❥𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 || 𝑀𝐽 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 /𝒞ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓉ℯ𝒹 /❥•

∴♡Haunted(Bad Era) - Part Two♡∴

 *.:｡✿*ﾟHere's to yet another chapter that I, as a rather inadequate writer, hope doesn't suck.

Enjoy!

»»————-　♔　————-««

"It's a miracle, Mr. Jackson. I don't know what else it could be! Despite falling from such a height, she didn't suffer a single scratch,"

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♡ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You open your eyes slowly, feeling a little stiffness in your neck as you carefully begin to assess your surroundings. Immediately, your eyes land upon your husband who seems to be leaning against the window frame at the far end of the room - looking out reflectively.

Widening your eyes ever so slightly, you instantly become aware that you are in a hospital room and flashbacks of the accident begin to fill your mind.

A slight gasp leaves your mouth at the overwhelming sensation of recollection, capturing Michael's attention as he eventually turns to face you slowly - a look of pure concern plastered on his face.

His eyes meet yours and for several brief moments, the two of you stay staring at each other. The silence in the room seems to loom over the two of you, urging one to say something - neither being confident enough.

"Must you do this to me?" Michael finally breaks the silence, walking up to you at an agonizingly slow pace. "What if something had happened to you?"

As you watch the man you love approach you, a sad smile finds its way onto your beautiful face.

"Why do we keep deceiving ourselves Michael?" you sigh lightly, continuing to keep your gaze fixed on his face. "It is clear that you and I have drifted apart. You are no longer the man I married..." you trail off as you look away from him. "Maybe we should file for a divorce,"

"(Y/N)," he says quickly, rushing toward your side, getting down on his knees and kissing the back of your hand before looking up to focus on your face - clutching your small hand in his large ones. "Please, don't say that. I love you..." he shakes his head before continuing. "And I know I haven't been much of a man to you lately but...why don't we go somewhere? Just the two of us; no calls, nothing. We'll mend our relationship, bridge the gap that has come between us," he searches your eyes desperately.

"What about the business group from Hong Kong?" you whisper softly, your expression skeptical.

"I don't care about that anymore," he shakes his head. "You are my concern. We can go anywhere you want. Italy, London-"

"Let's go to the beach house," you cut him off gently, making him focus on you yet again. "Where we fell in love. Where it all started,"

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♡ .⋅} ────── ⊰

As you enter the lavish beach house, the opening of it's front doors seem to echo to no end. The large living area is utterly immaculate, everything just as it was the last time you remember it. 

Over two years ago, this is the place you'd met Michael Jackson. The man that everyone talked about, the man that everyone adored.

This beach house was where he came to find some solitude. This had been where he'd come to find some peace of mind to give his being redemption of some sort.