whatever happens » michael jackson

8

[HIStory era]

I was having my coffee by the window again. It had become a habit of mine, and over the years as I grew older, I realized that it had become my routine; my comfort during the day when Michael wasn't home.

It was fall, and the leaves were bright warm colors of autumn. I loved autumn, I loved to see the rebirth of mother nature with my very own eyes.

"Baby, I'm home!" I heard him chirp in a loud voice, his footsteps becoming louder as I could picture him skipping on his feet.

37 never looked so good and joyful on a man.

I set my mug just in time before he tackled me to the floor, with such force I could barely let out an 'Oomph' before I was smashed underneath his heavy weight--not heavy, but there must've been at least a 20KG difference.

His short hair tickled my face as it came in bangs on my cheeks, and hadn't the wind been knocked out of my lungs, I would've laughed out loud. he himself was giggling as he swayed me back and forth in his arms, peppering kisses all over my face, making loud adorable noises as he did so.

Flipping us around finally, he snuck a quick kiss against my smile, and squeezed me against his chest.

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" I laughed out, returning the embrace.

"Come here!" he enthused, baring his teeth and grabbing my hand.

He pulled us up and ran to the furthest room in the house, yelling on the way, "Have a look at the back view of the ranch!"

As I saw the greenery, I felt my heart grow warm, "You really set up a rollercoaster for me?" I looked back to see him nod his head earnestly, "Oh, michael!"

I threw my arms around him, feeling his strong arms wrap around me, "Anything for my baby girl," his voice was muffled by my shoulder; he was a very passionate hugger.

I surprised him by kissing him. We weren't a very 'kissy' couple you could say.

I melted in his arms as he rubbed my back up and down, fingers tingling against my thin flannel, his legs entwining with mine.
Making our way back to the bedroom quietly, he rubbed his index finger against the back of my palm, stroking it gently.

"I'd cross oceans for you," he sighed contentedly, picking up my hand and pressing a feathery light kiss.

🕯🕯🕯