Tell Me You Love Me

Awkward.

Prince flipped through his keys until he found the one for his front door. Michael watched silently, and his anxiety spiked up as Prince shoved the key into the lock and turned it. He had never been to his house before, and he was unfathomably nervous to see it and be there... alone... with him. Within seconds, the door was open and he was luring him inside.

Michael looked around in astonishment; the house was undoubtedly beautiful just as he anticipated, but it wasn't exactly what he expected to see. Prince took notice of Michael's surprise. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Michael shook his head. "No," he answered. "It's just that I expected there to be more purple."

Prince chortled. His misconceptions about his life style were quite entertaining. "Contrary to popular belief, Mikey dear," he began, "purple is not my favorite color, although it is a very beautiful one. It represents royalty which is why I wear it often, usually in public. But I'm not that conceited enough to make everything I own that color. Believe it or not, I don't think I'm above everyone else, though it is the attitude I tend to give off. The attitude really spices up the 'badass' persona." Michael nodded his head apathetically; he was not convinced that Prince's public persona could be considered "badass," but he felt that if he didn't show some form of agreement, he would get offended. He brought Michael into another room and sat him down on a couch. "You wait here."

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but before he could form any sound, Prince was gone. "Oh boy," he said under his breath as he tapped his fingers on his thighs nervously. "This is fine. Everything's fine." His voice was shaky, and he was doing a horrible job of convincing himself that everything was indeed okay. "Prince is an attractive guy, and that doesn't mean anything. There are a lot of attractive guys out there, and you don't have feelings for a single one of them. Finding people attractive does not mean you are attracted to them. You're fine. You'll be okay."

Prince came back with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. He sat down next to Michael and placed the glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch. He popped open the bottle and poured the drinks. He handed a glass to Michael. Michael accepted the glass hesitantly as Prince raised his own for a toast. "To the best unexpected friendship," Prince said with a smile as he tapped Michael's glass with his own. He took a sip of his wine. He peered over the edge of his glass and saw that Michael wasn't drinking. He sat his glass on the table. "Is there a reason you're not drinking?"

Michael smiled nervously and rested his glass on his lap. "I don't know," he replied. "I guess I'm just not in the mood for alcohol right now."

"Michael, I would be personally insulted if you didn't drink," Prince lied. He wouldn't actually be offended if Michael abstained from drinking, but he really wanted him to. He wanted to experiment with Michael; he wanted him to drink to excess and experience what his state of intoxication was like for the sake of curiosity. 

Michael moved the glass from his lap to the table. "Maybe later," he said as he wiped his hands on his thighs. "You said purple wasn't your favorite color. If it isn't purple, what is it?"

Prince let out a brief laugh. Of course Michael would be caught up in such insignificant details. "Orange." He picked up his glass from the table and took another sip. He figured he would ask the same since there was no harm in learning more about one another. "What's yours?"