Partners In Crime {Michael Jackson & Ariana Grande}

[37]♡hush darling♡[37]

Misty

"What do you mean you're not dying?" I yelled, pacing around the room. On one lap, nudging him purposefully.

"I only said that to get you here, I know how stubborn you are,"

"But lying to me? Estello, that's absurd,"

He shrugged, flicking his lighter, "Not really,"

"Yes. Yes, it is..." I trailed off, "...This is goodbye, anyways,"

"The day's come already, huh? Wow. Said goodbye to Eddy, Michael?"

"I- I haven't seen Michael. Have you?"

He moved his lips from his cigar and looked at me, as if he was unsure.

"No," he answered sheepishly, and I raised my eyebrows.

"I said goodbye to everyone already, so it's just you, really. So here it is, I know in a week I'm probably going to hear from you, asking for advice on drug trafficking or something, but this may be my last, personal goodbye to you. Stay healthy, Estello. And stop smoking for goodness' sake,"

He sighed, "Okay. You too, goodbye, Misty."

*

I gazed out of the plane window with tears clouding my eyes. I hadn't even got to say goodbye, properly, and that would forever replay in my mind. I hadn't seen him since the door shut.

And I didn't know if I'd see him again.

We both loved each other, there was no question about it. But it was like something didn't want us together.

I guessed it was a sign. A sign that I should move on. Though something told me I wouldn't be able to, and that something was right. It only he was there with me. He'd be squeezing my hand so tight because of the turbulence warning adding on to his fear of planes.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" A flight attendant asked me, and I turned to face her from gazing out of the window, "You need to fasten your seatbelt, we're having quite major turbulence and-" She was cut off by a jolt and had to grab onto my chair to stop herself from falling.

"Listen, this is pretty urgent and if you want to keep your life I suggest putting on your belt and taking deep breaths," She snapped, lifting her nose in the air and walking off. She clearly blamed that on me.

I sighed, discarding her warning because at that moment in time anything could've happened and I'd stay with the same, bland expression on my face.

I picked up my journal and opened it to the next blank page. I couldn't remember the day number, so I lead on from the last time I'd written; day 560.

Day 561.

I'm on the airplane. I wish I wasn't. I wish I was in his arms.

But we all wish things.

My handwriting was a bumpy mess, and the seatbelt sign kept making ping noises. Signalling I really should buckle it. But I didn't.

We have turbulence, pretty badly. I don't want to put my seatbelt on. Why? I have nothing to live for. Anymore. If I could ask him one question, it would be; If you love me, why did you walk away?

He probably has the same question for me.

Adam died because of me. I barely live knowing that, and I wouldn't live knowing the same happened to Michael because of my past.