manager!michael when you go to an after party and purposely try to make him jealous??
"if you wanted my attention, you should've just talked to me." that's the first thing your manager says after the party, during the tense drive home. your outfit was an elegant, teasing little number, something you knew michael would enjoy, and yet, you'd avoided him the whole night. every dance you took was with another man, younger, a member of some boy group. you even made a point of staying sober, purposefully glancing across the room at michael as your head rested against your new friend's shoulder. now, both of you sit together on plush leather seats in the back of some fancy, black SUV. neither of you look at each other: you, out of immaturity, and him, out of frustration.
crossing your arms, you turn your head to look out of the tinted windows. everything passes by in a rapid blur that almost strains your eyes. still, it's easier than looking at michael right now. "i don't know what you're talking about."
"you don't even like that guy," he accuses. he turns to look at you, his lips pursing when he realizes you're not looking back. how mature. "you barely know him."
you scoff, feeling his eyes on you. "he's funny."
michael chuckles sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "oh, so that's it?"
"funny can get you far."
"maybe with others. not with you," he points out, carefully running his hand against his hair. "i know you. you did that on purpose. you wanted to make me jealous. it's childish."
immediately, your head jerks to face him. "me, childish?" your body follows suit, knees jostling against his as you turn towards him.
"yes, you, childish!" he repeats, "you don't just do that to a man, you can't just toy with me like that!"
"you're the one with a wedding ring still on," you snap, pointing an accusatory finger towards his chest. "i think that's childish—"
his eyes close in agitation as his voice lowers, "don't start—"
thump-thunk!
before the argument could worsen, one of the front wheels hits a small pothole in the road, causing the entire car to bounce. like toys in a box, you and michael are tossed around, unintentionally bumping and grazing each other for a few moments until the car rolls onto even pavement again. your cheek meets his shoulder, his left foot meeting your right; it's a mess of your body against his. when it's finally over, both of you glance at your laps, adjusting hair and clothing in order to try and regain some dignity. in the silence, the argument lingers, although it seems so silly now.
you fidget with a small part of your outfit for what feels like too long before you finally open your mouth to speak again. "i'm sorry," you mumble. after pausing, you add, "i like the ring, actually..."
"i'm sorry, too," he says quickly, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "i spoke from a place of anger... i'm sorry. i'll take the ring off, i promise."
"you can keep it, michael, really," you start, but he just shakes his head no.
down in his lap, he twists and turns the ring along his fourth finger. then he decides: "i want to take it off." he slides it up, easing it past his first knuckle, then off of his hand entirely. streetlights from outside the car just barely manage to shine against the ring as it sits in his palm. then he tucks it into his pocket. "i don't want you thinking there's a chance of me and her getting back together," he explains, "i'm really only focused on one woman right now. even when she drives me crazy, even when she makes me jealous to get my attention. especially when she wants my attention, honestly..."
"i was being bratty," you admit quietly, biting your lip. "really, i don't even know what i was thinking. i wasn't thinking, i was... i just wanted to make you look at me."
"all you have to do is talk to me next time," he murmurs, "just talk to me, okay?"
you nod. "okay."
all the tension slowly dissipates, leaving you and michael (and the driver up front, who is by no means a stranger to you and michael's unique dynamic) behind. his knee gently nudges yours, a silent bid for attention.
"hm?"
he smiles a little. "i just wanted to see your happy face again." for a brief second, he hesitates. then, michael reaches for your hand, his fingers finding shelter in the valleys between your own, squeezing lightly. wordlessly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a few kisses along your knuckles and afterwards letting your hand rest along his thigh. for the rest of the ride, your hand stays there and the ring stays in his pocket; for the rest of your lives, he'll stay yours and you'll stay his.
honestly... just wanted to write a little spat! NOT sorry. i like tension. i gave it a happy ending though ^_^ hope u enjoyed!!
