Forever and a Half || Michael Jackson

Chapter Thirty-Four - Under The Stars

It's been so long, my lovelies! But I'm back now! 😭

Did ya miss me? ;)

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Chapter thirty-four – Under The Stars

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-Citria's point of view-

Poor Michael; seeing him in the state he was in earlier hurt me badly. He really wasn't in a good place at all – cuts and splinters all over him, and he himself a shivering, shaking, crying ball by the tree. I'm just glad that I found him before he did anything he might've regretted.

Anyway, now we're walking to the fields; even at past 1:00am, I'm sure it'll be nice for us both. It's mostly for Michael's benefit though, to be honest; but that's enough of a benefit to me. I'm slightly concerned though; the cuts looked quite serious, which kind of made me worry about whether or not I should take him to the hospital, but he's assured me it's fine and shouldn't be worried about, so I'm trying to take his word for it.

"What made you want to come out here anyway?" I question softly, walking by his side.

"I don't know. Maybe just fresh air," he answers quietly, probably still a little shaken up from the injuries he received earlier.

"I see." With no more to say on the topic, I try to think of a new one. "Um ... " I murmur out loud, feeling stupid a moment later because I have nothing to add to it.

"It's okay to be silent sometimes," Michael then speaks up, causing me to look at him. He sees me watching him, so elaborates a little. "I mean ... one another's company is enough ... isn't it? Sometimes silence is the best; you don't have to hear anything – just feel."

"Right," I agree, trailing off a little at the end from the embarrassment of having tried to start a new conversation.

The rest of the walk is silent, but luckily it's only a short journey from home to the fields. We reach the highest peak of the hill, before sitting there together. Michael falls back, allowing himself to lie on the grass, causing me to do the same as him, lying next to him.

He then points up at the sky, letting out a soft sigh. "Look. Look up there. You see all those stars?"

My eyes avert upwards, and I notice all the little shiny white dots in the jet black sky. The contrast of light on dark is gorgeous.

"I see them," I mutter, overwhelmed by how beautiful the sight is.

"That's what I've spent most nights looking at. That's what I spent tonight looking at, before everything started going wrong," he goes on to admit. "Um ... w-what do you think of the stars?"

"Me?" My eyes mentally join the stars, to form pictures of love hearts and flowers and five-sided stars. "Well ... the stars, to me, are very special. They ... they represent all the angels that have lost their lives."

"Me too," Michael tells me. "Great minds think alike, don't they?" Although his words seem happy, his tone is still a little sad-sounding.

"They sure do." My gaze moving off the stars, I sigh softly to myself. Instead, I look at Michael, who is busy admiring the sky, still. His eyes contain a sparkle which never ceases to amaze me; it's like, even when he's sad, there's still magic in those eyes of his. I love that about him.