- Michael has been asking about you, - the doctor began casually, though there was an undertone to her voice. - he comes in for his insulin shots, but he seems to have taken interest in your well-being.
My brow raised in surprise. A small smile came as I glanced down. - he just cares.
- it's good to have friends. He seems like he cares.
- Michael is like that - I said, my voice softening. - he's watching out for everyone. As I prepared to leave the infirmary, the sound of footsteps caught my attention. I looked back and saw Michael being escorted by a guard to the adjacent room for his insulin shot. He looked tired, his usual sharp gaze softened. When the doctor left the room i entered the room Michael was in, finding him sitting on the edge of the cot, adjusting his sleeve to make it easier for the doctor to administer the shot.
Tattoos on display, i smiled, they were masterpieces. His head turned, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly when he saw me. - Didn't know you were coming in here, - Michael said, his tone surprised. I leaned against the doorframe,
- didn't know you had diabetes, - i uttered surprised.
- I've had it for as long as I remember.
- how's your arm? he asked, his voice low.
I shrugged, - It's healing. Slowly, but surely. - without saying anything else, Michael stood up and moved closer. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
- you're hard to stay mad at,
you know? - i whispered to him.
Michael chuckled softly, his breath brushing against the top of her head. - I don't like giving you reasons to be mad at me. When they pulled apart, i looked over to see Dr. Tancredi watching us.
I slipped into Michael's cell, the soft clink of the door echoing in the space. Sucre, who was sitting on the bottom bunk, gave me a nod, before standing up. - I'll give you guys some time, - he said, patting Michael on the back before slipping out into the hallway.
It's been a few days since the shower situation and the tension between us was sensible, it certainly wasn't just attraction. I sat down on the bunk, while Michael leaned against the wall across from me, arms folded.
- so, - i began, voice soft.
- tell me something about your life before - he asked slowly.
- i became an assassin for my father's mob after mother's death. Um .. i traveled all the way to Japan to learn ninjutsu and by seventeen years old i was already very good trained. I murdered people as if it was nothing. - i whispered that part, sighing i countinued - I wanted to end that life, leave it behind, then i moved to Paris, but my dad made me come back and then framed me here - i told him that story as it wasn't hard for me. As if it was too easy. Michael came and sat down beside me, his thumb brushed over the
back of my hand, touch comforting.
- we've all done things we regret - he said softly. Without thinking, i leaned forward, pressing my lips to his in a soft kiss, one that spoke more gratitude. When i pulled back, Michael's eyes met mine, filled with intensity.
- I can't stop thinking about the shower we shared, - I admitted with a small, nervous laugh.
Michael raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. - the shower?
I nodded, biting my lower lip. - I keep imagining touching you and how your skin felt against me. - i whispered. - I like us. Whatever this is.
- I like us too. And I want us, Emma - he admitted. Michael smiled, tucking my hair behind ear and kissing my lips. - I want to do more than just shower with you, - he whispered.
I got up and as i was leaving his cell, Michael grabbed my hand. - I adore you, - he whispered, and reciprocated it.
- me too.
Michael got me on Pl, i knew i needed to help with the escape. The jumpsuit was awful, the colour was adorable, but it gave me zero form. I followed behind Michael as we made our way to the storage room.
A fire happened a day prior all thanks to Michael and Westmoreland. The more this plan was panning out, the more I realised how thoughtful Michael was with this. As we walked to the storage room, T-Bag ran up to the tence.
- Hey, hold up a minute. Hold up here. Seems to be a bit of confusion. I'm supposed to be on this detail, - T-Bag expressed, holding onto the fence.
Abruzzi turned to CO Patterson and then looked back to T-Bag. - I don't think so.
- Oh, John. You can't be serious. Not after our long, illustrious history we shared together. All those nights in New York City, - he taunted, and Michael looked over to him. - In California. In St. Louis. - is hand clasped the fence, rattling it a little. - They were good times, weren't they, John? Tell the badge here about 'em. Cause if you don't want to, I certainly could.
