psych ➳ muke

16

I don't know how long we sit on Michael's bed in perfect silence. For awhile, our foreheads are gently resting on one another, our gaze locked on one another's eyes. There is a bubbly feeling in my stomach and I haven't felt it in so long that it takes me some time to realize exactly what it is - happiness.

After my dad died - after my life was destroyed, piece by piece - the feeling of happiness quickly subsided. I had assumed that it was simply grief consuming me, that in time things would go back to the way they were. That I would be happy again. I was surely wrong because, as time went on, things only became worse. But now, after all I have endured, I have found happiness in the form of a schizophrenic, platinum haired, green eyed boy. And I would not change this moment, this boy, for anything. I can only describe this feeling as Cloud 9, or even being high. It was as if the world around us had stopped. As if we were the only two left on this earth. In that moment, no one else mattered.

But our time alone is cut short by a pounding knock on the door, causing us to spring apart in fear of being caught so close. I run a hand quickly through my hair and pull open the door - faking a tired yawn and blinking away pretend sleep. On the other side stands Lacy, a smile formed on her lips.

"Sorry, fell asleep," I lie, rubbing at my eyes for dramatic effect.

She nods, "Is Michael awake? We have a surprise for you all down in the group room."

I glance over my shoulder at the boy, whom is pressed against the wall out of view.

"No, he's not, but I'll wake him and we'll be down?" It comes out as more of a question rather than a statement.

Lacy nods once more before turning swiftly on her heel and rounding the corner. I close the door, letting out a heavy breath of relief. In the future, we would have to be more cautious.

"Well, you heard her, love," I say, "Surprise in the group room, we've gotta go."

Michael rises from his bed, padding over to stand before me, "Kiss me."

I sputter at his confidence, earning a giggle from the elder boy, "Okay."

I lean in first, closing my eyes, just feeling. Our lips meet, meshing together so perfectly. The kiss is not rushed nor needy, it's slow and passionate. Michael is first to pull away, a toothy grin playing on his features.

"Alright, sweets," he says, "Shall we?"

I laugh - a short, breathy sound - and follow in tow behind the elder boy. In the group room, all of the patients are resting in plush bean bag chairs on the floor.

"Boys!" Lacy calls out excitedly, "We are showing a movie, isn't that wonderful?"

I put on my best fake smile, nodding in approval, before making my way to an empty bean bag chair. It's blue, like my eyes, and very comfortable as I plop down. Michael sits beside me and the lights are dimmed as the opening credits of Peter Pan play. I knew it would be a children's film, they have to be cautious of what they show us, but Peter Pan is my favorite Disney film so I do not protest. My eyes are trained to the screen as they scenes play out, laughing at all of the silly parts and smiling at the budding romance between Peter and Wendy. As they hold hands and soar off to Neverland, Michael intertwines our fingers, shielding them in-between our matching bean bags. I wish we could be a Disney movie - have a perfect romance. A perfect life, even. We could escape the troubles of this twisted world, run away to distant lands and never look back. Have not a single care in the world besides our ever lasting love for one another. But no matter how much I wish it were, life is not a fairytale. There isn't always perfect romances or happy endings.

Michael and I hold hands throughout the entirety of the film, squeezing tight every so often and exchanging quick glances and heartfelt smiles. My stomach has been doing flips for hours now - Michael being the sole cause of them all. But I don't mind, because I am so full of utter happiness that I cannot think of the uneasy feeling. I can only focus on the beautiful boy beside me.