❥𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤||𝑀𝐽 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠•𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒/𝒞ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓉ℯ𝒹/❥

♡Not Alright♡

✽SET IN THE DANGEROUS ERA✽

|1993|

You opened your eyes and groaned. Your head was pounding, and your eyes felt dry. Next to you, your husband of five years - Michael Jackson, was sleeping peacefully. Sitting up, you shook your head. For the past few weeks, you had been feeling incredibly ill. You were always throwing up, and you always seemed to have a fever.

Your husband had urged you to see a doctor about the situation, but you refused to do so. You hated going to see a doctor, so your mind had been made up. Running your fingers through your hair, you let out a breath before getting up from the bed. Walking over to the bathroom, you covered your mouth. The bathroom door was open, so you managed to enter quietly.

Bending over the toilet bowl, you began to throw up. Tears filled your eyes, and your stomach began to hurt. You regurgitated for a few seconds before you felt someone holding your hair back, and rubbing your back gently.

Without turning around, you knew that it was your husband. You waited several more minutes before you were convinced that you did not have to throw up again. Flushing the toilet, you straightened up slowly - walking toward the cabinet. You opened it and grabbed a mouth wash bottle.

You proceeded to clean your mouth, as Michael stared at you. Once you were done, you put the bottle away before turning to face your husband. He had a worried look on his face, and he was leaning against the door frame with folded arms.

"(Y/N), you've been throwing up, non-stop for the past few weeks, you need to see a doctor," he breathed.

You shook your head, and used the back of your hand to wipe away the bit of water that was on your face.

"I'm fine," you lied. You still felt horrible, and tired. "I'll be fine,"

Michael stared at you, seemingly studying your features.

"(Y/N), I want you to see a doctor,"

"And I don't want to see a doctor," you retorted. "I'm fine, Michael, let's go back to sleep,"

It was two in the morning, so the sky was still dark. Michael had a meeting to go to the next day, and you felt bad for disturbing him.

"I can't sleep without knowing that you'll be alright," he answered as you fiddled with your wedding ring. "I really want you to see a doctor," he repeated. "Please,"

"Michael, I told you that I'm fine. Now if you really love me, you'll drop the subject altogether,"

Michael groaned and shook his head. It was clear that he did not want to drop the subject, mainly because he cared about how you felt.

"Fine," he sighed. "But this does not mean that I've given up on getting you to see a doctor," he kept his eyes on you.

You giggled and nodded slightly. "I think I know that you're going to try to persuade me to do what you want," you grinned a little at him.

"You thought right," he chuckled. "I just want you to be alright," he shook his head.

"I am alright," you moved in, and kissed your husband's cheek. "I promise,"

•⊱♡⊰•

At around nine, the next morning, Michael had left for the studio to sort a few things out. You were alone in the bedroom that you shared with your husband, and you had just finished having your shower. You felt fresh, wearing a cute summer dress. You missed your husband, but he said that he would be back at around three in the afternoon.