For All Time [ Michael Jackson Fanfiction ]

18 ~ Closeness

Michael

~

I cleared my throat before knocking against Blanche's apartment's door. I waited impatiently for the door to get open, tapping my foot against the hallway's floor.

I was nervous. Of course I was. I couldn't do anything about it. I was just so scared to say or do something wrong that could actually ruin everything between Blanche and I.

Now that we finally reunited, I wouldn't forgive myself if I failed everything.

"Hi !" I jumped back when I heard her voice and lifted my head to see her smirk. I was so deep in my thoughts that I hadn't seen the door getting open.

I blushed deeply and Blanche let me come in her apartment.

"How are you ?" I asked her with a smile as I looked at her. Just the sight of her face made me happy.

"I'm great," she answered and took my coat off of my shoulders.

"You didn't have to," I told her and watched her hang it on the coat rack.

"It's nothing," she chuckled and my heart jumped when I saw her smile. "Did you have any problem coming here ?" she asked me and I understood she was talking about fans or paparazzi.

"No, it was okay." I replied and stretched. "I drove by myself."

When we were dating, Blanche was always scared and intimidated by paparazzi. She hated going out of the house alone so I hired her some bodyguards when she wasn't with me. Now that we weren't together anymore, it seemed like journalists left her alone, probably thinking that "she wasn't interesting anymore".

"What do you want to eat tonight ?" she asked as I followed her to the kitchen. I hummed as I thought about her question, watching her look at the ingredients she had.

"I don't know." I said, way too lazy to actually search for a recipe. "Whatever you cook is going to be delicious, anyway." I smirked and heard her snort.

"Yeah, yeah..." she said in a negligent way. She then paused through her rummaging and turned to me with furrowed brows. "Actually," she smirked. "I'm sure you improved your cooking skills now that you don't have any woman to cook for you," she said and I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up, I've got a cooker." I reminded her.

Blanche loved so much cooking that I barely saw my cooker when we were dating.

"My bad, hopefully they were here when you were married to Lisa," Blanche continued. "I heard she's terrible at everything." she laughed and I shook my head with a smile.

"You're ridiculous," I told her and poured myself a glass of water.

"Is vegetarian lasagna fine with you ?" she asked, putting her hand on her hip as she waited for my approval. I nodded while drinking and watched her start her cooking.

"So," I started, looking inconsistently at her butt as she leaned down to take something, her back to me. "How's it going with your new friend- uh, what's his name again ?" I asked even though I knew exactly what was his name.

"Harry," she mumbled with a frown.

It didn't look like it was doing alright.

Good.

"Tell me," I demanded, suddenly really interested by their friendship. "Is he treating you like he should ?"

The question seemed almost funny as I was the one who didn't treat her like she deserved to be treated like.