people noticed anyway."
You'd never heard him talk about it like this, ever. "I remember reading things people wrote." His voice was practically a whisper now, "I remember crying at night, by myself, wondering what I could do to stop it all.” Your chest tightened.
Michael looked back at you with tears sitting in his eyes, wanting to come out so badly but michael was never one to cry in front of you.
"I would've done anything to have somebody hold me the way I'm holding you right now." As soon as you said that you immediately broke even more, michael having to go through this alone, nobody to help him. He pulled you back into his arms before you could even wipe your face.
"So that's exactly what I'm gonna do." He kissed the top of your head once again, then your forehead, and then the corner of your eye where another tear had fallen.
"I don't care if one spot shows up." Another kiss. “Or ten." Another. "Or even a hundred." His forehead now rested against yours. “I'm gonna love every single one because they're yours." You laughed through your tears. "That's cheesy." you whisper.
“I know."
"So cheesy."
"I know."
"You practived that just incase, huh.” A tiny smile finally appeared on his face. “Maybe." You laughed again and there it was. The sound he'd been trying to get back all month. He smiled a little wider.
"There's my girl." His hand found yours, slowly turning it over in his own. Without thinking, your fingers tried to hide the pale patch on your wrist.
Michael gently stopped you. He intertwined his fingers with yours instead.
"No more hiding from me." His thumb brushed over the light patch like it was the most normal thing in the world. "You hear me?" You nodded quickly. michael shook his head. “I need to hear you baby.”
"Okay yes.”
"No more hiding."
You took a shaky breath.
"No more hiding."
He smiled, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it, on the patch of skin you'd spent two weeks trying to cover. It’s like he was trying to replace every ounce of shame you'd felt with something softer, something that was safe and warm.
“I’ll always love you baby, no matter what happens. No matter if you’re bald, if you lose a limb or two.. or anything. You’re mine and i’ll always love you just the way you are.” Michael says with a smile before pulling you up and grabbing your chin. He pressed a small yet passionate kiss on your lips.
