ᥫ᭡ devany

𑣲⋆ summary : michael invites you out to a skating rink together, fun and games until he feels something he’s not familiar with when he sees you with another boy.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ jackson five era // pre-off the wall michael jackson x reader

a/n : ts lowkey long but if ur anything like me you’ll eat it up so🤞🏽. also tysm for 100 followers thats so insane omg ily all

four days had now passed, but it didn’t feel like four days. it felt like a week, a month—one of those stretches of time where everything is technically normal except your brain refuses to act normal because it keeps replaying one specific moment on loop.

the call, his voice so soft it could put you to sleep after a sentence, and his quiet laugh—the one where time feels frozen when you hear it.

morning light slipped through the curtains in thin, pale stripes, warming the edge of your pillow. you groaned softly, half-burying your face into the blanket like you could physically hide from the fact that you’d barely slept.

barely slept thinking of him.

you blinked a few times, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to every question your heart kept asking.

and then, like your body remembered before your mind could, you turned your head slightly and saw it.

the cardigan.

his cardigan

draped over the back of the chair near your dresser, hanging there like it belonged, as though it had always been part of your room and had every right to be there.

you still remember the chill left on you when his fingers grazed your skin as he adjusted it, trying to keep you warm.

it was slightly rumpled, sleeves folded in on themselves, still carrying that faint scent of him—clean laundry, something warm and familiar underneath it, almost like vanilla or woody notes.

the room was quiet except for the distant hum of the street outside. somewhere far away, a car passed. somewhere closer, a bird chirped like it was nobody’s business, yet all you could think about was him.

your eyes flicked to the phone on your bedside table. you hadn’t called. he hadn’t called either.

it wasn’t because either of you didn’t want to… but because you were both probably doing the same thing—overthinking it, trying not to seem too eager, pretending you weren’t checking the clock every ten minutes like a maniac.

you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood slowly as your head woozed from the sudden rush of blood to your head. you reached the chair, your fingers brushing the cardigan without thinking—the soft fabric tickling your finger tips.

you lifted it up slightly, holding it in your hands like it was a sacred artifact, and for a second it felt almost ridiculous—how a piece of clothing could make your stomach flip like this. from a boy you met four days ago—your heart doing little cartwheels for absolutely no reason.

no reason… right?

you sighed through your nose, shaking your head as if that would fix the way you were smiling.

“get it together,” you muttered to yourself.

but you didn’t put it away. you left it in your arms, hugging it lightly against your chest like you weren’t even trying to act tough anymore.

a loud, piercing, almost violating ring assaults your ears. sharp and sudden, like it had been waiting for the exact right moment.

you froze in place—your heart literally stopping functioning properly.

another ring insisted itself again.

you rushed to grab it, nearly tripping over your own feet, snatching the receiver like your life depended on it.

“hello?”

there was a pause—a breath.

“hey… it’s me,” a familiar, comforting voice echoed through the receiver.

michael.

his voice was softer than usual, like he was smiling while he spoke, leaning close to the phone just to make it feel more personal.

“i was, uhm, wondering…” he continued, slightly hesitant now, resembling that he was trying to play it cool but failing in the most adorable way possible.

“…would you wanna go out with me? today. like, actually go out. me and you?”

you held the receiver tighter, feeling your cheeks warming at his request.

“what do you mean, go out?” you asked, even though you already knew exactly what he meant.

you could hear him laugh quietly. “i don’t know… i just- i thought maybe we could do something fun,” he said. “there’s this skate rink i’ve been wanting to go to. just to get out, you know?”

your eyes flicked to the cardigan still in your other hand, lips parting slightly as you try to envision it—the music, laughter, the colourful lights.

“i… yeah,” you agree, trying not to sound too excited and absolutely failing. “yeah, i’d really like that.”

on the other end, you could hear his smile. “really?”

“no,” you bluntly spoke sarcastically.

a brief silence was left on the other end of the phone.

“i’m joking. yes, really.” you giggle into the phone, amused how he really thought you were serious.

he let out a breath like he’d been holding it in for days.

“okay,” he said quickly, like he didn’t want you to change your mind. “okay good. i’ll pick you up later, alright?”

you leaned against the headboard, grinning like an idiot.

“alright,” you whisper back to him.

there was a beat of silence, not awkward—just warm and comfortable.

like neither of you wanted to be the one to hang up first.

then michael spoke again, quieter this time.

“hey, um… you still have my cardigan?”

you peer down at it at the end of your bed as you reach to grab it, your fingers tightened around the fabric protectively.

“…maybe,” you teased.

his laugh was instant, sweet and breathy.

“you can keep it,” he said.

you could practically hear the confidence trying to sneak into his voice.

You raised an eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it.

“yeah?”

“mhm,” he hummed. “it looks… better on you than me anyway.”

you glance out the window, a tiny upside down smile painted onto your face as you try to refrain yourself from his flattery, a crimson glow adorning your cheeks.

the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts your thoughts, bringing you back to your thoughts before he begins again.

“anyways, you better be ready to skate. ’cause i’m really good,” he brags.

you snorted at his cocky comment. “uh-huh, that’s what they all say.”

“oh no,” he said, amused. “i’m serious.”

“sure, michael.”

he laughed again, and your heart did that thing where it forgets how to be normal. you don’t know why it has you so giddy, but it does. and you can’t tell if you like that or not.

“alright,” he said. “i’ll see you later.”

“yeah… see you later,” you whispered back to him.

when the call ended with a small beep into your ear, you just sat there, holding the phone. holding his cardigan.

the one he told you to keep.

the one ‘you looked better in anyway’.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

the moment you stepped through the doors of the rink, everything hit you at once—the cold air of the air conditioning, the faint smell of popcorn and soda, the upbeat music thumping through the speakers making the building nearly have its own heartbeat.

lights flashed overhead in flashly colours, bouncing off the shiny floor where people glided past in circles, laughing, stumbling, holding onto each other for dear life. the whole place felt loud and alive, like you’d accidentally walked into a scene from a movie.

and beside you was michael. he looked completely in his element, eyes scanning the rink with this excited little spark, like he was trying not to grin too hard.

you tried not to stare.

keyword : tried.

he leaned slightly closer so you could hear him over the noise. “you ready?”

You swallowed as your snapped out of your moment of admiration, suddenly nervous for no reason. “y-yeah,” you whisper unconvincingly, your stomach feeling like it was doing backflips.

michael smiled. “good.”

you both made your way to the rental counter where the man behind it barely even looked up, uninterested, sliding the skates across with the bored confidence of someone who’d seen a thousand first-timers panic.

you took yours carefully, glancing down at them like they might bite. michael grabbed his pair too, holding them easily in one hand. of course he did.

you walked over to the benches along the wall, royal blue lockers surrounding them, the noise of wheels scraping and people laughing echoing around you. you sat down, setting the skates in front of you and pulling your shoes off and putting them to the side.

you stared down at the skates again, somehow intimidated by the inanimate object like they were designed for your own humiliation.

you slid your foot into the first one and immediately regretted being born. the skate was stiff, awkward, and somehow way smaller than it had looked in your hands. you tugged at the strap, trying to pull it tight, but your fingers fumbled. it wouldn’t click, refusing to cooperate with you—maybe this is a sign. it wouldn’t do anything except make you feel like you’d forgotten how hands worked.

you huffed quietly, cheeks warming.

michael, who had already gotten one skate on like it was nothing, glanced over.

he tilted his head slightly, looking at you with eyebrows furrowed. “you okay?”

you nodded too fast. “yeah. totally. i’m… i’m fine!” almost sounding like you were trying to convince yourself.

he blinked at you, clearly not buying it.

you tried again, yanking at the strap with more force.

it slipped out of your fingers and snapped back. you froze, staring at it in pure disbelief as a feeling of embarrassment fills your chest.

michael’s lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.

“i hate these,” you muttered, avoiding eye contact with him.

what a good start, right?

that was enough to make him laugh softly, the sound warm and sweet, sounding like it belonged in your chest instead of the air.

he leaned closer. “here,” he said gently. “lemme help you.”

before you could protest, he kneeled himself down in front of you—your breath caught.

you didn’t know what to do with your face, or your hands… or your entire existence.

he reached for your skate carefully, his fingers warm as they brushed against your ankle. he didn’t rush nor act annoyed. he just focused, brows slightly furrowed in concentration, lips parted as if he was quietly thinking through it.

you sat there frozen, looking down at him like you’d been hypnotised. he tugged the strap gently, threading it through the buckle with ease.

click.

then he adjusted it again, tightening it just enough, not too much, making sure it sat comfortably. his hands gentle and precise.

your heart was pounding so hard you were genuinely worried he could hear it. michael glanced up for half a second, eyes meeting yours and you swear the world paused.

his expression softened instantly, like he’d just realised how close he was, how intimate it looked—him down there, you sitting above him, your legs angled toward him.

for a moment neither of you spoke.

soon, his eyes flicked away quickly, and he cleared his throat, pretending to focus again.

you could feel your face heating up as moved onto the second skate, repeating the same process. his fingers brushing your foot again, tightening the strap, checking the fit.

you sat completely still, afraid that if you moved even an inch, you’d explode.

once he finished, he gave the front of your skates two quick pats.

“all set,” he proclaimed, voice quiet but pleased, as if he’d accomplished something heroic.

you blinked. “you’re… really good at that.”

he shrugged slightly, smiling like he was trying to act casual, but there was something shy in it too.

“i’ve got my practice.”

you stared at him as he stood up, his movements smooth even in skates, like gravity personally favoured him. he reached out both hands toward you.

“come on,” he affirms. “i’ve got you.”

you hesitated—not because you didn’t want to but because the second your hands slid into his, your brain stopped functioning.

his hands were warm, steady, holding yours like it was nothing.

but it wasn’t nothing, not to you.

he pulled you up gently, helping you rise from the bench.

the second you stood :

oh.

oh no.

your ankles began wobbled instantly, the ground felt wrong—too slick. too fast.

you gasped softly, eyes widening as your feet slid out from under you.

“shit-, michael!”

before you could fully fall, his arms wrapped around you with superhero speed—secure and tight.

one arm around your waist, the other still holding your hand, pulling you close before you could hit the ground.

your body collided lightly against his chest as he kept you up right, safe in his arms.

your breath came out in a shaky rush, gripping onto his shirt without thinking—only focused to not make your ass make contact with the floor.

the music thumped around you, lights flashing, people skating past, but it all felt distant as if the entire rink had blurred into the background.

all you could focus on was him.

his face was close—too close.

you could see every detail of him : the softness of his expression, the way his eyelashes cast faint shadows under the rink lights, the little curve of his mouth as he tried to hide his smile.

“you good?” he asked tenderly, his voice low, almost teasing you.

you look around the rink to look occupied, unable to look him in the eye for more than a second.

“i-, yeah,” you stammered. “i just… i’m not used to skating.”

michael’s smile grew. he tightened his hold slightly, steadying you like it’s his life’s purpose to make sure you don’t fall to the ground again.

“yup,” he said taunts playfully, “i’ve definitely noticed.”

your face burned, lightly hitting his shoulder in retaliation.

“oh my god,” you whispered, mortified, as you trying hide your face into his shoulder to hide the blush adorning your face now. “this is so embarrassing.”

“it isn’t embarrassing,” he said quickly, like he didn’t want you to feel bad. he paused, his eyes flicking down to your hands still clutching him—his cheeks turned the faintest shade darker.

“…it’s kinda cute though.”

your head snapped up nearly immediately at that.

“what?”

michael’s eyes widened like he instantly regretted saying it out loud.

“n-no, nothing,” he said fast, clearing his throat, looking away.

you stared at him, stunned until you felt yourself smile, despite the absolute chaos happening inside your chest.

he looked back at you again, softer this time.

“come on,” he declares, squeezing your hands gently. “i’m not gonna let you fall.”

you hesitated, still shaky and flustered as you were painfully aware of how close he was, but when he started guiding you forward—slow, careful, patient you followed.

because somehow, with michael holding you like that the rink didn’t feel so scary anymore.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

as soon as your feet made contact with the slippery floor of the rink, you didn’t hesitate to grip onto michael again as you pull yourself flush against him and bury your face into his chest, like if you couldn’t see the rink you couldn’t get hurt.

michael’s chest vibrates under your head as he begins to laugh, peering down at you only to be met with the top of your head.

“hey, hey, hey. you’re fine, i told you, i’m not gonna letting you fall,” he whisper down to me comfortingly.

he guides us to the edge, his hands still steady on you like you were something delicate.

the music echoed around the rink, loud enough to make your heart beat in time with it, and the coloured lights flickered across the polished floor. people skating glided past in a blur—laughing, spinning, moving like they’d been born with wheels on their feet.

you, however, were one wrong move away from meeting the ground in the most humiliating way possible.

michael slowed down as you reached the side of the rink, letting you press closer to the barrier. you immediately reached for it with one hand, gripping it so tightly your knuckles almost turned white.

he glanced at you, amusement still lingering in his eyes.

“you’re holdin’ onto that wall like it owes you money,” he teased softly.

you lifted your head just enough to glare at him, though your expression didn’t hold for long.

“i don’t trust it,” you mumbled.

michael chuckled again, shaking his head. “you don’t trust the wall?”

“i dont trust… anything,” you corrected, looking down at your skates like they were personally plotting against you.

michael’s smile softened. he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping as if it was just for you.

“okay,” he starts, gentle. “we’re not gonna do anything crazy. jus’… little steps. that’s all.”

you nodded slowly, swallowing. michael stepped behind you, careful not to rush, his presence warm and close. you felt him shift, the air changing when he got nearer, suddenly your whole body aware of him.

he reached around you carefully, his hands hovering at your sides for a second—like he wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with it before he rested them lightly on your waist, helping you stay steady.

it wasn’t romantic, not really. but it was michael, and you were nervous, and your heart apparently didn’t know the difference.

“is this okay?” he asked quietly.

you nodded again, a little too fast. “yeah.”

“alright,” he said, sounding pleased. “now don’t look down at your feet.”

you immediately looked down at your feet.

michael let out a small laugh behind you. “you’re lookin’ down.”

“i can’t help it,” you muttered, voice small.

he leaned closer, his chin almost brushing your shoulder. “look forward,” he instructed.

you could feel the warmth of his breath when he talked against your neck. “if you look down, you’ll feel more scared. jus’ trust me.”

you hesitated before you slowly lifted your gaze to the rink ahead. the lights blurred slightly, the world seeming too wide and slippery. michael’s hands stayed firm on your waist, grounding you.

“okay,” he murmured. “now… bend your knees a little.”

you frowned,” why?”

“because if you stand straight, you’ll fall faster,” he explained.

“well, that’s… comforting,” you deadpanned.

michael laughed again, a real laugh this time. “okay but i’m serious. jus’ a little bend.”

you did as he said, knees shaking slightly.

“there you go,” he said softly. “now we’re gonna start with marching.”

“marching? didn’t realise this was military training.”

“mhm,” he hummed. “jus’ lift your feet up one at a time. small steps. like you’re walkin’.”

you tried before your right skate lifted a centimetre before it wobbled and slapped back down, causing you to stiffen instantly. michael’s hands tightened just a little, keeping you balanced.

“good,” he encouraged. “tha’s it. now do it again.”

you lifted the other foot, shaky but slightly better. your movements were slow and awkward, like a baby deer learning to walk. you continued to march forward a few steps, still clinging to the barrier with one hand.

“see?” michael said. “you’re doin’ it.”

you glanced back at him over your shoulder. “uh-huh, barely.”

“but you are,” he insisted, giving you a small smile. he gently nudged your hand away from the wall causing you to panic instantly.

“no, no, no. michael!-“

“hey,” he soothed quickly. “i’m right here. i’m not lettin’ go.”

your hand hovered in the air uselessly, fingers trembling as they wanted to grab the wall again.

michael’s voice lowered, calm and steady. “trust me, okay?”

you didn’t answer, but you didn’t grab the wall again either. his hands moved slightly, one staying at your waist while the other slid down to your forearm, guiding your arm forward.

“now, push off gently. just one foot, then glide.”

you stared ahead like the floor was about to swallow you whole. you pushed with one foot—suddenly you moved. it wasn’t much, barely a glide, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

your body jolted forward and your arms flailed instinctively. michael reacted immediately, pressing closer behind you, his chest almost against your back now.

he steadied you with ease, voice right by your ear. “hey-hey, you’re okay. you’re fine,” he repeated.

you breathing came out uneven, managing another push, a little stronger this time causing you to glided again.

for a second… it actually felt kind of smooth.

you blinked, surprised, “oh.”

michael chuckled. “y’see? that’s glidin’.”

you gave a small, shaky laugh. “i’m literally terrified.”

“i know,” he said, but his tone was warm, almost proud. “but you’re still doin’ it.”

you continued, pushing gently, then gliding, pushing again with michael staying behind you the whole time, his hands guiding you with a softness that made you feel safe. you could mess up a hundred times and he still wouldn’t get annoyed.

every so often you’d wobble, and every time you did, he caught you before you could even fall, as though he’d already predicted it, like he’d memorised your balance before you even found it yourself.

after a few shaky minutes, you realised something. you weren’t clinging to him as tightly anymore, shoulders not as stiff. your feet still felt weird and nervous, but you weren’t completely helpless.

michel leaned slightly closer, voice low, “you’re getting better,” he urged.

you swallowed, cheeks warm. “i’m only better because you’re holding me.”

he hummed thoughtfully. “well… i can let go for a second if you want.”

you head whipped around, “no.”

michael burst out laughing, his laughter bright and boyish, echoing against the walls.

“you said you wanted to learn!” he teased.

“i do,” you insisted, flustered. “but I don’t want to get hospitalised either!”

“that’s not gonna happen,” he promised, still laughing.

you muttered, “that’s what they all say.”

michael shook his head, grin lingering, and guided you forward again.

“okay,” his voice gentler now. “we’ll go slow. just remember to keep your knees bent, keep your body relaxed, and let the skates do the work, yeah?”

as the music carried on around you, and the lights flickered above, you realised you were actually moving.

not gracefully.

not impressively.

but you were doing it.

and every time you started to slip, michael was right there behind you without fail, steady hands at your waist, keeping you upright like it was the easiest thing in the world.

you didn’t know what was more embarrassing ; the fact that you couldn’t skate, or the fact that being this close to him was making your heart act like it had never experienced a normal emotion before.

michael’s voice came again, soft against your ear, “you’re doin’ so good,” he whispered softly.

you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head, “i feel like a newborn giraffe.”

michael snorted. “a cute newborn giraffe.”

you both froze—a pause hanging in the air.

michael cleared his throat quickly, pretending nothing happened, tightened his grip just slightly as he guided you onward.

“okay,” he said, voice higher now, like he was trying to recover. “now we’re gonna try turnin’.”

your eyes widened in horror. “no, no, no, no,” you begged

“oh yes,” he said, laughing again. “c’mon. you got it, i know y’do.”

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

forty minutes had now gone by since michael taught you how to skate, and you were beginning to get the hang of it.

you obviously weren’t great… but you weren’t as bad as you were either.

“hey, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. you gonna be okay?” michael asked as he approached behind you, placing his hands lightly on your waist as he moved his mouth close to your ear so you could hear him over the mixture of loud laughs from other skaters and the booming music from the speakers.

“yeah, i should be,” you reply as you look around you for any upcoming people on the rink.

“alright, i’ll be quick. i promise,” he said before gliding over to the exit of the rink.

you continued to, attempt, to glide, before suddenly a large figure appears in front of you abruptly—startling you.

in your attempt to stop to avoid crashing into them, you fall to the floor with a thud, a groan emitting out of you at the harsh clunk.

“shit, i’m so sorry. are you okay?” a deep voice enquired worriedly, immediately reaching out to you and helping you get up from the floor, holding onto your waist steadily and gliding you to the wall—out of everyone’s way.

“i think so…” you question yourself before gazing up at the boy in front of you, his eyes meeting yours with worry.

“i couldn’t stop and suddenly i was flying down the rink into you. i’m really sorry, it’s my first time skating,” he ranted profusely as he tries to explain himself.

you laugh lightly, “you’re alright, it’s my first time too.”

you both talked a little before deciding to skate side by side, holding onto each others arm when someone felt like they were going to fall.

michael comes out of the bathroom, wiping the remaining dampness of his hands onto his jeans. as his gaze scanned around the rink to find you, they landed on you… with him.

he slows, like his body forgets how to move for a second.

the boy is close, too close. leaning in as if he has the right, smiling down at you. you’re laughing at whatever he’s saying, gripping his sleeve when you almost slip.

michael’s fingers twitch at his side, something pressing down on his chest, heavy and uncomfortable, his jaw tightening without meaning to. he watches you stumble slightly, and the boy catching you immediately, hand wrapping around your waist for balance.

michael’s expression darkens. he doesn’t know why, he just knows he hates it.

without thinking, he steps onto the rink again, skates scraping against the slick flooring as he pushes forward. his movements are quick, direct, purposeful—like he’s on a mission. the closer he gets, the louder he can hear your laughter, and the worse that strange feeling in his chest becomes.

“michael!” you call, waving slightly.

the boy beside you glances over too, eyes bright with curiosity, like michael is just another background character in whatever moment he thinks he’s having with you.

michael reaches you in seconds, stopping sharply.

“hey,” you greet, still catching your breath. “i didn’t know you were back already.”

michael doesn’t look at you first, he looks at him. his gaze dropping to the boy’s arm where your fingers are still hooked. his eyes flick back up, cold and flat.

the boy, oblivious, grins. “oh, hey man. you’re her friend?”

michael’s grip tightens around the sides of his vest. his mouth twitches, almost like he wants to smile… but it doesn’t happen. instead, he turns to you.

“our hour’s nearly up,” he tells you, voice calm, but edged with something sharp underneath. “we should go.”

you blink. “what? already?”

michael nods once as if the decision has been made by someone more important than both of you.

“yeah.”

the boy chuckles lightly. “damn, time flies. i was just helping her out. she’s actually really good.”

you scoff, playfully. “i am not. i almost ate floor like three times.”

michael’s eyes flick to the boy again. “yet you’re still standing,” he mutters.

the boy laughs again, pushing a hand through his hair. “i’m ethan, by the way.” he guides his attention back toward you, still smiling like he’s got confidence spilling out of his pockets. “you should give me your number. we could come skating again sometime.”

you hesitate, your lips parting like you might actually consider it until michael moves before you even get the chance.

he steps closer, just enough that he’s suddenly between you and ethan, like a wall you didn’t ask for.

“she’s okay,” he glares.

ethan’s smile falters slightly, eyes flicking between you and michael. “uh… alright. i was only asking.”

michael doesn’t respond or explain. he simply reaches for your wrist—firm but not rough and gently tugs at it.

“come on.”

you stumble forward slightly, caught off guard, skates scraping. “michael, wait.”

you glance back at ethan, offering him an awkward, apologetic look. “‘m sorry. it was nice meeting you.”

ethan gives you a small wave, still confused. “yeah… you too.”

michael doesn’t even look back, he just guides you toward the edge of the rink, jaw locked like he’s biting down on something. the second you reach the side and step off, you yank your hand out of his grip.

“what the hell was that?” you snap as you glare at him.

michael turns toward you, blinking as if he forgot you could talk back.

“what was what?”

“oh my God.” You throw your hands up. “don’t play dumb. you literally shut him down like he was some kind of threat.”

michael exhales through his nose, almost scoffing, but it doesn’t sound amused, more irritated.

“i didn’t shut him down.”

“you absolutely did.” you point back toward the rink. “he asked for my number and you cut him off, answering for me.”

michael shrugs, acting casual, but his shoulders are stiff. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, incredulous. “michael, that was so rude.”

his eyes flicker for a second—something unreadable passing through them before he looks away, jaw tightening again.

“he didn’t need your number.”

you stare at him. “and why do you get to decide that?”

michael’s lips part slightly before closing again. he didn’t have an answer that doesn’t sound insane, because the truth is, he doesn’t even know why his body reacted like that. he doesn’t know why seeing you smiling at someone else made his stomach twist, why watching you cling to ethan’s arm felt like someone had grabbed him by the ribs and squeezed.

it was something sour and unfamiliar.

he drags a hand down his face, frustrated with himself more than anyone. “i just… he was annoying.”

you narrow your eyes. “he was being nice.”

michael lets out a humourless laugh. “uh-huh. nice.”

you cross your arms, still glaring at him. “you’re acting weird.”

“am not.”

“you are.”

michael meets your eyes again and for a second, his expression softens, like something in him flickers. a tiny crack in the coldness.

he looks away again, hating the fact he’s even being confronted.

“i… just wanna go,” he mutters.

you don’t budge. “you could’ve just let me handle it.”

michael’s throat bobs as he swallows. he thinks back about the way you were laughing, the way you looked at ethan like you actually enjoyed being around him, and how ethan’s hand touched your waist so easily like it belonged there.

his voice comes out lower this time, more controlled. “i didn’t want him bothering you.”

you blink, thrown off slightly. “bothering me? i wasn’t bothered.”

michael’s eyes flick back to yours, something almost restless in them that he’s trying to shove down.

“well,” he mutters, “i was.”

the words slip out before he can stop them with a beat of silence following it.

you stare at him, confusion swirling across your face. “you were… bothered?”

michael’s whole body goes tense when he realises what he just admitted, even if it doesn’t fully make sense. his pride kicks in immediately, like an alarm going off in his head.

he clears his throat and steps back slightly, shaking his head. “forget it.”

you tilt your head, studying him now, your anger fading into something more curious but michael refuses to meet your eyes. if he does, he might see something there that makes it harder to pretend—harder to lie to himself.

he doesn’t understand why his chest feels tight. why his skin feels too warm under his coat. why the thought of you giving your number to some random guy makes his stomach churn.

he’d never cared before.

so why now?

why you?

michael’s grabs his shoes out of the locker and shoves them into his hands, voice clipped. “come on. let’s go.”

you hesitate, still looking at him like you’re trying to figure him out before you sigh and start untying your skates.

michael turns away, pretending to focus on his own laces, but his mind is spinning. he keeps replaying the image of you with ethan, laughing, holding onto him.

and the worst part?

it isn’t the boy.

it’s the fact you looked happy—and not with him.

he swallows hard, staring down at his skates, brows furrowed like he’s angry at the rink itself because he doesn’t know what this feeling is.

but he knows he doesn’t want to feel it again.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

yous both walk out in silence, not meeting each other’s eyes. your arms were crossed in front of you in a huff at his outburst.

he eventually breaks the silence, “look, i’m sorry okay? i am.”

you glance at him as he’s looking forward. you notice something deep in his eyes, yet you couldn’t place a finger on it.

annoyance?

sadness?

confusion?

you couldn’t tell, but something was there.

your eyebrows furrow at the saddened look appearing across his face—his features, usually gentle and elated now appeared gloomy.

“it’s okay, michael.” you speak, placing your hand delicately on his arm as you look at him with a small smile in an attempt to comfort him.

“i know you, i know you didn’t mean that to hurt anyone.”

he glanced down at you, embarrassed.

“i don’t know what happened, i just… i didn’t like him.”

you give him a half smile before removing you hands from your arm.

the loss of your warm touch left him almost… disappointed? like he wanted you to keep it there forever.

michael continued to stand in silence as yous waited for one of his drivers to pick yous up around the back of the building.

he kept thinking back to the feeling he felt when he say you and ethan together.

it wasn’t a feeling he encountered usually, let alone at all. so it left him wondering, what was so different about you to that you had such of an effect on him in there.

“i enjoy myself today,” you say, looking down at the pavement before playfully nudging yourself into his side to try cheer him up.

“yeah, me too… you still suck at skating though,” he teases to lighten the mood.

“well, you were the teacher so maybe it’s a you thing,” you wink back at him, earning his signature laugh.

(sry idk how to end this but im sure u get the gist😛.)

tags : @wondergotham @kietourhrt @xxxercess @ceeriusly-dumb @melynex @sscrumertt @lov3lylxvender @darkgreengrl @frangiipanii @starliqhtsworld @izluvsyou

GTFO YOU AINT MY DAD.

Someone PLEASE write for adult zuko

he looks too good in the movie

HIGURUMA HIROMI

呪術廻戦 THE CULLING GAME: Pt. 1 Ep. 08: