No Place For Love - Michael Scofield Fanfiction

Tier Time

After our introductions, he sat himself back on the bottom bed and laid down, pulling out a piece of paper and folding it up. Confused as to what he was doing, I sighed and looked out to the rest of Gen Pop. They had quietened down, yet I could still see prying eyes staring me down. It's alright now but when it comes to the time when I'm not locked safely behind bars, I have no idea what they'd do to me. Trying to ignore the nervousness in my stomach, I lifted myself up to the top bunk and laid down curling up in the covers, making myself feel as safe as I could in a place like this. And slowly falling asleep, even though it wasn't night time.

---

"Hey." A voice called as they shook me awake. "Y/N." I slowly opened my eyes to see Michael, face to face with me, hand on my shoulder from waking me up. I threw myself upright, back against the wall as tightly as possible. He withdrew his hands and walked to the other side of the cell, hands up.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to let you know it's tier time. I don't want no one messing with you while you're sleeping." I look over to the door of the cell to see that it's open. I sigh. And so it beings. I jump off the bed and walk over to the sink, splashing my face then drying it off. I turn around as someone walks into the cell, someone following shortly behind holding onto his turned-out pocket.

"Hey there, Sugar. Name's T-Bag. You're even more attractive than Pretty over here." He states, gestures to Michael, who was still sitting on his bunk, yet looked more on edge than before, as though ready to move should anything happen. The man behind 'T-Bag' looked angrily at me as though jealous. "Scofield rejected my offer of help when he first came here and he ended up two toes down. Don't make the same mistake. All you gotta do is take this pocket and I'll get rid of all your problems." I scoff.

"And what's the catch?"

"All you gotta do is a few favours for me."

"Yeah, I'd rather take my chances on my own, thanks." The man behind him sighed in relief, while T-Bag suddenly got a violent glint in his eyes.

"You're going to regret that decision, Sugar, mark my words." I roll my eyes.

"I highly doubt that." He sneered before whipping around and strutting out the cell, the man following him quickly. I rolled my eyes again before facing the mirror and sorting out my bed hair. Michael got up and stood at the door, as though on guard. I combed through my hair and as I was throwing it up into a messy bun, I noticed Michael watching me through the reflection. We locked eye contact and, with a sudden burst of confidence, I winked. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he cleared his throat, looking outside the cell in an attempt to look busy, I chuckled quietly to myself before finishing the bun.

A bald, South-American looking man suddenly walked into the cell, looking for Michael. "Hey, Papi." He spoke. "Have you made any progress with the di-" He halted his speech as Michael looked over at me, finally noticing me. "Sorry. I didn't notice you there. Name's Sucre." He smiled, nodding his head. I lightly smiled and nodded back to him. I awkwardly stood there, knowing they wanted to talk privately yet not wanting to leave the cell to face the rest of the inmates. I noticed a pad and pencil so I sat at the desk and tried to ignore them as I started to doodle.

I completely zoned out the rest of what was happening around me as I focused on the drawing and the pencil strokes on the paper. It wasn't until the cell door slammed shut that I was pulled out of my trance-like state, jumping slightly and looking over at Michael standing behind me. Michael looked over my shoulder at the drawing (image above).

"That's really good. You're talented, Y/N." A blush formed on my face as I turned back to the drawing.

"It's not my best work but considering I only had one shade of pencil and it's on this crappy paper, it's decent I guess." Michael chuckled, placing his hands on my shoulders and bending down slightly, breath fanning my ear and back of my neck. Goosebumps spread across my body like wildfire making my hair stand on ends.

"Don't be modest. With those skills, you shouldn't be." He whispered in my ear. Then he backed away from me and sat back down on his bed. 

I licked my lips, clearing my suddenly dry throat and closed the notepad. I climbed up onto my bed, as I saw something laying on my pillow. Examining it, I noticed it was an origami crane. It must have been why Michael was folding that paper earlier. I smiled slightly and placed it under my pillow, thinking. Was Michael flirting with me? Or was I just overthinking?