whatever happens » michael jackson

75

[Thrad era]

"Oh my God, girl, will you just chill out and act rationally!" he let out an exasperated yell, throwing his arms in the air.

"Well, how in the name of bloody hell do you expect me to 'chill out and act rationally' when you bought a freaking chimpanzee to live with us!" I yelled back, my eyes wide as he couldn't even bother to see it from my point of view.

"It's just Bubbles," he huffed out, as if that was any better.

"Yeah, just a wild animal that can rip our organs out any time," I scoffed at him, my arms folded as he held his ground in the living room.

"Just grow the hell up and stop being immature about it! He's living with us and that's final," he slammed his hand down on the coffee table, causing my teacup that I'd been drinking from earlier to topple and shatter.

Ouch. That one hurt.

Watching him angrily stomp his foot, I held the bridge of my nose as I tried to breathe in and out.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest room for a while," I jerked my thumb towards it, and I saw fear fill his eyes; we'd never spent a night apart from each other, "Your dinner is on the stove, just heat it up and you'll be fine."

"I'll sleep with you when I'm done—"

"No, your immature wife wants to be alone for some time," I snapped, causing him to reel back and let me be.

I made it a point to slam the door after me, because, really, that last remark of his was rather unnecessary. Ha, immature my ass. If he wanted immature, then he can get immature.

***

The next morning, I woke to a soft knock on my door.

"Come in," my slightly croaky morning voice said, and I had to clear my throat before repeating it, "Come in."

I couldn't be mad at him forever, but he really had to apologize.

Expecting to see a twenty seven year old husband, I found a small chimp instead making his way to me, smartly dressed in a red dress shirt like Michael's, adorned with little gold buttons, and holding something behind his back.

I was weary, very weary, of what Bubbles—wasn't that his name?—was about to do, so I sat still on the bed and waited for him to appear under me.

Bubbles gave me a sheepish grin, before holding out his arms from behind him and presenting me with a few flowers: peonies, to be exact, and lord knows how much I love yellow peonies.

"Why thank you Bubbles!" I kindly said in a baby voice; seeming as though he could do no harm gave me enough bravery to take them from his warm and furry hands, placing them on the bed before patting his head.

Scurrying off somewhere, he returned hand in hand with his owner.

"Can I sit down?" he meekly asked, touching his mustache nervously.

"Of course," I patted the space beside me, and he eagerly crawled in, cuddling me close to his chest.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Bubbles sneak out of the room and leave us alone.

"I'm really sorry for being horribly mean to you and insulting you," he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to my lips, his facial hair tickling me, "You're not the least bit immature, if anyone is then it's me for not being able to man up and listen to you."

"It's fine, just as long as you don't make it a habit of surprising me with wild animals then yelling at me for protesting," I snorted at the thought of turning our house into a zoo.

"Don't worry, next time I'll bring a zebra and not tell you at all," he joked, before yelping as I smacked his arm.

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