Through the blinds, you could see the evening sky. That and the lamp were the only things providing light in the trailer. You were playing with a strand of your long hair, curling the end with your fingers. As you looked around the trailer, you noticed the small vanity and mirror. On it sat some of Michael's makeup and other odds and ends. Then, your eyes spotted the tape. His white tape.
Michael had just started putting it on the tips of his fingers. Before each show, he'd put the tape on his pointer, ring, and pinky finger. When you asked him about it, he said it was meant to be lengthening, or make him look taller onstage. He moved around so much, so the tape would help the audience keep track of him and keep up with his movements. He chose those fingers simply because it was different and hadn't been done before.
Michael had the largest hands and the longest fingers. You gave him the nickname "E.T. Fingers" because of how long they were. Yet, they suited him. Michael always danced with his hands, whether it was pointing or wiggling his fingers or rubbing his thumb and middle finger together, he always used his hands. It was a small detail, but it was one of the many things about him that fascinated you. A small detail that you had a great appreciation for.
Whenever he held your hand, you loved how your small hands fit into his large ones.
You never told him this because you didn't want to sound like you had a weird hand fetish.
Standing up from the couch, you walked over to the vanity. You grabbed the tape and held it in your hand. As you stared down at it, you could feel his electric energy already. Michael's energy spread to anything he laid a finger on. You smiled as you thought about the brilliant performer you got to call your love.
The trailer door opened and you turned around. Michael walked in, wearing his signature opening outfit for the Bad Tour. Both of your eyes lit up when you saw each other.
"Y/N, I didn't know you were in here! I was looking for you," he said with a smile.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't know," you replied, looking up at him.
He shook his head. "That's alright. At least I found you now."
His eyes trailed down to the tape in your hand. "Playing around with my things, hm?"
You giggled, making him smile. "No, not really. I was just . . ."
Thinking about your hands, you finished in your mind.
Michael looked at you curiously. "You were just what?"
"Thinking about you," you finished, smiling awkwardly at him.
He smiled, but suspicion showed in his eyes. You hated and loved how well he knew you. You really couldn't get anything past him. So, whenever you wanted to lie, even a little white lie, he could tell. Nevertheless, you found it romantic.
"What else?" Michael asked.
"Hm?" You asked.
"What else were you gonna say?" Michael asked, smiling slightly.
Your gaze fell down to his hands and you took them in yours. You smiled as you felt them enclose around yours. His thumb ran back and forth against your knuckles. You brought them up to your lips and kissed his knuckles.
"I was thinking about you, and your details . . . like your hands."
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see his response. "My hands?" He asked.
"Mhm," you nodded, "They're large, and soft, and beautifully crafted."
You felt him move one of his hands to cup your cheek while the other began rubbing your back. "Well, thank you."
You could tell by his tone that this wasn't what he was expecting to hear. Beginning to grow embarrassed, you blushed and turned away.
"Wait a minute, where you going?" He asked, turning you back around.
"It felt weird saying that. Sorry," you blushed, avoiding his gaze.
"It's fine," he chuckled, giving you a comforting smile, "I love how . . . observant you are."
This made you burst out laughing. "That's a way to put it."
"No, really! You pay attention to things that most people don't, and I love that about you," he assured you, giving you the sweetest smile you'd ever seen, "Even if it is my hands."
You laughed again, shaking your head at him. He leaned down to kiss you and you happily accepted his affection.
"I love to . . . feel your skin underneath my hands," he mumbled into the kiss.
His words made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You felt a sudden jolt of heat in your lower abdomen.
"You're so sexy, Mike. Do you realize that?" You asked, breaking from the kiss.
He let out an embarrassed chuckle and looked away. "No, that's uh . . . that's all you, baby."
"Mm," you hummed, shaking your head, "You're the perfect balance between sexy and cute."
He looked down at the tape and looked into your eyes. "You wanna help me put that on?"
Your eyes widened slightly as he looked down at you before sticking out his pointer finger. You cleared your throat and licked your lips, not expecting such a minor thing to have such an impact on you. His brown eyes were fixed on you as you ripped your first piece of tape. Performing your actions slowly, you wrapped the thin white tape around his finger. The atmosphere was warming as you tore off your second piece of tape. Michael opened his right hand, palm facing up. He stuck his ring finger up, holding it high enough for you to successfully wrap the tape around it. The air was filled with bliss as you grabbed the last piece of tape and waited for him to lift his pinky finger. Once he did, you slowly wrapped the tape around the tip. Before you could pull your hand away, he grabbed it with his. Looking up at him, his brown eyes reflected the light.
"It's a cold night," he said softly.
Grabbing your gloves from the couch, he kept his grip on your hand. You watched as he slowly slipped the gloves onto your hands, focusing intently on getting each one of your fingers in correctly. Your eyes sparkled as you watched his hands fiddle with yours.
"There we go," he whispered, finishing with your left hand.
You smiled dreamily up at him. "Thank you."
"Of course. I can't have my baby getting sick."
A knock on the door made you both turn around.
"On in ten, sir," a voice said from outside.
"Okay," Michael replied, turning back to face you.
"You better get going, sir. Wouldn't want you to be late for your show, sir," you said playfully, deepening your voice to sound more masculine.
Michael smiled before wiggling a finger under your chin.
"Stop!" You giggled before weakly pushing him towards the door.
He giggled, grabbing your hand and giving it one more kiss before walking out. You closed the door and put your back against it. You couldn't stop smiling. Putting your gloved hands on your cheeks, you slid down to the floor, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like him in your life.
