It was a Saturday. Being too exhausted after the week ordeals, they had no plans for the weekend, thus Michael and Sara stood in the kitchen; cooking lunch. Mike sat with Isla in the lounge, within their sight, as they did arts and crafts. While Lincoln and Sheba had come over to spend the weekend but Lincoln was more obsessed with fixing the broken grill. Sarah had assured him that it'd be fixed the next time he came but Lincoln was determined so she left him with his tools resigning with
"You're just as stubborn as your brother."
Michael stood cutting the vegetables as Sarah was cooking on the stove. They had been having light conversations, how their week was, what plans they had. Mike occasionally joining their conversations. They were talking about work when Sara remembered her patient with a smile,
"Hey you'll never guess who I treated the other day?"
"Who?" Michael inquired
She started telling him of the Mexican women, who Michael had generously shopped for as she didn't know proper English; she come in with her sonâs addiction and Sara being only doctor able to speak perfect Spanish had taken up the case.
"..........it was great. I'll take you to meet her one day she'd like that."
She looked up from her task when she didn't receive a reply from Michael. He was still cutting but it was as if he didn't hear her.
"Michael?" She asked in her normal voice tentatively.
He didn't respond. It was unlike him. With his LLI he was always open to his name being called.
"Michael?" Sara tried again a little louder placing a hand on his arm.
"Yeah?" He answered almost normally discarding the knife to his side "Oh you were saying something?"
"Yeah, are you okay?"
"Iâm fine." He answered her with a smile
"What were you thinking about?" Sara asked Her hand reaching up to lie on his cheek
"Nothing, just office." When Sara still looked worried he added "Sometimes itâs hard to keep track of everything when I have so many ideas. My mind just keeps jumping from one thing to another. Trust me I was a nuisance to Lincoln when I was a kid." He smiled
His LLI. Of course. Sarah had almost forgot how difficult it must have been throughout his life. She had never fully realized the full fledged effects of LLI because Michael made it look so easy. He hid his difficulties his troubles. Sarah just realized with a pang of pain and regret how difficult it was even now.
"Then maybe you should go jolt that idea down." Sarah answered, his explanation calming her
"There's no need. It's a redundant idea."
Sara came closer to stand in front of him her hands going at the back of his neck while his hands rested on her waist. With an impulse of mischief she changed the subject,
"Do you usually cut me out like that?" She asked with a teasing smile
"You know I don't and I never can." he replied back.
"You just did." Sara laughed "You're a liar Mr. Scofield." Sara exclaimed softly teasing him further. Her thumb caressing his cheek.
But Michael just smiled leaning in to capture her lips quickly before they caught their children's attention. He was glad heâd played out his lies the way he did if it meant he could hold and kiss her like this. They pulled away quickly a smile gracing both their features.
"I think you should go help your brother."
"Yeah, I think I should." He smiled at her one last time leaving the kitchen and Sara cooking, still smiling.
Night came soon bringing their day to an end. Sarah walked into the room ready for bed. She saw Michael siting on the bed his head against the head rest. She came to sit beside him on the bed, picking up her lotion following her daily routine.
âMike wants to go out tomorrow.â
"Okay. Iâll take them to Lake Michigan tomorrow."
Sarah smiled. They both knew that mike loved the lake but it was about time they changed their outing spot.
"I think theyâre a bit bored of that place. How about an amusement park?"
"Okay." He smiled at her not caring where they went as long as they went together. Sarah put the lotion on her beside as she lay down. Looking at Michael she could see him lightly hitting his fingers against the bed; she knew him well enough by now to know his traits. She held his hand in hers to catch his attention.
"You're gonna sleep, right?" She asked when he looked towards her.
"Yeah." He replied with a smile, kissing the side of her cheek laying down beside her. His arms holding her in place beside him. Before Sara knew it, she was fast asleep.
It was four the next time she opened her eyes.
She found Michael sitting in the bed his head in his hands; awake , his eyes screwed shut in frustration. This worried Sara.
"Michael?" she called out to him her voice lethargic.
"Iâm sorry. Did I wake you?" He looked up startled but upon seeing Sara he calmed. A new sense of relief in his blue eyes.
"Are you okay? Its four and you're awake. Are you having-" Nightmares. She wanted to say as she enquired softly, but she stopped knowing Michael understood her.
"No, it's not that. I just canât sleep. I keep thinking about work. And then my mind is drawn to different places from there......and I....for some reason, I canât make it stop today."
Sara knew different places meant unwanted memories, thatâs why he was so relieved to see her up. Now he had company to distract him and sooth his racing mind. She felt her heart flutter slightly at the fact that he didn't wake her up even though he needed her, she wished he had but she wasn't much bothered because that was just Michael; caring for others more than himself.
"How about I make some coffee and we stay up together?" She suggested, already getting up and tying her hair.
"Sara you don't have to stay up."
"I know but I want to." She smiled at him getting a bit more attentive as she left him smiling at the familiar words.
She walked with two mugs of coffee towards the porch. The chilly air felt welcoming to them both so they joined two chairs a blanket around them, mugs in their hands, as they talked about the most random things. Listening, talking, flirting and laughing. They sat there a while embracing each other until Sarah felt that Michael might just be able to let go of his thoughts.
And sure enough, within minutes of laying down on their bed, Michael had fallen asleep. But this time around, Sarah stayed up making sure that he was sound asleep, away from his nightmares and thoughts before she closed her eyes falling into a slumber cuddled beside Michael.Â
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Hey! LLI stands for Low Latent Inhibition; the psychological condition that Michael has in Prison Break. In LLI an individual sees the world as pieces, rather than mere objects. Simply it is a condition in which the individuals brain is more open to incoming stimuli in the surrounding environment. As a result of this condition, he is unable to block out periphery information and instead processes every aspect and detail of any given stimulus. This, combined with a high IQ theoretically makes a creative genius. While combined with a low IQ results in a mental illness. The psychiatrist explains it to Sarah in episode 9 of Season 1. It's explained really well so i never really needed to consult an external source. I was searching some effects of LLI and a site said that people suffering from LLI have trouble sleeping because they have so many ideas in their mind, their mind keeps thinking jumping from one thing to another which is why it's also difficult for them to keep track of their chain of thoughts. And I think it would actually be a cool idea for a fan fiction though.Anyways I hope you understood. If not then feel free to ask agin! âşď¸
Hiii! Your page has been silent for a while and i was concerned. All okay?
Hey! Yes, thankfully all is okay. Thank you so much for asking though. It warms my heart to know that atleast there's one person who's waiting for my stories and words; really thank you, it means a lot. đ And yes i realize its been silent but thats because I have a lot on my hands these days and very few ideas with a lot of drafts waiting to be refined. As soon as my studies fall into place a bit ill be back writing, hopefully. I do have two fics completed but im not satisfied with them yet so i cant post them. Im sorry for the delay hopefully soon ill be able to post them. đ P.S: I realize the few new fics that come out weekly are not nearly enough (its agonizing to wait, i know thats why im really really sorry for not posting very often). And that sucks i wish there were more prison break fic writers then we'd all have something to read more often. âđť
OMG! Lool đđđ I dont know how true this is but, this made me laugh so hard for some reason. Are people legit this fed up of fanfic writers making mike a smart kid? đđ đđť
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It was a beautiful day as they all together smiling and laughing. Isla sat in Sheba's lap as she talked to Sarah, frequently playing with Isla, while Michael, Mike and Lincoln sat hurdled together talking rapidly after their game of football occasionally laughing; beers in hands while juices in Sarah, Sheba and mike's. Their little picnic was broken by the sound of the bell, as Michael went inside to get the door; Lincoln and mike instantly resuming their talk. Mike's affection of his uncle had not decreased in the least, in the light of his father's presence.Â
It was only now after fifteen minutes that Sarah realized that Michael had yet to come back. Glancing towards the door, excusing herself she got up to walk towards the house, only to hear Lincoln call out to her,
 "If it's the police, tell them at this point they can keep him!" earning a laugh from Sheba and a confused glance from Mike. Shaking her head at Lincoln's humor, smiling, Sarah walked towards the house.
She found him the instant she walked in. He was facing the window overlooking the whole of their backyard. If Michael had acknowledged her he didn't show it, Sara could see him standing still in deep contemplation. Sarah only sensed his tensed back when she flung her arms around his torso, kissing his shoulder. When he didn't respond to her touch, she moved to his side, one hand still on his back while the other came down to rest on his forearm.
Michael stood with two papers in his hands, his eyes screwed shut, a pained expression on his face.Â
 "Michael?" She softly called out to him only to have him slightly raise the papers in his hand; indicating for her to read the papers his eyes still closed.Â
She couldn't fathom what she read while she went sick when she saw the picture. It was the most horrific thing she had seen in her life.Â
"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, her hand leaving Michael's forearm to rest on her chest trying to calm her beating heart, forcing herself to forget what she had seen. She could feel her eyes getting moist, with what was in the papers, what had had been done to her, but mostly she couldn't even imagine what Michael must be going through.Â
"How do I tell Linc?" Sara heard his voice just above a whisper. She could see the pain and disgust so clearly in his eyes. Then she really heard what he was saying; Lincoln. Of course he had to know, and Michael had to tell him. She understood in an instant what Michael was contemplating looking at them from the window, he didn't know whether to barge in and drop the news or wait.Â
"You don't.....Not now, anyway." she found her voice after giving it some thought, "I'll ask them to stay the night..... maybe then." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She couldn't destroy what they were seeing. A rare moment in their life, all of them happy. Lincoln, Sheba, mike and Isla. And when Lincoln and Sheba were doing so well she didn't want to throw this at them, not now; Michael and Sara hardly knew what Lincoln had and had not told her.Â
She saw Michael nod slightly, looking at everyone again. Sara rubbed her hand comfortingly on his back.Â
 "She deserved better. What kind of an animal would do something like this?" He asked looking at Sara, his ocean blue eyes clearly moist, with a hatred Sarah had seen Michael show to things that he absolutely loathed, that disgusted him.
 She didn't know what to say, what could she say to a man who had just seen the body of his  lifelong family friend; his probable elder sister, cut in two, decayed, rotten, forgotten.Â
Once the body had been recognized as Veronica's they had addressed the letter to Michael, asking whether he would like yo take possession of the body or should they bury it. Why they had sent pictures Sara couldn't fathom.Â
Sara had met Veronica, she liked her. She could see she cared for Michael and Lincoln. She'd seen her name on the visitation register numerous times.Â
She turned to Michael, placing her forehead against his. She could see a single tear trickle down his cheek. She placed her hand against his cheek, feeling his face as if for the first time, just like she had in the infirmary. He had his eyes closed against her touch trying his best to compose himself, to control his emotions. She could feel her silent tears drop as well she couldn't believe what they had done to Veronica. A gunshot to the head and her body cut in two....Â
 "I did this to her." She heard Michael's whisper his pain and sorrow vivid.Â
"This is not on you, Michael." She assured him firmly. Michael didn't get a chance to contradict her as they heard Lincoln's cheerful voice "Michael, Sara! Come out already!"Â
Sara sniffed and caressing his cheek one last time she pulled away; she softly took the paper from his hands and tucked it in a drawer near by.Â
 She could see the image of a broken man as she walked back to Michael. She took his hand in hers while her other hand come up to elegantly lay over his chest, right above his heart, where she could feel his rapid heart beat; his crying heart. She looked up at him, calling to him gently to get him out of his reverie,
 "We gotta go."
 He nodded in the slightest, walking with her, his hand in hers, his heart in pain and full of love for the women always there by his side; Sara. They both walked slowly towards the door, composing their facade.
The papers lay hidden in the drawers, just like Lincoln's love for Veronica was buried deep inside, both of the things, Michael knew, were sure to come out soon, sooner than he had ever anticipated.Â
Hii...Hope you doing well. I have a misa prompt. Can you please write a fic leading upto the sene from 5x09 where Michael leans on Sara's head and tells him' We are gonna get him back okay'? What were they both feeling? They must really be anxious because of mike and also in a strange place because of the 7 years. Would live to read your point of the view on this. â¤ď¸
Michaelâs first front row seat to witnessing Sara as the mother of their child had been one of fierce, unilateral, protective instinct, as sheâd run down the empty street, chasing Jacobâs car. It had taken a surprising amount of effort to pull her short, to convince her there was a better way than sheer will to retrieve Mike. Her strength in that moment had caught him off-guard as sheâd fought his attempt to stop her, hadnât heard his pleas for her to stop, to stay with him. Even after sheâd calmed down, after reason had prevailed, he could feel the tension crashing off her, as though every fiber in her still screamed Mike, Mike, Mike no matter what else needed discussing. As they drove Lincoln to the hospital, as they slipped back out just as quickly, as they arrived to meet Whip and T-Bag by the dock. Mike.
If heâd had space in his head for anything other than the calculations necessary to execute his plan to get Mike back and end Jacob for good, Michael would have thanked Sara for this. Because heâd known sheâd be a devoted mother to their son of course, but seeing it with his own eyes was another matter entirely. It filled him with a gratitude and tenderness that brought tears to prick at the back of his eyes. Michael was certainly familiar with the concept of maternal instinct, but the combination of this primal drive and Sara made for a powerful and formidable concoction. It was something to behold, really; as angry as Michael was himself right now, he wouldnât want to cross Sara. Protective impulse, stubborn determinationâŚit was all there in spades, shining in her eyes as she paced the dock, unable to stay still.
âCome here,â he requested softly, while they waited. He knew she couldnât untangle her feelings for him in this moment, to pick at the fibers of the complicated knot that was them, and he wouldnât ask it of her. But he could offer comfort, and hope it touched some part of her.
She came to him without hesitation, and that gratified him. He curled one palm over her shoulder and she leaned her head into his chest, as though sheâd never stopped doing so, as though she still did this every day. Another prick at the back of his eyes.
âWeâre going to get him back, okay?â
Her jaw tightened as she attempted a stoic smile. He saw the tension at her temple, the quiver of nerves there. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, he wanted to hold her very tightly, but if he was to keep his promise, he needed to keep his head clear. Heâd done everything in his power, given up so much, to keep Mike safe with her for seven years. He would not bear witness to her loss of of their son now. He didnât know yet whether he could fix this â him, her â but she would have their boy back. He would die (again) before she lost that.
Hii...Hope you doing well. I have a misa prompt. Can you please write a fic leading upto the sene from 5x09 where Michael leans on Sara's head and tells him' We are gonna get him back okay'? What were they both feeling? They must really be anxious because of mike and also in a strange place because of the 7 years. Would live to read your point of the view on this. â¤ď¸
The Bruise
Michael brought her to an open abandoned warehouse. Thecar ride had been quiet. Filled with small, light conversation if any. Like howLincoln was or whatâs next; with Sara getting vague answers to Michaelâs plan;something she was strangely used to even after 7 years. Sara saw Michaelchecking every square inch of the warehouse thoroughly before calling out toher;
âWeâll be safe here.â
She sat on the pile of wooden boxes beside heracknowledging his words but not replying. She could sense his presence at adistance; she had a feeling he was double checking the warehouse but she didnâtpay much attention.
Her mind was running at a thousand miles per hour. Hercomposure was a facade. And Michaelâs assurance and her rusty but iron strongtrust in him was the only thing keeping her going. Sara couldnât imagine neverseeing her son again. She didnât know what Jacob was doing to him. She keptassuring herself that he wouldnât hurt mike but what did she know about Jacobreally? Her anxiety rose more so when she thought about the questions that mikewould have and the fact that Jacob was the wrong person to answer every singleone of them. God knew what he had already told her son. He had alreadymanipulated mike into calling him Dad, something sheâd reserved for Michael. Ithad broken Michael, she could see it so clearly, his sunken shoulders, hisdefeated eyes. She had wanted to show Michael right there and then how much Mikeloved him, how he mythologized him, how sheâd never let another man take hisplace or his son. She was brought back to reality by Michaelâs voice;
âI know youâre not really this calmâŚ.âMichael had known by her panic attack this morning just how difficult it wasfor her, but she had been calmer thenceforward. Since then he had been burningto inquire her, but he didnât have enough evidence to his thought, until now;when he had been seeing her sitting with her head in her hands; tensed.
Sara smiled at his perception, of course he could seeright through her, read her, even now just as she could.
âSo am I still keeping you going or is it something elsenow?â Sara heard Michael continue in a small voice; his voice unsure tohear the answer, not a whisper but almost there.
She looked at him, his blue eyes awaiting an answer.
âItâs faith, in you.â Sara answered himtruthfully only to see his eyes widen in surprise. âYou seemsurprised?â
âYou still have faith in me?â He questionedregaining himself.
âI always have.â She saw his eyes soften at herresponse.
Just like you had faithin me for seven years; she wanted to add butdidnât. His faith in her acceptance, her forgiveness, their love. It was hisundying love and faith to her and mike that he was here in front of her, aliveand sane.
âI havenât even looked at you properly.âMichael gave her a small smile, changing the topic to express his long buriedlove as he walked towards her.
He didnât know how Sara still had faith in him. Wheneverheâd come into her life heâd always been like a hurricane; derogating whatevershe had built. And every time she had let him in; accepting him instead. Andnow here she was telling him that she had faith after so long, in himnonetheless.
âNeither have I. Howâs your wound?â she askedas he came to stand in front of her.
âIts there.â He lightly shrugged off the topicnot wanting Sara to worry on his account. It hurt him, sure but not so much asto inform Sara.
âDoes it hurt?â she asked knowing full wellthat Michael doesnât express pain but even as he didnât answer her she knew itwas bound to cause him pain, it was an anti-freeze wound a day old nevertheless.
She could feel his eyes on her. She hoped he wouldnât seeit. Sheâd been hiding it all day hoping he wonât notice, but of course hewould, she knew he would. He was after all Michael Scofield. She knew it beforeit happened. She tried her best to focus on his health rather than his touch,cool, foreign yet familiar.
She closed her eyes as the back of his fingers traced thebruise formed on her cheek. She saw the pain flash across his face and in hiseyes,
âDid heâŚ.. Sara, did heâŚ..â he couldnâteven fathom the idea. How could someone hurt another human being, a woman noless? He could feel his anger rise at his audacity. His indignation increasingwith every passing minute. He was going to destroy Jacob, for what he did toSara, to mike and to him.
âIâm okay.â This answered Michael well enough.
The last time he had been this angry was when T-bag had Saraabducted. He would have killed him right there had it not been for Sara callingout to him, needing him. Her scared, breathy call of his name had ground himback to reality, to what was important, indispensable.
And then regret came to him like it always did; in Yemen,Egypt, everywhere; out of nowhere, suddenly. Had he never left this wouldnâthave happened. He couldnât protect Sara or his son. He knew what a sick bastardJacob was, yet he sent Sara back to him, to play his game.
âGod Sarah, Iâm so sorryâŚ.â Sara heard himapologize in a mere whisper, his eyes moist. His apology meaningful like heheartily believed that this was all his fault.
âHey, this is not your fault, okay?â
âIt is.â He said in barely a whisper, hardlyaudible. His anger still there mixed with regret. He placed his head on top of herscaressing her cheek;
âWhen I get a hold of himâŚâŚâ Sarah couldstill feel him seethe, his anger pulsing through him, her calm Michael gone andthe rarely angry Michael making his way up to the surface.
âYouâre gonna get mike back.â Sarah completedfor him, trying to soothe him; calm him; talk some sense into him.
He sighed releasing his anger realizing the truth of herwords. They were quiet for a moment enjoying each otherâs presence, and touchafter so long.
âThankyou.â he broke the silence.
âWhat for?â
âFor trusting me, for staying this calm, for havingfaith.â Sara kept listening his voice velvety soft voice making her calm.She had missed his sweet voice and sweeter assurances.
With his head against hers and her hands in his, Saraheard him give her faith in his sweetest voice once again;
âWeâre going to get him back, I promise.â
Hey! Iâm doing great! Thanks for asking. I hope youâre doing well too.
Yay! I wrote my first ever prompt! Itâs actually such a great coincidence as I was already working on this piece. I didnât go much into the strange place of Michael and Sara cause I feel it wasnât that much of strange place because they had kind of found their rhythm; like when Michael assured Sara or in the hospital when Sara warns Michael. But if you really read into it I think there is a bit of strangeness to them. Oh and I was actually writing it about the bruise, hence the name, but I do hope that I did your prompt justice! Thank you for the prompt! And Enjoy!
Send in a prompt and iâll try by best to get to it.
I keep forgetting how cute and amazing they both look in Season 1. đđđ He's so adorable, he shouldn't even care to calm her, but he will because that's just Michael. I love this! âşď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
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So I know everyoneâs opinion on a âPrison Break Season 6â and I also want the Scofieldâs to live happily ever after but I just want a season 6 so we can see a lot of Wentworth Miller and Sarah Wayne Callieâs happy, funny goofy interviews.
Can you please write a little one shot about Michael and Mike working together on a science project for school (because I am a sucker for Michael in Daddy Mode and Mike being totally a badass kid)
Michael comes in through the front door, a long day back at work, but a satisfying one. Â Heâd contemplated finding something else do, something more relaxing perhaps. Â But his mind refused to let him rest, and instead demanding it be stretched for answers.
 He didnât mind, enjoying the time he could helping to solve problems and come up with configurations that others stared at in awe.  It was what he did best, but it wasnât what he lived for.
No, that was reserved for when the clock struck five, refusing to put in late nights, instead almost racing home. Â
He rolls up his sleeves, as he makes his way into the house, finding Sara sitting in the living room, still on maternity leave. Â Isla has her back up against her momâs stomach, a gurgling, drooling little girl whose arms flail at Saraâs excited, âDaddyâs home,â echoing through the house, meeting Michaelâs ears, bringing a soft smile to his face.
He holds his hands out, reaching for the baby, who snuggles into his neck, as she breaths in her distinct infant smell, Sara getting up from her spot, a quick kiss exchanged, almost as if a habit, a ritual theyâd implemented long ago, instead of a relatively new routine theyâd established.
âHeâs already waiting for you,â Sara says with a grin, her hand coming to rest on Islaâs back, as she walks into the kitchen to check on dinner.
Michael climbs the stairs with Isla in tow, reaching Mikeâs room.
Every night for the past month, the two of them had been working endlessly on Mikeâs science project. Â Stealing time when they could, before and after dinner, and then on the weekends when they werenât at Mikeâs baseball practice.
âItâs looking good, bud,â Michael says from the doorway, Isla gurgling in agreeance, causing Michael to turn towards her little head resting on his shoulder, his long fingers, wrapping in her soft, dark hair.
Mike looks up from his project, a small smile on his lips at his dadâs compliment, before squinting back at his work.
âI just have to add the support,â he says in a quiet whisper like voice that sounds all too familiar to the older Scofield. Â âWe can probably start testing it this weekend,â he says, hesitantly, as if heâs not quite sure.
âLet me see,â he walks further into the room, staring over at the blueprints for the bridge that Mike had worked out himself, Michael having only helped with the calculations. Â Piece by piece, theyâd put together the structure. Â Mike believing that they had worked on it together, but really, it had been mostly him, Michael just lending encouragement and a pointer here and there.
Bending down to his knees, he turns Isla over to where she can see Mike, his son immediately grabbing onto her little hand, making cute faces at the girl, whose eyes grew wide at the sight.
Inspecting the structure with one hand, he finds himself laughing at the interaction.
âAre you helping, Isla?â Mike asks her, shaking her hand as if it were her way of agreeing to such a task.
Michael brings his lips to the tuft of her hair, leaving a kiss on her head.
âI think youâre right, Mike. Â Youâre just about done,â he says. Â A flicker of accomplishment sparking in the ember of his sonâs amber eyes.
These were the moments he was living for. Â The ones heâd fought tooth and nail to get home to. Â A surge of pride rumbling in his chest at all that not even he had accomplished, but rather the things his kids would succeed at.
His optimism had wavered here and there, but for the most part, it had continued burning from the moment heâd inked his skin. Â Often sacrificing his own happiness for the greater good, sure that if only his family were safe, he could die fulfilled.
âOh wow, baby,â he hears Sara behind them, coming up to rest her hand on both of their heads.
It was only in his wildest dreams that he would be there to witness such a feat. Â But here was, helping his son with a science project, holding his daughter, with his wife standing with him.
âYou guys did good,â Sara says, his hand slipping to Michaelâs neck, while planting a kiss where her hand was on Mikeâs head.
âYeah, we did,â Michael agrees, meeting her eyes, a knowing look passing between them.
It had been a long time coming, but he could finally, contently, say that this was what heâd been fighting for, a moment just like this one, and all the future ones to come.
Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask box and I will write the next five sentences.
Unpopular Opinion Okay guys so we all know what happens before this scene right? Sarah looks at Michael a while says, "I can't" and walks away only to go back again. Now many people think that she says "I can't" as in she cant wear the mask. But here's what i think; In my opnion the scene was supposed to go slower than it actually did. So Sarah finishes talking and hugging him pulling away to look at him, Michael looks at her expectantly and hesitantly he wants to make a move but isn't sure if he's welcome or not. Sarah reads his expression, his longing stare, she looks at him a minute longer specifically his lips and decides that she can't, she just can't kiss him. She says so aloud and walks away. As soon as she does though she can't go through with it. She met him 7 years later, she wasn't even sure if she'd see him again so she can't and won't go on regretting this for the rest of her life. So she turns back around mid way taking his face in her hands gently and kissing him. So basically i think if the scene was played slowly this was perfect and it also makes sense as to what Wentworth and Sarah said. Anyways this is what I think her words mean; "I can't " meaning I can't kiss you. Thoughts?
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