Feather

Eleven

Michael sat in his mother's kitchen, nursing a mug of hot coffee between his hands. He just needed someone to talk to, and no one understood him more than she did. Karen seemed to really like Peyton, which helped with what he wanted to ask her. He waited as his mum finished washing the dishes that they'd used for dinner. His dad was working a night shift, so Michael decided to spend the time with his mum, killing two birds with one stone.

"Alright, I'm all done," Karen smiled, sitting opposite him with her own cup of coffee, "so, do you want to tell me what's wrong?" She asked taking a sip of her drink, hissing slightly at how hot it still was.

Michael nervously bit at the inside of his cheek, something he hasn't done since he was seventeen years old. The gesture causing his mum to frown, knowing full well that the issue he needed to discuss was bothering him greatly for him to do that after so long. It worried her. Michael was her only son, and all she ever wanted for him was for him to be happy but seeing him looking vulnerable, and anxious like this once again was heartbreaking.

"Mum," he looked at her, and she noticed that his eyes were sad for the first time in a while, "how do you know that you're in love?"

Karen had expected to be asked about relationship advice but she had definitely not expected him to be talking about love. She wasn't exactly sure how to answer, there isn't one true answer, not really, everyone views, and feels love differently. There is no right or wrong way about it, it's just how you feel, "how so, sweetheart?" She chose to say instead.

"I don't know," Michael shrugged, "like, how does it feel, and stuff."

"It's different for everyone." Karen smiled, wanting Michael to open up more about the situation before she gave any specific answer.

"So, there's this guy I know," he started, taking a deep breath, and not noticing his mum's amused eye roll, "he's with a girl, but it's not an official relationship, they're just good friends, really good friends," he smiles knowingly, "but he doesn't know if they should move forward, become a couple," he looks at his mum and she's just nodding along to his words, "but he knows he really does care about her."

"And the love, where does that come into it?" She asked.

"Like I said, he knows he cares but he feels like it's more. They kind of have a friends with benefits thing," he told her quietly, not sure about her reaction but as she didn't say anything, he carried on,"it's been going on for a few months. Now, she's the first person he thinks about when he wakes up, she's last person he texts before going to bed. There are these little lines she gets by her eyes when she laughs, that he can't get enough of. He doesn't even care that he has some of her stuff around the house. Sometimes he swaps his pillow with hers when she's not there, just because it smells like her.

"She has her own pillow! He doesn't even care that they argue about the stupidest things, that don't even matter. How she'll tidy up, and put everything in a different place so he has to ask where things are every five minutes. How he finds it hard to sleep when she's not there. He just wants to be with her all the time, it's driving him crazy." He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

"This girl," Karen began, taking a sip of her coffee, "have you met her?"

"Yeah." He says, thinking he's gotten away with his story.

"What's she like?" She rests her chin in her palm, watching him with a happy smile.

"She's got dark hair, and brown eyes that are so alive," he smiles getting a little lost in his thoughts, "she has these tattoos around her left wrist, a rose that she had done after a bad time in her life, a sunset over a wave because she loves the ocean, and a semicolon to represent her fight to keep going, even when she didn't want to.

"She has this subtle rocker edge about her, though she's probably the sweetest person you could ever meet, and she has the best laugh. It's loud, and genuine but sometimes she'll giggle about something that happened the day before, and even if you don't know what it was you'll have to join in because it's so contagious." He shook his head slightly, smiling when just thinking about it.

"Can I tell you what I think?" Karen asked, drinking the rest of her coffee.

"Well, yeah. That was kind of the point." He laughs lightly.

"I think," she smiled, "that you love Peyton so much that it scares you but you shouldn't be scared, I've seen the way she looks at you. Michael she loves you."

"I don't think it's me she loves." He looked down at his hands, picking at his nails.

"What do you mean by that?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"It's kind of embarrassing to talk about with you." Michael could feel his hands becoming clammy, rubbing them on his jeans nervously, "she... she likes being touched. That's how this all started. I mean, we were friends before but then something happened at work, and... and I told her about me, my problem. She was so sweet, mum." He looked up at her, his eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, sweetheart," Karen got up going over to him, and pulling him into a tight hug, "please don't think that way," she stroked his hair softly, "I can see that she loves you. Your dad sees it too."

"I love her, mum," he cries quietly, "I love her, and I don't know what to do."

"Shh, baby, it's okay, don't cry. Peyton loves you so much. You'll see, you're going to get together soon, okay? That's how being in love works. No matter how different it is to people, one thing is always the same, you either end up together or miles apart."

Karen kissed the top of his head, rocking him back and forth slowly, just like she used to do when Michael was a child. She took him into the living room, settling them both onto the couch, pulling the blanket over them as Michael snuggled into her side, and it made her smile. Her 6'1", twenty two year old son, that's in love for the first time, and he still managed to be her sweet little Michael.