TOUGH LOVE • MICHAEL GRAY FANFIC

9

I've always been an anxious person. I can fondly recall mum and dad taking me to the park one morning and seeing a set of dogs. I was so scared of them, I must've been four at the time, a child should be enchanted by dogs. But I was so bloody nervous, my arms, legs, core, everything was shaking.

They're harmless, Juney. Mum would coo, running her hand through my hair. Absolutely harmless.

But you see, in my head, I was forming this scenario of these dogs running my way. Barking nonstop, somehow making their way past mum, past dad and attacking me.

Don't be scared, I had told myself as I took Michael's hand and guided him to my bedroom. Don't be scared. But I could feel my heart beating, and I knew I was scared beyond belief, concern creeping into my bones like an unwanted guest.

But we found each other. And we love each other. If not now, then when? And with whom?

My bedroom is small, but big enough for me. There are few bras scattered about, heels I've never worn, my nursing kit just in case I'm on house calls. I've got my wallet and purse on my headboard, alongside hair ties. Clothes are all in my closet, with the exception of a few stragglers scattered on the floor. My jewelry is tucked away in a beautiful marble box I was able to keep from the salvaged things from the fire. I was fortunate enough to get mum and dads wedding rings as well. All things I had to go to court for once I escaped the awful orphanage.

I swallow, turning around slowly to face Michael. He looks around, drinking it all in. "This is your room." He looks at me, "Looks like your room, you were never very creative." He's a full head taller than me, a full head.

"No." I gush, "I can't decorate for shit, couldn't even dress myself like a proper lady." Mixed-matched clothes, pink dresses with bright blue bows and yellow heels.

"You did good." He swears.

"Ahhh," I seize, "You're just being nice."

I look at my bed and giggle at the thought of how small he is for it. How are the both of going to fit on it? And oh God, it squeaks. Bloody hell, I could almost hear the squeaks that'll come out of it. I press my palm against my forehead, looking up at him.

His eyes burn into mine, a smile on his face. "What are you so smiley about?"

"My bed," I mention behind him, "It's going to be too short for you. I bet your toes will be sticking out."

He laughs, turning around and looking at the bed, "June," He shakes his head, returning his gaze back to me. Michael runs his fingertips through the ends of my hair. "You nervous, love?"

Love. I feel all fuzzy inside, oh Michael, what are you doing to me.

"I mean," I giggle, breaking into a full on grin. "Is this what that is? Am I in hysterics?"

"I think so," He answers warily, "We can just lay in bed together, we don't have to..."

Christ, I'm a twenty-something year old, who is given a choice between having sex with a banging chap, or simply laying in bed together.

"No." I shake my head, "No!" Putting my hands up, I stare at him. "No. We are going to have sex. Tonight."

"This is less romantic than I thought it would be.." He eases into a smile, leaning in slightly, teasingly. "You know, there will be plenty of times when we can fuck, not right now."

"Don't you want to?" I ask, realizing that I haven't even asked him.

"Of course."

His smile on its own is brilliant but for goodness sake, his words do something to my body. It's like I forget everything, my heart is stolen. He puts his hands behind his back, and kisses me quickly.