Forever Michael

He looks at me with sadness swimming in his eyes, his mouth set into a straight line. It fills me with shame, with humiliation, but... after all, what was I supposed to do? If I didn't do what Axl told me, things would've been much worse.

"I can't even look at you," Michael sighs. Not with venom in his voice, not with disgust, but much worse. With disappointment, sadness. Two of the worst emotions to see in someone so special to me. "Please," I beg him again, falling to my knees in front of him. He looks down at me from his spot on the bed, and for the first time since I've known him, his expressions are unreadable.

He looks away quickly, swallowing. "I need you." I whisper, defeated, and my head sags to the ground. Hope springs into my heart when I feel his hand smoothing back my hair for me. He stands, stretching his long legs, and rolling his shoulders. "I fell apart." He says, considering every word carefully. "And I'm trying to pick up the pieces."
He walks to the door, bitterness apparent in his demeanor. "You turned your back on me, Z." With that, he leaves the room.
I settle down into bitter tears, sniffling and sobbing. I never meant to hurt him...
But the world is cruel, isn't it?
Michael hates me, and I've sucked all of the happiness out of him.

Now, I have no choice but to breathe him back to life. I stand, and slip my dress as daintily as possible.
Wearing nothing but my own skin, I follow his path, out into the living room. The cracking fire warms my bare skin, as I run one hand down my leg. "Michael?" He turns from the mantel, his eyes wide as golf balls.
"I never did this for Axl. Or Slash." The long silence after does nothing to quell my confidence.
"Come here," He says quietly, earning a devilish smile from me as I walk across the fuzzy carpet to meet him.