Partners In Crime {Michael Jackson & Ariana Grande}

[12]♡death did its part♡[12]

Michael

I shrugged, standing up to walk towards the kitchen, "Coming?"

"I- I think I'm going to get changed. I'm still in my dress from yesterday. I'll probably never wear this again, either."

I nodded, leaving her to change. I sat at the counter; this woman who I barely knew had changed my life in three days.

What was I going to do with her?

I couldn't just leave her in a hotel. It wouldn't be right – or safe. If they could get into her locked apartment with no trace, why wouldn't they do the same to a hotel?

My suitable deliberations were interrupted by a recollection to the feeling of her lips against mine. I don't know why I cried – not my manliest move. All these memories of Jessica just came slithering their way into my mind. Then I realised she wasn't Jessica. But I didn't want her to be.

Misty wasn't a rebound, or a recovery. She was a mystery, waiting to be solved.

I spun in my chair when I heard the slight click of heels becoming nearer, and I was met with a pair of big brown eyes in the doorway.

She was wearing an oversized wool dress with white knee high boots. Eccentric.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" She said. Her tone was slightly seductive, and she did that habit of hers. That habit...

"N-nothing. I mean, you look nice. Real nice."

"I thought you didn't know how you felt?"

"And I still don't. But I know that seeing you in something other than black isn't only shocking."

"What are you implying?"

By this time, she was standing in front of me, with one hand on her hip and another fiddling near her mouth.

I pulled her face closer to mine, and she had an expression of gravity painted on it.

"You're not going to a hotel. Nor are you going back to your apartment. You're not going anywhere, actually."

"Fine by me," She whispered, as her face was close enough to mine.

I leaned in to her, and then paused. "You didn't even hesitate," I said with a smirk, before letting go of her face. She looked stunned – dissatisfied.

"Tease," She muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

Misty sat down, and remained fiddling silently for a few minutes. 

"Did I upset you that much?"

"No, it isn't that." She sighed, "I don't feel right sleeping in your wife's bed. It taunts me. Like you sleeping in- in his."

I knew who she was referring to – and I could understand where she was coming from.

"Especially with all her stuff it just- it makes me feel awful."

"I can't bring myself to get rid of it all. Though her family have wrote asking for it, I don't feel as if it's theirs to claim."

"I'm not asking you to get rid of it Michael. I get that. I just don't want to feel as if I'm intruding."

"You're not." I answered quickly. I had thought about this too.

"We're going out again tonight, by the way. And not to the bar."

Misty had a puzzled look on her face. "Don't worry," I finished, "But you have a phone call to make first."

Misty's facial expression changed from puzzled to afraid, and I rested a hand on hers as a sign of comfort.