𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 • 𝕞.𝕔

chapter 15

•••

   The smell of pizza in this little, tiny Pizza Hut was making me feel good inside, as stupid as it sounded. I loved pizza, and I could eat only this for the rest of my life, but then again, who couldn't? I was glad that was at least Michael and I could share. Food-wise, we liked the same things, and music-wise, too.

The more we spoke, the more I found out that a few things were actually linking us, in a good way. I had discovered parts of his personality I liked, too, as well as some I didn't like so much. But I couldn't have everything now, could I? I sat on the stool near the counter, waiting to get our dinner. Michael was standing right next to me. I was staring at his face, appreciating his features, when a voice made me doze off my daydream.

"Congratulations on the baby," the cashier said. "You guys make an adorable couple."

Michael grabbed the pizzas and smiled. "Thank you."

   I didn't have the time to even say anything, we both were already gone. This first guy commenting on my pregnancy made me feel sort of proud, and kind of shy at the same time. I hadn't really paid attention to how I dressed, and I often forgot that when wearing tight clothing, my belly would inevitably show. I blushed a little, following Michael outside quietly. When we both got in his car, he turned the radio up, and beamed.

"Oh, my fuck, this is one of our songs," he smiled brightly. "Listen, Lee this is my song!

"You sound so enthusiastic about it," I noticed. He motioned for me to shush, so I did, and the whole car ride was spent with him singing along. I hadn't really heard all of the songs he had been recording before with his band. I knew he was working on the album, apparently, but I didn't know much more about it.

Actually, I had never met his band mates, and I wondered how they had reacted to the whole pregnancy thing. He hadn't really told me.

   When we arrived at his place, the night was starting to fall. Michael had taken ages to find the pizza place, and we had spent a good hour arguing in the car about where to go. He was picky, that boy, and also awfully stubborn. Number one of the traits he had I disliked, but which I had to live with, because at the end of the day, I wasn't trying to change him.

"Home at last," he sighed. "Sorry about me being fussy, I just am picky when it comes to pizza."

"God, I saw that," I joked. "And yet, we ended up in Pizza Hut..." I sat beside him on the couch, and he turned the TV on. "Michael, you haven't talked to me much about your band mates yet."

"Oh, yeah," he said, as if he had just remembered. "They said me they wanted to meet you."

"Did they?" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I forgot," he handed me a slice. "I'm sorry about that. I think you would like them."

I bit into the slice, and nodded. "Okay, then, we need to plan around this. It's frankly odd I haven't met them yet... And you have to meet Emma, too. If she ever decides to talk to me again."

"Are you kidding me?!" he laughed. "Lee, we are going to be hissing at each other the day we meet."

"That is... True," I noticed. "But one day or another, this is going to happen. You know, she doesn't really like you, but she's kind of great, really."

"She must be, if you love her that much," he said.

   And at the moment he pronounced those words, I could feel that he wasn't bitter. That he didn't hate her. That me thinking that he was a hateful person at first had been once more, another wrong opinion I had made up in my mind.

•••

"Are you sleeping?" I asked, as I felt Michael move beside me. "Michael."

"Lee. No, I can't," he whined. "My mind is kind of racing."

   Mine, too, I wanted to reply, but instead, I took a deep breath, and reached for his hand.

"Are you okay? You can tell me whatever," I reassured him.

"I am thinking about us, and the whole thing, and it's keeping me awake."

"About what in particular?"

"I'm worried that I'm not being good enough for you, and I probably sound so fucking stupid, but it's the truth of it. I know you are expecting so much from me, and I am afraid I can't give you and the baby what you want."

"Michael, don't think that, please," I retorted, my voice soft as I spoke. "You are doing a great job, you're an... You're an amazing friend. I'm scared that I'm not good enough as well, you know, I am just here, pregnant with your baby, getting attached. I feel like... You're young and you deserve to have fun, see other people, who knows. You can, after all, that is none of my business. You're allowed."

"I don't want to," he whispered. "It's just weird, we are linked, and I feel like we just... Are. Like, even if there wasn't a baby, I don't know, I feel like something is just... You know, something's there."

I sat up, and released his hand from mine. I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah."

"How has it been six months already?" he sat up, too, his bare torso lit up by the white light of the moon peeking through the curtains. "Can you imagine? Six fucking months since we slept together."

   There was so much tension, I could feel it in my bones. I scratched the back of my neck, looking for something to say. I just laid back down, Michael following my movement. We didn't say anything for a while. I had to admit that the situation between us had been pretty strange; friends, who were expecting a baby. Friends? More like strangers.

I kept thinking about that old man complimenting how good we'd looked together earlier, trying to convince myself that I didn't like him in that way.

   I had no clue why I was trying to refrain myself from liking him. After all, what was the worst thing that could happen? As I laid there, right next to him, I could feel the warmth of his body. I wanted to come closer, this was human nature, but instead, I just sighed loudly, and turned to my side, feeling the weight in my stomach.

Michael was staring at me, and when he smiled, I smiled right back. I wanted to move closer than we already were, and refrained myself. His eyes were still wide open, and I could see them clearly, fives inches away from mine.

"I really want you to kiss me," he whispered.

   When he pronounced those words, butterflies started flying in my stomach.I felt my heart beating louder, harder, and I wanted to move, but was just unable to. I touched the side of his face with my left hand, and he closed his eyes.

I approached, and planted a small kiss on his lips. He almost didn't move them, but I felt so many things at once; all of these weeks just trying to tell myself things weren't going to go that way hadn't made me feel any less infatuated with him. I kissed him again, and this time, he moved, his hand brushing my arm, holding my waist tightly, to bring me closer to him. I let myself go, and felt his breath on my mouth, when he kissed me again, his plump lips moving perfectly against mine. Those were lazy, tired kisses, but also terribly awaited. We didn't stop quite yet, breathing for air occasionally, savouring the moment we had both been waiting for a long time. And as his lips were on mine, before leaving them to peck my cheek swiftly, I wanted to tell myself that I couldn't put aside the feelings I was developing for him for ever.

It was too difficult, and I knew it perfectly.

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