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Andy

Both Mikey and I are stuck in our own worlds as we walk around aimlessly, but then he speaks up.

"I want to see where you live, Andy."

He looks to me, an unreadable expression on his face.

Suddenly, I'm not sure of him again. Why does he want to see my room? Does he want to see how poor I am before he makes the decision that he has to help? Is there a law or something? Does he think I'm lying about my home life? That really, I live in a mansion and that everything's perfect? That I always have enough to eat, and I'm just playing with him?

Despite all of this, I respond with a small, "okay."

And suddenly Im leading the way back to my room. At least some conversation picks up, or I'd probably be drowning in the thoughts and running away. But talking to him makes me want to be even closer.

Soon enough, we're at my place. We walk into the house, immediately turning left to go to my room. It's completely soundproofed, at least, and I have a bathroom, so I figure it's a half decent place, despite the grey walls, the grey floor, and the grey mood, with no lighting apart that from the small window.

I show him around, which is composed mostly of pointing out the tiny bathroom.

"This is..." Mikey seems to be at a loss for words. "Andy, this is barely even a living space."

He reaches out his arms, nearly touching both walls without even moving. I hang my head, kind of ashamed.

Sorry, Mum.

"Where's your food?" Mikey asks.

Finally, something that might actually be adequate. "It's in the fridge," I tell him with a small smile, hoping that hell finally be satisfied with something.

He raises his eyebrows and I point to the fridge.

Mikey opens the door and looks in, and I know immediately that he's not impressed.

He takes a deep breath.

"That's not food Andy, that's rations!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but not all of us can afford food like some people can!"

The defensive words come out before I can stop them. I just hate when people question my independence. It's keeping me alive, so it's all I need.

"I didn't mean to say that Andy, I didn't mean to offend you. I had no right to do that." Mikey hangs his head, closing the refrigerator door and biting his lip.

"No," I say, hating how he berates himself. "No, I shouldn't have gotten angry."

There's a strange silence then, both of us just standing in the tiny room I live in; I pay too much, and at the same I don't earn enough. 

And suddenly, Mikey's in front of me, an apologetic smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm not used to something like this," he tells me.

I smile weakly. As much as it hurts, it's true. This is just barely enough space for living. Even though I'm almost never here, nearly always out in the streets, trying to earn the favour of guilty strangers.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, his voice sounding regretful. I shake my head.

Even if I did want to send him away, I can't find it in myself to do so. I shake my head, and he smiles a tiny bit.

"Can I hug you?" Mikey asks me softly, and I nod.

He carefully wraps his arms around my waist, and I slowly tuck my head into his shoulder. He squeezes me gently, and we stand there for a long time. My heart beats faster as we stand there, swaying slightly. I wonder if he can feel it, through my jacket that I still hadn't taken off, considering I was nervous for Mikey's reaction to my room.

The moment I allow myself to give fully into the hug, it's all I can think about. Mikey, Mikey's lovely scent, Mikey's strong body, and Mikey's warmth, and Mikey's kind personality.

He carefully comes out of the embrace, still holding my waist, a soft smile on his face. Not knowing what else to do, I return it and he takes my hand, leading me over to the bed and sits us down

"Has anybody else ever been here?" Mikey asks.

I shake my head, and he squeezes my hand.

"Then I'm honoured to be the first," he smiles properly and I can't help but to do the same. It's Mikey, after all.

We sit in silence for a long time. I know that Im just thinking about Mikey again, not caring about anything else more than I do about him. I can only hope that he's thinking the same about me.

Mikey starts to move a little and I don't realize how tired I am until he does. My entire weight lies on him and the bed, I'm leaning so heavily on him. He stands and pulls back the covers on the bed, then picks me up seemingly effortlessly. He places me on the bare mattress.

And then, eyes closed, I'm tucked into the bed, the covers coming up over me. I sigh contentedly as something presses gently on my forehead, then pulls away.

The next thing I know, I'm being pulled away into sleep.

***

I slowly open my eyes and blink a few times. I jump and gasp almost immediately: Mikey's lying across my bed, completely asleep. Snores come from his parted lips, and he's completely sprawled out. I laugh softly, not wanting to wake him.

I kind of need to get to work, though.

But I should stay with him. There's no chance in hell that I'm waking him up.

But honestly, what do I want to do?

So instead, I just get out of bed, bringing the covers down so that they can cover him. He doesn't move. I smile fondly at him, then go over to the fridge. Maybe I can take a day off. I haven't in years, unless it's been for illness, which is something that obviously, I can't really do much about.

But seeing Mikey passed out in my bed like this... it stirs something deep within me. Almost like a protective instinct, although I know that Mikey doesn't need protecting.

Maybe we all do though, in some way.

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So I'm (misstaken17) currently supposed to be at a race for skiing, but I guess it's too snowy out for us to have gone :/ but we love you and hope you're all doing well, stay safe!

- MissTaken17 and WolfGirl2215