"This is it." I said impassively, as we reached room 283. I pulled my hotel key out of my pocket and opened the door.
I was surprised when Michael came inside behind me, when I heard him close the door behind me. "Diana." I turned at the sound of my name on his lips. "We need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about," I said, sniffing as I unzipped my damp hoodie. "Go with Janet, she doesn't even know where my house is."
"You're right," said Michael. "No talking."
I scrunched my eyebrows, confused of the way he said 'no talking,' he said it in a way that kind of sounded seductive.
"And I am so tired of talking, of running my mouth, of pretending." I heard Michael say, his voice getting closer to me, and I turned to him, pushing my hoodie on the desk.
Michael slowly approached me, walking in such a lazy, special grace I'd never seen before. I had reached my limit when my back hit the cold wall.
"So, then what aren't you tired of?" I whispered, though could barely breathe, barely decipher or comprehend what was going on right now.
"You."
I didn't know what my response would have been, or what I would have done. I mean, I didn't even care by the time his lips reached mine.

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tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)
FanfictionDiana Cartwright helped Michael Jackson escape his world of fame, unaware that he is being harassed by a man in a mask. Sticking with him she is thrust in a world of pain, lies and romance.