As i walked outside, in his basketball shorts and a sweatshirt, looking like a wet lion, the first thing i saw was my man. The feelings he gives me with one look... With one look, it feels like i could have a normal life, Like we all could, like mom and dad werent gone and me and michale could get married and come home to see mom and dad and cali on holidays. Like the last six months had all been a dream.
He was carrying a sweatshirt... The sweatshirt i had stolen from him in 9th grade. A few days before i had lost my father. He called it my comfort sweatshirt, i held that sweatshirt so many nights after. my dad had always said he couldn't have made a better boy for me himself. It was on one of those nights when he would sneak out to see me, make sure that i was okay, that i realised what my dad meant. He truly was perfect.
"I dont know why, but i felt like you needed this tonight" he mumbled afyer a long pause, seemingly wanting to come in.
I grabbed his hand, leading him into the house.
"lets have that quiet night in" i said, smiling at him.
"you look so beautiful. How'd i get so lucky?" he said, his southern drawl slipping up as it sometimes did when he let go and allowed himself to be comfortable.
It is so cute when he does that.
"i was just wondering the same thing of you" i replied with a content grin.
So this is what normal feels like.
After a pause, i began making us dinner, although he begged to help.
"its a little late for dinner, dont you think?" he whispered in my ear, making me jerk away from his touch.
"too soon?" he said apologetically.
"no, no, im sorry baby." i replied guiltily.
"you just scared me, i shouldn't be so jumpy."
"i understand" he nodded patiently, grabbing my hands as he sat me down.
"you never have to say sorry again, because i love you. I dont care how sorry you are,you will always be perfect to me."
He said. Dang it, there go the tears.
I never used to cry before we lost mom. Not ever. Now it was almost always. I never wanted him to see me cry. I hate pitty, it makes me feel like im guilty.
"i know this is hard baby" he said softly, attempting to comfort me. Its hard for me to let others help. I just wanna run away, and start to fight him, but he holds my arms and kisses my widows peak.
"i dont want to see u cry anymore. What can i do?" he asked, with a quizzical, concerned look.
Even when hes angry, my tall dark and handsome seems... Perfect.
We met in 2nd grade, when we were in class and a boy took my crayons. Michale took the crayons back, hit him in the arm, and told me his name. I told him everyone called me mickey. He decided to call me minnie.
"do you have a best friend?" i asked hopefully.
"yeah!" he replied, giving me a sinking feeling.
"why are you sad?" he asked, seeing my disappointment "its you!" he said wittily. From that day on, we faced everything together.
He didnt have a dad. his ran out when his mom was pregnant. Therefore, by "adoption" (aka me introducing him as my brother to my dad) they became close. My dad was like a dad to him, and he made it his mission to make it up to him.
When my dad died, michale took it upon himself to take care of me, my mom, and cali. Secretly, i always took care of him in return.
In 2nd grade, he wanted to be a superhero, but, by 5th grade he discovered that was impossible. To him, the next best thing was being like my dad.
Therefore, he went into the academy srtaight out of highschool, graduated top of his class, and is now a cop, just like daddy. Im so proud of him, and cant believe he loves me too, but he does. I smelt something burning... "Bacon!" he exclaimed, nudging me out of the way to finish a "late dinner."
He put the.eggs, toast, hash browns and bacon down, like a waiter, making me giggle. To the living room? He suggested, turning on "pirates of the caribean."
"of course!!!" i exclaimed, excitedly.
He knows me so well.
"goodnight, baby girl" he whispered tenderly, kissing me on the nape of the neck, assuming i was asleep. (i didnt correct him.) he walked out quietly so as not to wake me. "Goodnight" i whispered as the door closed. "be safe" i whispered, praying God would protect him.
