Michael's calm demeanor seems to shatter as he sits on the edge of my bed, his head falling into his hands. I can't help but go to him, more confused than ever but desperate to reassure him.
"They're looking for you," I say. I mean it as a question, but we both know that I know the answer already. Michael nods, distraught, avoiding eye contact. "Why did they come here, then?" I breathe.
"They must have been watching me," he says. Everything he says comes out distracted, jerky, worried.
"Why?" I breathe. "What do they want from you?" I want to ask what did you do? but I am trying to keep an open mind and not accuse him straightaway.
"Kate, I-" he runs his hands over his face. "The last thing I want to do is involve you in this."
"I'm already involved, Michael," I snap. "They were in my apartment."
"I'm sorry," he groans.
"That's not good enough! I need to know why."
"I can't tell you," he groans.
"Can't or won't?" I huff.
"Both."
"Michael!" I'm half whine, half groan.
"I'm... I'm afraid."
He looks up, hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me to stand in front of him. He sits on the edge of the bed and I stand before him, his hands on my waist, his eyes still not meeting mine. "I won't let them touch you," he murmurs.
I sigh, bringing my fingers to his face and twisting one hand into his hair. "It's not me I am afraid for," I say quietly. Michael's eyes finally meet mine, something like confusion clouding the already blurry-looking green. He pulls me close to him and I give in completely, sitting on his lap.
"Do you want me to go?" He whispers.
"No," I nearly panic at the thought. "No, please."
"I thought... I thought you wanted me to stay away from you." His eyes are guarded and his voice trembles. "I don't know if I can," he half smiles.
"I don't. I just... When you said I'm scared of feeling... I am. But not the way you meant it."
Michael shifts me off his lap to sit next to him, and I am already internally screaming for contact with him again. "What do you mean?" He asks.
"I am afraid of feeling... all the negative things." He is quiet, so I continue. "I'm afraid of the feeling that I get when you leave." It is my deepest confession and his eyes find mine again, and he too is afraid. In my heart of hearts, I can see that Michael has never been loved this way.
"I won't leave," he breathes, sliding closer to me.
"You already do," I laugh lightly, but only to keep the tears out of my voice. "You always just go and you never say why."
"But I come back," he says.
"So? That could just mean that you're bored."
Michael chuckles and grabs my waist again, pulling me to his chest. It's my new favorite place to be, with his arms around me. "I could never be bored with you, Katie," he says. We are quiet for a minute, and I am just reveling in the way the skin of his neck warms my cheek. "If you let me stay, I won't leave," he whispers after a while. He is talking about tonight, but the words carry more weight than either of us were prepared for.
I pull back, looking him in the eyes once more. "Stay," I tell him. His arms tighten around my waist again and I lean in, kissing his cheek once before covering his mouth with mine. There is a desperate feverishness in the way his lips move against mine, a kind of exhausted passion that is the most powerful emotion I've ever felt.
Michael pulls me down and I relax into him, pulling my arms around his neck. If I could only feel one thing for the rest of my life, it would be the warmth of his body against mine.
