Mike has always been reliable, to a fault. So much so, that you can't even remember the last time he took a day for himself, let alone five minutes. His days were always jam-packed with watching Abby, or going to job interviews. So when you parents ask you to house-sit for the weekend, you quickly oblige. A quiet lake house, nestled within acres of woods. You'd spent most of your summers there as a child.
"We'll only be gone for the weekend-" Your mother insists, her maternal tone paired with a series of nods. Your father bustles behind her, carrying their luggage from the house to the car. Your father often left for business meetings, but it was rare that your mother joined him. It was obvious that she too, needed a break. Mike stands next to you, quiet, but not sheepish. It's one of the qualities that your parents love about him. He's respectful. Glancing over at him, your mother continues, "And we appreciate you accompanying her, Michael." He smiles in return, warm and sincere. "Not a problem," He says with a soft shake of his head, easing your mother's nerves. "It's just desolate out here, and I wouldn't want her to be out here-" "Alone," You finish, offering a lighthearted smile that mirrored your mothers. "Alright, alright," She says, throwing her hands up with defeat. You're nearly pushing her out the door, saying your goodbyes and waving as they drive away.
You give Mike a tour of the house that seems mundane at first, but you quickly realize just how much of the house there is. It never seemed this big to you before, accustomed to your parents wealth since birth. But as you pass through the fourth..fifth..sixth room before even getting to the bedrooms, your embarrassment is evident. A flush spreads across your features, heat rising to your cheeks. The notion that has crept into your thoughts has now lingered, still festering as you lay next to Mike in the darkness. "It seems so brash now. It's almost nauseating," You comment, and you wonder if he can hear you wince in the dark. He chuckles softly, pulling you further into his side. "It's fine," He insists, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Sure, you think to yourself. You know full well that it's your anxiety fuelling this-the ridiculous notion that it was selfish to bring Mike here-obnoxious, even. Given his living situation with Abby who was currently being babysat by Jane, against his better judgment.
"I could've come out here by myself-" You attempt to protest. "Not a chance."
That's the last thing you remember before dozing off, wrapped in his arms. You stir, waking up at the other side of the bed, whining softly as you glance over at the time. Your phone shines obnoxiously in your face.
3:32 A.M
It causes you to squint, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Since you've managed to writhe yourself out of Mike's arms during your sleep, you're confident that you won't wake him as you tread downstairs for a glass of water. You grab a cup, filling it to the brim before drinking it graciously. A few minutes pass, allowing you to bask in the silence that surrounds you. The wind is harsh outside, ripping through the extensive pine trees. The moonlight barely helps your sight, providing the only source of vision that was barely there to begin with. As you glance out the window, a figure emerges from the stairwell, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. Your body relaxes not a second later, knowing you'd recognize that silhouette anywhere. "Jesus, Mike." You exhale, clutching your chest. "Sorry," He slurs, voice laced with exhaustion. "Just wondered where you went." The trees continue to rustle, the wind ripping through them unrelentingly. You hum in response to his statement, resting your weight on the kitchen island behind you-extending your arms to rest your weight on the marbled wood.
"Just needed water." You say, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness. "Hm." He responds. Meeting you halfway, he nudges his knee between your legs, allowing you to press your full frame against him, leaving no space between neither him, nor the island. His chest is nearly pressed to yours, and you glance up at him, breath hitched in your throat. "What?" You ask, suddenly feeling a surge of nerves course through your body. It feels like he's studying you. He shrugs cooly, lips pursed together for a moment. "Nothing," He states. "That's all you needed?" He asks, glancing down at you.
