You're still Applehead || Michael x reader ||
Synopsis: Your childhood best friend moved away without warning. Years later, he comes back...but you're already in a relationship, leaving you in an impossible position. Right person, wrong time.
Theme: Romance, Angst, Longing, Childhood friends-to-lovers, Temporary unrequited love.
Content warning: brief mentions of eating problems
Tag for my angel: @botdfaholic (forgive me, My sweets. This has part one and two! I added: ⟡ to mark where part 2 begins so you don't have to reread part one)
꒰ა𑣲໒꒱ pairing: Michael x Reader
꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎
Confetti and streamers rained down on you as your parents celebrated your 7th birthday. The colorful confetti covered your vision for a moment, and happiness lit up your face. Despite not having any friends show up to the party, your siblings and parents made sure you still had fun.
Your pink plastic fork dug into the moist, delightful slice of cake you were offered, and frosting coated your mouth and cheeks as you ate, completely lost in your own world.
Once the party was over and your siblings were complaining under their breath while cleaning up the mess, you decided to go outside and play. "Mama! I'm going outside to play!" you shouted while putting your shoes on.
You held the doorknob, looking into the house as you waited for her approval.
"Be back before it gets dark!"
At the sound of her voice, you pushed the door open and ran onto the sidewalk.
You didn't have many toys, but you did get a brand-new, colorful set of chalk to play with. You drew on the sidewalk absentmindedly when a pair of small feet appeared in your line of vision. Looking up and squinting against the hot sun, you saw a boy who looked to be around your age. He rubbed the back of his neck while shyly mumbling something to you.
"Pardon... I didn't hear you," you said as you stood up. "Can I play with you?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with hesitation. You took his hand and nodded once.
"Yeah! You wanna draw with me?" The boy's face immediately lit up when you agreed, and he nodded enthusiastically.
The two of you sat down on the grass and drew all over the sidewalk. He drew a map to Neverland and took you on an adventure, climbing trees and playing pretend as if he were Peter Pan and you were his Tinker Bell.
You learned his name was Michael, the boy who lived next door to you. Every afternoon, you would knock on his door and wait for him to come outside so the two of you could play.
Adventures to Neverland became the norm. Climbing trees and telling each other secrets were things only the two of you did.
One afternoon, you told him that you didn't have many friends, feeling insecure about your lack of them, only for him to quietly admit the same thing.
Shocked, you quickly exclaimed, "How? You're kind and funny, and your hairstyle looks great on you!"
He got flustered and stammered, "Yeah... that's not what I meant."
You tilted your head in confusion. "Then what do you mean?" He kept looking away before finally meeting your eyes.
"Well... last night was actually the first show I ever did. I'm in the Jackson 5 now... on... Motown 25..." His voice kept fading as insecurity and fear filled him. He was afraid that once you found out he was an up-and-coming star, you'd view him differently.
Your brows furrowed before it finally clicked.
Silence stretched between the two of you. You felt knots form in your stomach. One of your biggest insecurities, and the reason you didn't have many friends, was because your parents weren't the wealthiest. Every time you tried to make friends, they would talk about cartoon channels you couldn't afford. The kids at school thought you were strange for never talking about cartoons, choosing instead to read books, which they found boring.
Tears stung the corners of your eyes as you looked down at your lap and quietly muttered,
"I don't have cable... We only have four channels... Motown 25 isn't one of them."
You sniffled, unable to look at him.
You glanced up at him, believing you were about to lose him, that he no longer wanted to be your friend. Gathering your courage, you quietly asked,
"Well... does it matter? ...Can I still be your friend?" Michael blinked, startled that not only did you not care, but you still wanted to be his friend. His head nodded so quickly you thought it might fall off.
"Ye-yeah!" His voice cracked with excitement, and he immediately looked away, completely flustered. You tried to hold back your laughter but ended up giggling, which only made him laugh too.
"Pinky promise, Mikey? No matter how big of a star you become... we'll still be friends?"
Before you could even finish your promise, his pinky was already linked around yours.
Despite your hangouts becoming less frequent now that Michael was working night and day, he was either at school or practicing for a show.
You started rebelling, desperate to see him.
Once night had completely fallen and your house was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, you would climb out of your window and tap on Michael's.
Michael was practicing his dance moves alone in his room when he heard a rhythmic tapping against the glass. He glanced back, a little frightened, thinking it might be one of the night monsters his brothers always tried to scare him with.
His shoulders tensed all the way up to his ears, but the moment he saw your wide eyes peeking through the window, he let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Wh-What are you doing?" he squeaked, afraid of waking his father. You simply gestured for him to open the window, your toes beginning to ache from standing on them for so long.
He pushed the window open before grabbing your hands and pulling you inside with all his strength. The two of you ended up tripping and tumbling onto his bedroom floor, but you didn't care. You only smiled brightly.
"Michael!" you exclaimed, but he quickly shushed you.
"Shh! They're all asleep!"
Blushing in embarrassment, you nodded and kept your mouth shut.
This soon became a ritual.
Before a show or gig, Michael would tell you to come over because he would only have the night before as a day off. So, you would sneak over to his window, and the two of you would quietly play card games, trying your hardest to hold back your laughter.
Sometimes, the two of you would hide beneath his blankets and read more Peter Pan stories together. Some nights, Michael would grow unusually quiet. You had become so observant that you could tell he was dealing with emotions far bigger than himself.
Those nights stood out the most. All you would do was hold him, and eventually, he would wrap his arms around you too. Neither of you needed to say a word. Holding each other was enough, it was exactly what you both needed.
As time went on, it became harder and harder to meet up. Michael would travel far away for shows and return days later. Sometimes, he couldn't even tell you where he was going. The distance between you grew, and so did your sadness.
You would wake up in the middle of the night and cry softly into your hands, staying as quiet as possible so you wouldn't wake anyone.
One afternoon, you saw Michael and his family packing their things. You ran toward them, hoping to catch up to Michael and maybe ask his parents if the two of you could hang out.
The look on his face made your heart sink. He already looked defeated before he even spoke the words that made your whole world tilt.
"We're moving... to Encino."
You couldn't help but feel as though your whole world was caving in. You had just started believing that he was going to be your best friend for the rest of your life, not for just six short years.
"...Why? But... you'll come back to Indiana, right?"
Michael stayed quiet, giving a small shake of his head. He was too afraid to see the look on your face.
For someone so young, you never expected to experience such a deep sadness. After he left, you didn't want to go outside anymore. You grew quieter, pushed food around your plate, and left your books untouched. Your parents grew more worried with each passing day.It was difficult for them as well, watching their bright little girl become so dim.
The loneliness was what stayed with you.
Although you had his new house phone number, it was nearly impossible to get an answer from either him or his parents. You left countless voice messages, only receiving one in return every month or so. As the years passed, even those stopped coming.
You hadn't seen Michael since he moved away.
But when you finally reached high school, your parents were able to buy you a radio for your 16th birthday. You were overjoyed and immediately ran to your room. Plugging the radio in, you immediately started searching for that unmistakable sweet voice, the one you would recognize anywhere.
Then the radio clicked onto a station, and you heard him.
"One day in your life, you'll remember a place / Someone touching your face, do you believe she was true to you?"
You stayed frozen on your bed.
Those lyrics felt familiar.
Were you still... in his memories?
"One Day in Your Life" became your comfort song. You would always hope it would start playing whenever you missed him too much. You wondered if he was still the same.
He definitely sounded the same, just more mature and sure of himself.
You only caught glimpses of him in newspapers or through your friends' magazines. You started saving your lunch money to buy The Jacksons magazines, reading every page as a way to feel connected to him. There were little stories about him and his brothers, what they liked, what they hated, their type in girls, what they liked to eat, and what they did during breaks.
You already knew most of the things Michael would say. Reading the interviews only confirmed what you already believed.
He was still that tree-climbing Peter Pan from your childhood.
Though sadness gnawed at your heart, you couldn't help but feel like just another fan in love with a celebrity, even though you knew Michael's secrets and insecurities. It felt so incredibly unfair that the world had swept your dearest friend away from you.
You moved out of Gary, indiana after you graduated from high school and went on to college, majoring in accounting. It wasn't really what you wanted, but it was stable enough to build a future. Michael's career only continued to flourish with each passing day. He was loved by millions.
In private, you tried to move on and even explored your sexuality. You went on blind dates and even let your new friends play matchmaker. But whenever you were with someone, your mind always wandered back to Michael.
Eventually, you convinced yourself that second best was all you'd ever have.
You knew how much Michael had wanted this life, and you couldn't help but feel proud that he was living his dream.
During finals season, while you sat with your head in your hands, an upbeat, funky disco rhythm burst from your radio. Frustrated by the pressure of college, you got up to turn it off, only to hear Michael's unmistakable voice.
"Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough."
It was him. You'd recognize that voice anywhere.
As the years passed, you only saw Michael through magazines and interviews. Whenever you missed him too much, you would replay his old voice messages just to hear him again.
Eventually, you caved in.
You decided to buy his album as a form of closure. He was worlds away from your ordinary life.
You picked it up, staring at his face on the cover. You didn't feel sadness anymore.
It was something different. Something you couldn't quite name. You wandered through the aisles of the music store, absentmindedly running your fingers along the edges of the records. The sound of hurried footsteps and the rapid clicking of camera shutters caught your attention.
You glanced toward the growing crowd, wondering what all the commotion was about. As you made your way toward the bright flashes and excited voices, you saw him.
Your eyes widened the moment they landed on him.
He was smiling, signing autographs for fans, and posing for pictures, completely in his element. Suddenly, you felt shy, clutching his album tightly against your chest.
Then his eyes met yours. His smile slowly faded as recognition dawned on his face.
He remembered you. Immediately, he started walking toward you, reaching out his hand. But the fans misunderstood and began grabbing at his hands and arms, believing he was reaching out to them instead.
The crowd quickly became too overwhelming, and his security rushed in to pull him away. Even as he was being escorted through the crowd, he never took his eyes off you. You watched him try to tell someone that he needed to get to you, but his words were swallowed by the chaos.
Eventually, the crowd either followed after him or dispersed, leaving you standing there as everything returned to the ordinary life you were used to.
Your heart hammered in your chest.
You had been so close to him.
You returned to your dorm completely dazed, unsure of what to make of the fact that you had just seen him...
And that he recognized you.
You stared at the album in your hands, a wave of shyness washing over you.
That was more special than anything.
You tried to focus on your studies, you really did, but how could you when he had reached his hand out to you?
On the morning of your last final, you woke up late.
You rushed toward the exam hall, bumping into people and repeatedly smashing the elevator buttons. Eventually, you gave up and sprinted up the stairs, nearly tripping over your own feet.
You stumbled into the exam hall out of breath, your heart pounding as you clutched your pen and tried to focus on the paper in front of you.
Unbeknownst to you, over the past few days since your encounter with Michael, he had been trying to reach you the entire time.
He called your parents' house, your college, and your dormitory. When his call finally connected to your phone, you weren't there to answer it.
With a heavy heart, he left you a voice message, asking if the two of you could meet somewhere private. He wanted to reconnect before he had to say goodbye again.
Exhausted and completely spent, you returned to your dormitory and flopped onto your bed.
You noticed the dorm phone blinking, signaling that a voice message was waiting for you.
Assuming it was your parents asking when you'd be coming home for summer break, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, Michael paced back and forth, wondering when you would call him back. But once the clock struck 2 a.m., he reluctantly gave up and headed to the studio.
The next morning came far too quickly.
Peeling your tired eyes open, you reached forward and picked up the house phone, wanting to listen to the voice message before you forgot.
As the static faded and the beep sounded, you heard a familiar, nervous laugh.
Um... I was wondering if maybe we could meet up somewhere? Possibly tomorrow night? We could see a movie... It'd be really nice to catch up with you...
So, I can call you tomorrow and check if you're free... y'know, before I have to say goodbye for the Victory Tour.
I'll tell you all about it tomorrow...
Thank you... and goodnight."
You shot upright the moment you heard his voice through the phone. You were completely stunned. Not only had he found you, but he had called you... and you had slept through it.
You nervously got to your feet and looked through your closet, too afraid to call him back just yet.
You picked out an outfit before pacing back and forth around your small dorm room.
Do I call him now? No... he's busy. He's literally a star. He's not just Applehead anymore, he's Michael Jackson. I can't just casually call him... can I?
You reached for the phone, found his number, and dialed it.
The ringing felt agonizingly slow, making your stomach twist into knots.
Please leave a message after the tone.
You sighed and decided to keep it short.
"Hey... uh... yeah! I'd love to see a movie tonight. Just... call me back whenever you're free.
You gently placed the phone back on its receiver, sighing to yourself at yet another missed opportunity to speak with him.
Once night had fallen, you waited by the phone anxiously, determined not to miss his call again. At the very first ring, you picked it up so quickly that you accidentally smacked the receiver against your ear.
"Hi, sweetheart. When are you coming home to visit?" You hated that you were disappointed that it was your worried mother.
"...Mom... uh... I don't know... Can I call you back? I have something urgent."
"No, nothing! I... just... I'll call you back!"
"Dear, if you're in trouble—"
You hung up on your mother.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you nearly jumped when the phone rang again. You quickly picked it up, holding your breath, worried it might be your mother calling back.
"Hi, It's me... Michael." He said shyly and you nervously replied. "Hi Michael..." he nervously repeated himself. "Hi... it's been a while." Your palms were sweating and you felt hot and cold at the same time.
"Yeah... yeah, you could say that." He cleared his throat.
"So... how's life been?" You shrugged not sure what to really say.
"Haha... uh... I saw you at the record store. I thought you were still in Gary, so I tried calling your house there..."
Before either of you realized it, you had spent hours on the phone. The movie had completely slipped your minds as the conversation flowed effortlessly, as though you'd never been apart.
"Michael! The movie! Shouldn't we go?"
His own gasp came through the receiver.
"Yeah! The movie! I'll come pick you up! Don't worry!"
He hung up, and you stared at the phone in disbelief.
You quickly snapped out of it, got dressed, and rushed out of your dormitory building. You waited on the sidewalk, wondering if you'd even recognize his car.
Then you saw a Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit pull up and stop beside you. Michael rolled the window down, leaned over, and opened the passenger door for you.
You climbed inside and sat beside him nervously. The two of you looked at each other for a moment before smiling brightly and pulling each other into a tight embrace.
The feeling took you right back to when he used to hug you while the two of you sat on tree branches or when he'd help pull you up onto a higher one.
When you finally let go, Michael signaled to his chauffeur to drive to the theater.
The two of you exchanged awkward glances before laughing softly.
Finally, Michael broke the silence.
"Um... you look... pretty." His cheeks visibly reddened.
"Thank you... you too. Fancy car... and a chauffeur..." you trailed off looking around the cars interior. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yeah... yeah... all fancy."
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Somehow, talking face-to-face felt much harder than talking over the phone.
After a moment, he quietly spoke.
"I never meant to break our promise. I really did try to keep in touch."
You nodded, smiling softly.
Almost instinctively, the two of you reached for each other's hands, intertwining your fingers just like you used to.
Michael told you all about Thriller and the upcoming tour, while you told him about college and what it had been like moving away from home.
You talked the entire way to the theater.
The only thing capable of silencing your nonstop chatter was the movie's opening music.
Throughout the film, Michael kept stealing little glances at you.
Eventually, he pretended to stretch, lifting his arms over his head before awkwardly resting one around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer. You smiled at his shy attempt to keep you near and rested your head against him.
After the movie ended and the lights came back on, Michael turned toward you. The two of you simply looked at each other, quietly taking in how much the other had changed.
His eyes flickered down to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to yours.
Slowly, he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.
You were just about to close your eyes and accept his affection when guilt stabbed you sharply in the stomach.
You swallowed hard before quietly blurting out,
⟡ Michael stopped and leaned back into his chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I...you didn't tell me...uh...how's it...going?" You swallowed your nerves, your throat having gone dry and feeling a tightness in your chest at his saddened expression. "It's only been a few months...maybe 2..."He nodded his head, not looking at you, biting the inside of his cheek, "Mhm." He seemed disappointed. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. All of a sudden the theater felt stuffy and too small. He cleared his throat and said, "Let me drive you home; it's late." He got up quickly, and you scurried behind him.
Was he upset? Was he mad at you for being in a relationship? You couldn't tell what was going on in his mind. He opened the car door for you and let you in before getting in himself. The car ride was strikingly different from the ride before. He didn't look at you as much, only glanced once or twice to make sure you were ok and not too cold.
"I'm dating someone" felt like poison in a well while you both thirsted.
Once the car stopped at your dormitory building you wanted nothing more than to escape from the car as if it were burning. You pushed open the car door while muttering a quiet goodbye to him. You walked away with your head down, feeling disappointment linger in your emotions. Were you disappointed by the fact that you were in a relationship? Or disappointed that he couldn't kiss you? Well, both answers were similar.
You felt guilty for trapping your partner into a relationship where you weren't fully in yourself. You knew you could put more effort in; you did move on from Michael. Well, at least you thought you did. You didn't believe that you could have fallen for him while he was away. You made it to your dorm room in a daze; you kicked your shoes off and sat on the edge of your bed. The urge to call him made you mindlessly start to dial his number. You placed the receiver in your ear, your fingers reaching for the dials, only for Michael's voice to be heard.
Your heart hammered hard; you weren't expecting him to call you, let alone for your timings to be in unison.
"How funny," you said with fake confidence.
"I just wanted to check in on you... you made it safe to your dorm?" You felt shy; your partner never called your dorm to check in on you, only dropping you off. "Yeah, I'm in my dorm..."
You could hear the small sigh of relief in his voice. "That's good. I wanted to apologise as well... I didn't mean to end our night on a sour note... I'm sorry."
You fidgeted with a phone cord nervously. "It's alright..." but it wasn't, but what could you have possibly said that wouldn't make you sound hypocritical.
"Can we still hang out as friends?"
A cold wave of relief flushed over you as you nodded your head. "Yeah, of course. You pinky promised after all," he chuckled a little. "Yeah, I did. I'm going to keep it." When the call ended there were many unspoken words and feelings lingering on both ends. Michael only stared at the phone, upset he didn't try harder to find you and make you his while he had the time.
Michael was always in love with you. His brothers teased him for liking you when you both were kids. But in his mind you were an angel sent from heaven just for him. You inspired many of his romantic songs. Your sweet face would always appear in his mind when he was writing; you were also his muse. Whenever he felt stuck or couldn't get the right words out, the memory of you would soothe his mind and the muse would pour out of him.
Michael lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling lost in his thoughts. He wasn't just upset; he felt grief. He always wanted you by his side; he never wanted fame to take him away from you. He mourned deeply what you two had and could have had. His heart ached painfully because now you were here but not in the way he wanted. He should be happy for you for moving forward in your life for finding love but that left a bitter taste in his mouth. It wasn't bittersweet; it was disgustingly loathsome bitterness.
The sickness twisted in his stomach making him toss and turn in bed. He wanted to hear your voice again; he wanted to be selfish but as he reached for the phone to dial you up the image of you lying in your partner's arms made his face sour completely. It sat in the pit of his stomach, churning away at his abdomen like a live virus. He wasn't the jealous type; he was the mourning type.
You were no better, tossing and turning more than he was. Your relationship wasn't something you went into just for the sake of it. You were already committed; you didn't want to be selfish and back out now; that was unfair, hypocritical, and unlike you.
You always prided yourself for being fiercely loyal to the people you love; now said pride was being challenged.
Love was a complicated thing. You were torn between the relationship you had built and the man you feared might be the love of your life.
You did like Michael; fear held you back. His fame, his father, his growing fans. You felt as though you didn't deserve him but now it all felt like you lost your chance. You wondered how his lips would have felt against yours if you didn't confess your relationship. You wondered, would you have been in his arms right now instead of on an empty bed? Those thoughts circled your head, mixing guilt and longing in your chest. Why did he have to go and make things so complicated? The early morning light shone through your blinds; you had stayed up all night conflicted by your situation.
Desperately not wanting to face the day, you pulled the covers over your head, hiding away and letting the exhaustion settle in. You didn't realise you had fallen asleep till you felt a hand gently pull the covers away from you and your partner's familiar voice speaking. "You awake? You overslept... it's the afternoon."
You groaned and opened your eyes; looking at your partner made the shame twist at your heart. Sluggishly sitting up, you rubbed your eyes.
"I wanna take you out on a date today... since you finished finals." Now the guilt only felt painful. You smiled politely. "Where are you gonna take me?" Your partner smiled and sat next to you, wrapping their arm around your shoulder, pulling you in. It reminded you of how Michael pulled you in at the movies last night, how gentle and shy his action was; you smiled at the memory, then looked at your significant other. "I wanna take you out for lunch, get you some cake and maybe spoil you with a milkshake." You laughed shyly, nodding; you couldn't stop the thought of, "If I was with Michael he would have surprised me and said lunch, not act like he was spoiling me with a slice of cake or a drink."
You got dressed for your lunch date; while doing your makeup, your significant other admired you, complimenting your beauty and kissing your skin every now and then. You felt shy; you wondered if Michael would have gone the same. Would he have had you sitting on his lap while you applied your blush, or would he have kissed your lips making it impossible to put on your lipgloss? Would Michael have held you from behind, or would he have rested his chin on top of your head like how he used to when you played pretend in Neverland?
At the restaurant, your mind kept going back to Michael. You knew he would have held your hand on the table. You knew he would have sat next to you instead of in front of you. You knew he would look at your menu instead of his; his knees would probably bump into yours while he acted like he wasn't doing it on purpose. You ordered your food and ate lunch while your significant other did most of the talking.
Getting embarrassingly full too fast, you decided to stick with your celebratory milkshake, sipping on it while listening to your partner. At the end of your date, your partner held your hand and walked you back, having to end the date a little soon because of their part time job.
Once at your building, they held your waist and pulled you in, and you felt shame, and when they kissed your lips your mind drifted back to Michael. You were utterly disgusted by yourself. Walking back to your dorm room you shut the door harder than you wanted to, the frustration doubled as tears stung in your eyes.
The whole time you were thinking of him. There wasn't a single thing your lover did that wouldn't remind you of Michael.
How could you? How could you betray your committed loving partner for someone who came into your life too late?
Frustration wasn't the only thing gnawing at your soul. You couldn't name it. But it took your appetite and energy. You lay on your bed as tears welled in your eyes, letting them fall on your pillow. Your phone rang, cutting through the silence; you weakly reached out and answered the call.
"Hello?" Your voice was weak.
"Honey... are you ok? You didn't call me back after your urgent matter." Your mothers voice felt stable and consistent, exactly what you needed at the moment.
"Mom... I'm alright, just... Michael reached out to me." Your heart was heavy in your chest.
"Oh my... I knew he would. So? Tell me! Did you two rekindle?" Her excitement was usually infectious but this time it only dampened you mood more.
"Yeah... something like that." She immediately recognised the tone of your voice.
"You sound upset..." not wanting her to worry more than she already was with you so far away you redirected.
"It's nothing... just a long day." She seemed to accept the answer.
"Are you coming over this summer?" An escape.
"Yeah, I'll book a flight... next week, ok?" She sounded happier
You smiled and bid your goodbye to your mother, hanging up the phone. Maybe you should go back to Gary. You'd be away for a good reason and you won't have to face your lover or Michael.
After booking your flight for next week, you began to pack your stuff to distract yourself but you really couldn't because Michael's album was all that ever played on your radio.
The days went by quietly without Michael reaching out to you. You wanted to tell him that you were visiting home for the summer, but his last reaction to you lingered heavily on your mind. You swallowed your nerves and called him. He was still your applehead.
Leave a message after the tone.
Oh, how you hated how famous he was.
"Hey Applehead... it's me... I don't know when you'll get this message, but if you do, call me. I'm going to be in Gary for the summer. So call my parents' landline instead of my dorm. My flight is next week. Bye."
You hung up, your heart beating too loudly in your ears; you felt choked up on tears you didn't realise were filling your eyes. When did Michael make you so emotional?
Michael ended up calling you that very night; you picked up the call half asleep, your voice groggy and tired.
"Hello," your voice was raspy and your eyes were heavy.
"Can I drive you to the airport?" Michael said quickly as if he was going to lose you. "What? Mikey?" You questioned, thinking you were dreaming of him in your hazy state.
"Please let me drive you to the airport." His heart pounded desperately.
"OK..!ok... pick me up at 4 in the morning; my flight is at 6." You rubbed your eyes.
"Yes ma'am," he teased and you scoffed.
"How gentlemanly of you, Applehead." You sat up more comfortably.
"Thank you, I do think I am a gentleman." His voice was cocky before he cleared his throat, suddenly growing shy. "So how's your day?"
"Michael, it's 6 in the morning; the day hasn't started." He got quiet for a second. "So how was your sleep?"
You ended up talking through the night; you forgot how easy it was being with him. Almost too easy. Talking to him through the phone felt intimate in a different way. That's when it fully dawned on you. You are in love with Michael.
You were beginning to regret agreeing to let him pick you up. At exactly 4 in the morning he was there, always so punctual with you. You were about to put your bag in the trunk but he quickly took it out of your hands and lifted it himself. "I got it." Your heart fluttered. You moved to get the car door only for him to rush over again and open it for you. "After you, my lady," you laughed as you got in and he followed after you, closing the door firmly.
You felt tense in the car. Conflicting thoughts filled your head. You hated cheaters and you weren't going to cheat just to be with applehead... to be with Michael. You wanted a genuine start out of love, not because you felt desperate. It was selfish and tacky. But also incredibly unfair to your lover because now you were emotionally cheating. Michael noticed your tense features and quietly spoke, "Are you a nervous flyer?"
You nodded quickly to not reveal the real reason. "Yeah... motion sickness and all."
Michael wanted to hold your hand, but you were a taken woman, and he wasn't that kind of man. He respected your choices, your relationship, even if it upset him.
His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment too long while you fidgeted with your fingers.
The boarding announcement called your flight, and you both stood up. Michael refused to let you carry your suitcase, rolling it behind him as he guided you to the gate.
You stood there for a moment before embracing each other tightly.
"Call me when you land," he told you shyly.
You nodded against his chest. He was incredibly warm. You could hear his steady heartbeat beneath your ear. You wished you could stay in his embrace a little longer, but you forced yourself to pull away.
You waved, and he waved back, watching as your silhouette disappeared beyond the gate.
When you came to your childhood home, your parents hugged you tightly. Your siblings gave you awkward side hugs, but you were welcomed all the same.
Your parents told you to take a nap, knowing the jet lag was going to hit you hard. You nodded, appreciating the care.
You went to your childhood room and sighed.
There was a different kind of warmth to it. An innocence that hadn't yet met the harshness of reality. You placed your suitcase in the corner and sat on your bed. Under the dresser, you noticed something. It caught your attention because you didn't remember leaving anything there.
You bent down and pulled out a stack of crumpled papers. Your heart warmed at the sight.
They were all the maps to Neverland that you and Michael used to draw together. The stolen stickers from your siblings. The little plans for the future the two of you came up with as if you had any clue how life would turn out.
You had clearly never planned on losing him.
Michael always hid his drawings from you as a kid, and you respected his privacy, never looking. Seeing them now made you wish you had. One drawing showed the two of you holding hands, with a huge rainbow behind the two of you. Another showed the two of you standing in what looked like a church, getting married.
He drew you in a big, puffy white dress, while he drew himself in a bright red suit. It made you laugh at his ridiculous fashion choices. It dawned on you slowly.
You both loved each other.
And you were both still in love. You got up and picked up the phone, calling him. He answered almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting.
"Hey... I just got home." He let out a sigh of relief.
"That's good... I'm glad you're safe."
You hummed, fidgeting with the phone cord again.
It was hard being casual. It was hard trying to give him space.
Because now it felt anything but casual.
You ended up calling him every day during the summer. You felt like a high school girl talking to her crush on the phone. It felt exactly like a teenage romcom, but the guilt lingered in the back of your mind. Your partner didn't call as often as Michael, though you did try to call them. Michael would just call you more. When you were going to fly back because college was starting soon, you called Michael first. He told you he was going to be waiting for you. You agreed, then called your significant other, and they said they were going to greet you at the airport too. You severely miscalculated. Both were now going to be waiting for you at the airport.
Oh well. Problem for future you.
꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎
Part 3 will be the last! I did accidentally reach the character limit writing part 3 so I gotta lock in more.
꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎໒꒱ིྀ꒰ྀི১ꨄ︎
