He called me, asking if he can come over. I knew what this meant. He was stuck and ready to relapse. We both have our own senses of self-harm. I sleep with people to get over my past, and he thinks about more permanent solutions to get happy again. I try and make him feel simple again. Holding him-
A knock on my window interrupted my thoughts. He knew damn well that I didn't have to get up, so he slipped the already slightly open window and slithered his way through and to my bed. Wrapping himself around me like a lost, and turned to good, serpent. He didn't mean to be this way, and I loved him this way. Perfect.
His depressed, mumbled words came out, "Can we talk?"
"We're talking now, Mikey." I giggled trying to lighten his mood.
He enjoyed that, I could tell with his still muffled chuckle, "You are officially my favorite person ever."
"You're mine-"
"No. I mean seriously. You mean the world to me and I don't ever want you to forget that, or feel hated by me. I could never hurt you and still want to live."
I nodded and leaned into his touch, whispering as if I said those words, he might leave, "You're mine, too. Please don't ever let me be alone like I was?"
He kissed my hair, whispering back, "Never"
He still held my favorite touch. My favorite person. My favorite feeling of non-sexual pleasure. He made me feel good just with existence. It's been a year and he's still my favorite person.
"Good, because I need you."
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Michael's Flower |M.G.C| AU
FanfictionHe hated his flower, and she took them all the time. It was what she was known around school for. She took flowers willingly, as it was her addiction.
