“Whatcya doin’, baby?” Mike came up behind me, touching his hands to my shoulders. I grinned and continued my task at hand; I was sitting at the kitchen table with a sheet of lined paper, a pen curled in my right hand. I stuck my tongue out a little, concentrating on writing my name on the paper. I knew how to spell and everything, but I haven’t written anything by hand since I was eleven years old. My handwriting showed it, too.

Mike chuckled, running his fingers through my hair. He bunched it up and moved it to one shoulder, then he ducked his head and lightly kissed the side of my neck. I shivered a little and he chuckled, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Can I help?” he asked.

“I don’t know how that’s possible,” I laughed, scribbling on the paper more.

“Here,” Mike said. I raised my eyebrows and suddenly I wasn’t in the chair anymore. I rolled my eyes and lightly hit his chest, as he had scooped me up in his arms.

“Because this solves everything.”

He smirked a little and walked around, sitting down into the chair himself, then he guided me to sit up in his lap. He curled his left arm around my stomach securely, his other looping around and holding my right hand. He scooted us forward more with the chair and linked his fingers through mine, moving our hands down to the pen. I smiled to myself as “we” picked it up; he let my hand grip it and then simply held his on top of mine.

I started to write out my name again, but his hand kept mine secure and steady. The handwriting was a lot more decent with his help.

As we went to write it again, I decided to switch things up, writing his name, instead. Mike caught on and laughed. “It’s like you’re in the fifth grade, doodling your crush’s name on your journal,” he teased.

“I’ve done that before, actually,” I said.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm. His name was Dave.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Very,” I nodded. With a devious grin, I stopped writing Mike’s name and started to sprawl out the letters D-a-v-e across the page. I enveloped the name into a giant heart with small hearts scattered around it. Mike gasped when he realized and lifted his hand up, bringing mine with him.

“How about you draw me a picture, instead?” he suggested. I giggled and nodded, taking the pen back and flipping the page over. Mike chuckled a little and kissed my cheek, setting his chin back down on my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “I used to draw a lot when I was a kid,” I said quietly. Mike turned his head so it was facing me more directly, his breath on my neck. “I stopped after the crash,” I mumbled.

“Oh,” he breathed. His left arm was still wrapped securely around my middle, and he gently moved his hand up and down on my right side, soothingly.

“I really liked it,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry,” he regretted, placing a gentle kiss on my skin. I shrugged my shoulders weakly.

I turned my head to look at him and gave him a small smile. “Shit happens,” I said. He nodded in agreement.

“Okay, okay!” I said, interrupting myself before I got too worked up over something I couldn’t change.

I lifted my hand to write our names again. I was doing a little better, but it was still shaky. I had a hard time controlling my hand. I was kind of nervous, I guess, and also my hands weren’t the strongest since I haven’t needed to use a pen or pencil in years. “List of important people,” I mumbled along as I wrote the sentence at the top of a clean page. Mike chuckled a little, his breath warm and making my skin tingle. “Phoebe,” I said slowly as I wrote out her name.

“What?! I’m not first?!” I just laughed and shook my head.

“Miiiike.”

“Beautiful,” he said proudly. I rolled my eyes.

“Mommy, daddy,” I didn’t say those out loud as I wrote them down.

“Oh, Vic—that’s not enough letters for good practice—”

“Victor,” Mike interjected.

“Ah,” I nodded. “Victor,” I wrote. “I’m not really that close with them but since they’re important to you, they’re important to me,” I said as I wrote the names Tony and Jaime on the page. The past week I have seen them a few times, they were really nice and caring. But, of course, I’ve spent most of my time with Mike lately. He said that he would take me to band gatherings, so I could meet everyone—he didn’t want to push my comfort boundaries before, but I was a lot more open to people now that I could see.

I bit my lip as I wrote Rosy. I wasn’t supposed to become attached to the kids I worked with but I honestly would never forget that girl. “Hm, who else?” Mike shrugged his shoulders.

“Any other family?” he suggested casually yet carefully.

I shook my head. Aunt Livy, I thought bitterly, I’m afraid you haven’t made the cut.

Mike suddenly laughed. “What?” I asked, looking at him strangely.

“Aunt Livy?” he raised his eyebrow. I scrunched up my nose.

“Er… she couldn’t handle taking care of me. I guess I reminded her too much of her dead sister, and the whole blind thing wasn’t something she was comfortable with,” I muttered easily. “But, look!” I put my pointer finger down on the list. “Look at all these people that are important,” I said in a cheesy fashion. I turned my head and caught my lips with Mike’s. I smiled a little and so did he.

“You’re so cheesy you taste like mozzarella!” I slapped his arm as he said that and rolled my eyes. “Nooo, it’s cute. I’m going to hang this up on my fridge!” he said.

“I am not in the fifth grade!”

“Oh, you’re not?” Mike smirked as he held up the paper that had Dave’s name written with hearts all over it. I giggled a little. He ripped the page up. “Here,” he gave me a fresh paper. I lifted my eyebrow at him in confusion; he picked my hand up, the pen still in my grasp, and guided me with writing his name. I took control and drew messy hearts all around his name. “That’s more like it,” he approved.

“It’s so messy, though,” I sighed.

“It’ll just take some practice,” he said reassuringly, turning his head so he could kiss my cheek.

“Oh for the love of god!” I looked up to see Vic in the threshold of the kitchen, raising his hands in exasperation like he usually did whenever he happened to walk in on Mike being cute. I cracked up, Mike securing his arm around me and grumbling into my shoulder.

“I’m a nice person!” Mike objected, pouting at his brother.

“I know buddy, I know,” he chuckled, walking towards us and then ruffling Mike’s hair.

Vic took a step back and put his hands on his hips, staring at us. He was smiling and then let out a sigh. “Faye, you’re a magician.”

I laughed. “What? Why?”

“Ugh!” he raised his arms again.

“What’s going on in here?” Phoebe poked her head inside. She had groceries in her hand and walked them over to the counter.

“They’re being cute!” Vic pointed at us accusingly.

“Vic, are you drunk?” Mike laughed.

“No. I just don’t get it.”

“You’re acting like a fan girl!”

“Phoebes, babe, come here and fan girl at them with me,” Vic said, jutting his bottom lip out and bouncing on his toes up and down. Phoebe laughed and skipped over to him, taking his arm and staring at me and Mike. I raised my eyebrows and turned around, looking at Mike who had a similar expression on his face. We gave each other one look and both stood up, shaking our heads and walking upstairs to Mike’s room, leaving Vic and Phoebe behind.

“They’re freaks,” I said as he closed the door. He laughed and nodded, agreeing.

“They’re also gone,” he added.

I tilted my head to the side. “Listen,” he said, holding up his pointer finger and biting his lip. I focused too, and, sure enough, I heard the front door close, followed by a string of giggles and the engine of a car starting. I laughed.

“Well that’s good,” I approved. Mike nodded and walked over to me. He held his hands on my waist and took me by surprise by kissing me softly yet firmly. I raised my right hand and held my palm tenderly on his cheek. He pulled away a few seconds later and I was honestly a little breathless.

“What was that for?” I asked with a small smile. He bit his lip and picked me up, swinging me around. He fell backwards on to my bed, me tumbling down on top of him.

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, although with the way I strategically landed, straddling his stomach with my hands flat on his chest, I knew he was anything but that. His eyes were swirling and his teeth were sunk into his bottom lip. I leaned forward and gently kissed his lips, while he slid his hands up my sides.

I cupped his face with my hands and repeatedly kissed him. He smiled and so did I. “I love you,” I sang shyly.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled. He leaned up and took a hold of my wrists, which were still up by his head, and kissed me firmly. He pecked my lips a few time, dropping my hands and trailing his hands down to my hips again, and then he moved away from my mouth, peppering kisses across my cheek and up my jaw and then down my neck.

Soon the kisses were more open-mouthed, he buried his face into the crook of my neck and sucked on the sensitive skin there. I sighed contently and tangled my hands in his hair. “Mike,” I mumbled as the tips of his cold fingers gently pulled my top off of my shoulder on one side, so he had more skin to press his lips to. His hands then found the bottom of my shirt; he separated his lips from my skin and looked at me. He tugged on the shirt a little, asking, “is this okay?” I nodded and bit my lip as he slowly lifted my shirt up, exposing my stomach and chest to him for the first time.

I was unfamiliar in this area—I was a little afraid, too. I have let Mike in, in most ways, but not in this way, not yet. I knew it was going to happen eventually—I wanted it to happen—but that didn’t mean I wasn’t afraid. I loved Mike, I trusted him; but why was my heart beating so frantically in my chest?

“Shh, it’s okay,” he cooed quietly. He turned us around and gently laid me back, my head hit the pillows and my hair fanned out. He traced his hands across my exposed skin and I shivered. I wrapped my arms around his neck and bit my lip. I tugged on the back of his shirt a little and he easily reached his left arm backwards over his shoulder, pulling up from the back and swiftly yanking it over his head, throwing it to the side. His hair was tousled from the action and I grinned a little. I brought my hands down and flattened my palms against his chest. His heart was already beating fast, too.

He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss next to my ear. His breath tickled the side of my face. “Do you want to?” he asked lowly. I bit my lip and nodded. At this, he hovered over me and kissed me with a lot more intensity than before—intense in the sense that the passion was there and powerful. I opened my mouth and allowed us to get closer, our tongues rolling together. His hands explored my body but I kept mine on his shoulders, tense. He must have noticed because he pulled his lips from mine and asked if I was sure. I responded positively.

“But… I’ve never… I don’t…” my cheeks heated up and Mike chuckled, ducking his head and kissing the tip of my nose.

“I know, baby, it’s okay,” he said sweetly. “Do you trust me?” he asked. I took in a sharp breath and nodded.

“Yes, Mikey, I trust you,” I said with a smile. I ran my fingers through his hair and brushed my thumb down his face; then I hooked my arms around his neck again securely. I trusted him—I trusted him to be careful with me, to make me feel comfortable. I loved him—I loved him a lot, I didn’t know which came first, the trust or the love, but I guess they went hand in hand. Mike gently cupped his hand around my chin, pressing his lips to mine softly. I wanted him—oh boy, did I want him.

----

Everything was about feeling—I was surprised at this. Looking into his eyes was important to me, but in the peak of everything it was only natural to let pleasure take over and give yourself completely to the other person, close your eyes and free fall, trusting that they would be there. I felt like Mike was there; I hoped that he felt I was there, too.

I’ve never felt so loved in my life. And the feeling of us now, pressed up together, his heart still racing and pounding against my back, his arms wrapped securely around my middle, his lips at the nape of my neck, and our legs tangled together, was indescribable.

Vic had once talked to me about “how Mike used to be,” but, after what we just did together, I had trouble believing any of it. I had no reason not to trust Mike and I have no regrets letting him in. It seemed, according to Vic, that being with Mike has not only helped me, but also has helped him. I smiled and closed my eyes.

----

“I got da stuff,” Mike said, walking back into his room, a collection of Harry Potter movies in one hand and a few drinks in his other.

“You have like thirty movies in your hand, Mike!” I exclaimed with a laugh, wrapping my arms around myself and cuddling deeper into the sweatshirt of his I was wearing. “You have to get sleep, you leave early tomorrow,” I said softly. He tossed the movies onto the foot of his bed, put the drinks on the bedside table, and jutted out his bottom lip. He gently climbed into bed and curled up with me, tenderly brushing my hair back.

“You’re right,” he sighed. He sat up and secured his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. I turned my face into the skin of his neck, took a deep breath, and placed a lazy kiss there. "I'm going to miss youuuu," he sang quietly.

"I'm going to miss you too, Mikey," I mumbled. He sighed a little and we both disregarded the initial movie night plans, opting for a cuddle instead. He kissed the same spot of my jaw over and over again, the feeling of his plump lips on my skin along with the cold metal of his lip ring gave me shivers, no matter how many times he did it it still caught me off guard but in a good way.

“Can I talk to you about something?” he asked suddenly. I nodded into his neck and I felt him turn his head and kiss the top of my head. I wondered anxiously what it was about—was it about earlier, our first time being together together? He called it perfect—it felt pretty perfect, to me—but had he been covering up the fact that I had done something wrong and now wanted to talk about it? That was my worst fear, that I'd somehow embarrass myself in front of him because I didn't know what to do. “I just was wondering about something you said the other day,” he said, much to my relief and stopping my mind from overworking.

“Yeah?” I asked softly, looking up to face him. His chin stubble tickled my face and I couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Er, you said that you were taking a ‘break’ from your job… does that mean you’re going back?” he asked. Mike’s demeanor turned shy, a trait I’ve never truly see him posses. My face fell and my eyebrows creased with worry. “…Faye?” he frowned.

“We can’t stay here forever,” I mumbled.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly, shifting his body so he was facing me more directly.

I swallowed hard. “I mean, we haven’t planned anything, but…” I bit my lip. Mike’s face twisted. That was an expression I never wanted to have to see. But I guess eyesight came with good and bad things—happy and sad faces. “We only have a few more months left here…”

“I’m still confused, Faye,” Mike said. “I don’t understand. Why do you have to leave?”

“I-I… when my appointments end and they’re done with us here we have to move back home… we have to go back…” I said quietly. “We have our jobs there—”

“So you’re choosing your jobs over us?” he asked, his voice harsh and accusing. He turned and got out of the bed quickly, as if he didn’t want to be near me anymore. I flinched at his sudden movement and tears immediately started to flood my eyes.

I didn’t mean to be so sensitive, but I had never been in confrontation like this before, really—especially with someone I loved. “Faye,” Mike sighed and his eyes closed. I slid out of bed, too, standing up a few feet away from him.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and frowning. My eyes flickered across the room; Mike’s room was a mess as he had clothes scattered around his suitcase in preparation for their next tour, which they leave for in the morning. I wanted to feel sad over that—we were spending the day together trying not to think about it too much, anyway—but now I was just annoyed. My frown deepened as I realized: “And you’re leaving, too, for your job,” I pointed out. It wasn’t that I didn’t respect his job or anything—I loved what he did, I appreciated it, too, but he was being a bit of a hypocrite.

“Yeah, but it’s different. We always come back.”

“So you just expect me to wait around for you to come home? That’s unhealthy—”

“No, I don’t expect that of you. You’re allowed to have a life, I just don’t see why you have to go back to North Carolina,” he said.

“Mike, Phoebe and I don’t have permanent residence here for much longer. We still have our house back home. We can’t just abandon that!”

Mike huffed. “But what about us?” He questioned. He was suddenly shy again, like before. Just looking at his physical appearance you could get the impression that he’s a Mr. Tough Guy, but now that I really knew Mike I knew he was a softie on the inside. I didn’t like seeing him upset. But I honestly didn't know how to answer that question.

“It’s not something I’ve thought about,” I mumbled. He furrowed his eyebrows and gritted his teeth. His hands were clenched. I took a step back—I had said the wrong thing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he growled.

“Mike—”

“I can’t believe you right now! You haven’t even thought about us?” he waved his arms around, gesturing between us. “Was this your plan the entire time?”

“You were definitely not a part of the original plan!”

“Oh, fuck, thanks Faye. That means a lot—”

“That’s not what I meant! I didn’t expect to fall in love coming here! I didn’t expect to make connections!”

“When were you going to tell me this, though? When were we going to talk about it?” he asked angrily.

I sighed loudly. “I don’t know!” I exclaimed.

“You were just going to leave, weren’t you?”

“No, Mike—”

“You were just going to walk out and leave me, back to that fucking home even though no one from your list of important people lives there, back to that fucking job that you’re not even supposed to feel connected to at all,” he growled.

“Take that back!” I screamed as tears continued to burn in my eyes. “You know how important that is to me! Take it back right now!” I demanded.

“What, so I’m not important to you?”

“Don’t even go there!” I wanted to rip my hair out. I’ve never really felt anger like this before. All of these feelings that I’ve felt involving Mike were feelings that I’ve felt for the first time. I didn’t understand them and I definitely didn’t know what to do with them.

“Whatever, Faye,” he grumbled, turning his back on me.

“Mike,” I sighed.

“No. Not now,” he shook his head. “I’m leaving,” he shook his head again and dismissed the situation with a wave of his hand.

“And where are you going?! This is your house!” I pointed out, nearly letting out a bitter laugh.

“Fine. Would you like to leave then?” he spat harshly. I flinched and more tears sprung out of my eyes. I’ve cried before but for some reason these angry and upset tears felt different on my eyes, especially because I had vision along with them—but now my vision was blurred, I could make out Mike’s form but he was just a fog of color.

I didn’t understand what was happening. All of this hostility that was bubbling up inside of me and radiating outwards from Mike was making my head throb. I didn’t like fighting—I’ve never been one to pick fights—and because of my lack of fight history I didn’t know how to deal with them. I knew crying was wrong but I couldn’t help it. I knew yelling was probably wrong, too, but all I wanted to do was scream at Mike even though I was really the one at fault.

“You need to stop avoiding inevitable things, Faye,” Mike said sharply. “Open your eyes.” That was all he said, his voice low and growly and upset, before he turned away. He swung open his bedroom door and exited the room, slamming the door shut. I flinched at the sound but then stood completely still, staring at the closed door.

It wasn’t until probably a full minute later that I started to break down into heavy sobs. I crouched down onto the floor and covered my face with my hands even though I was alone and nobody could see my ugly crying. Mike was right—my eyes were closed. I was too caught up in the moment to look at the big picture and think about where I would be in a few months time. I knew that our San Diego residence was temporary but I acted like it wasn’t. It was careless, stupid, and irresponsible of me.

I wondered if Vic and Phoebe had talked about it. Did they get in a fight over it, too? Or was Vic smart, did he already figure that we couldn’t live out of a company house forever but not worry because they could make something work? Did Mike’s lack of realization for this make him a big fucking idiot?

I growled at myself and stood up, feeling a little dizzy from my crying and then the sudden movement. My bottom lip trembled and I didn’t know what to do. We were all just big fucking idiots, going forward with relationships even though we all knew—or, should have known—that me and Phoebe’s time here was on a clock, limited. I grew angry again with Mike because I wasn’t the only one who’s eyes were closed.

I sniffed and walked sadly over to his bed. It was still warm and smelled like him. I didn’t know how to handle the aftermath of an argument. I didn’t think this was right but I curled up in his sheets anyway, burying my face into his pillow and, naturally, closing my eyes, hoping that things would be better when I opened them again.

Notes

Yay another update! Lots happen in this, too!

Sorry if it the chapter is too choppy. My eyes are on fire but I can't go to sleep until I update this, I don't even know why, I just can't. But anyway I hope it's okay. I feel like it jumps around a lot but I'm not really sure. Thanks for reading xo


PS. I started a new story. It's going to be really short and I have written basically all of it already, I just decided to post it. It's called Chasing The Thought Away and it'd mean a lot if you could check it out! Thanks :)