Saved By Your Love

15. Be Mine

Friday 26th June 1987

Sheri's POV

I had an interesting day at work at the daycare. During craft-making, this adorable three-year-old boy thought it'd be cool to eat a ton of glitter and to bedazzle his and the clothes of the kids around him with it. My hands were covered in tiny gold sparkles no matter how much I tried to wash 'em. It didn't help that the boy smothered his hands in PVA glue first.

There was a staff meeting immediately after my shift ended and I was too busy picking glitter and glue off my hands to pay attention. By the end, there was a small neat pile of it left on the table. Faith was there too and we both got off from work at around 7 pm. Michael called me that morning and asked if I could visit him at the studio again after work. I told him not to get his hopes up, but I wanted to go. Real bad. So, I thought I'd show up outta the blue! I asked Faith if she could take Joy back home for that one night as I had some "errands" to run. I'm pretty sure she knew what I was actually up to. I'd have taken Joy with me but I was certain she'd end up knocking over a microphone stand again. I took the bus there and walked a couple blocks to the building. Michael must have had someone inform the receptionists that he was possibly expecting somebody, as they let me in without a second guess.

I remembered how to get to Michael's studio. When I entered that massive room, it was dimly lit. And quiet. There was a lone figure moving on the dance stage under a single spotlight, feet moving too fast for me to keep eye on 'em, vocalizing percussion-like sounds that echoed around me. I stood and watched, so impressed by his talent. He took no notice of me, so I slowly tip-toed towards the stage, creeping like a robber. Michael finished with a pose, hand on his hat, facing the mirrors. I leaned to the side so he'd see my reflection and eyes met mine in the mirror. I gave a sly little wave and he turned around quickly.

"Hey, hotshot," I casually said.

I stepped onto the stage to join him, under the spotlight which shone above us. There was a thin layer of sweat glistening on Michael's face and neck. His blue shirt was unbuttoned and untucked, revealing a red t-shirt underneath which slightly stuck to him.

He wiped sweat from his brow and had a pleased, yet confused smile, "Sheri, what are you doing here, girl?"

He was slightly breathless. His cheeks were red, either from all that dancing heating him up or 'cause he was embarrassed that he was being watched. He stood like a statue with his hands behind his back.

I shrugged and walked around him. "Thought I'd come and surprise ya."

"What a lovely surprise," he said, "I didn't think you'd come."

"Hey, I try not to disappoint," I smirked. "Where's Quincy and the gang?"

"They've all gone out to pick up dinner. They left about ten minutes ago."

"Why didn't you go along with 'em?"

Michael shook his head and scrunched his face in disinterest.

"Well, if there ain't nobody here, then I guess it's alright if I do this..." I bit my lip and kissed him, not wanting to waste the chance. Each one left him wanting more. When space came between us again, he looked away, but he couldn't hide that red glow on his face.

It was time to have a little fun and put him on the spot. "I saw you dancing. Cool moves."

"You saw that?" He covered his face with his hands.