𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊

𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚂𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

♛
1990
Neverland Ranch
Word Count:8.4k

  You and Michael were sitting in his private office, a cozy, well-appointed space nestled in a separate building just a short walk from the main house. The office was a blend of polished wood and soft, warm lighting, exuding an atmosphere of calm and focus. Michael sat behind his large, mahogany desk, deep in conversation on the phone. His voice was calm yet authoritative, hinting at the importance of the discussion. Meanwhile, you sat across from him in a comfortable leather chair, casually playing with a vintage Mickey Mouse action figure that stood proudly on his desk—a whimsical touch in the otherwise sophisticated room. Your legs were propped up on the edge of the desk, the soft leather of your shoes gently brushing against its smooth surface.

As you leaned back, your eyes drifted to the window. Outside, the sun was beginning to cast a golden glow over the lush grounds, signaling the arrival of spring in California. The flowers in the garden were in full bloom, their vibrant colors a striking contrast against the deep green of the freshly cut grass. A pair of security guards strolled by, their presence reassuring and unobtrusive. You gave them a friendly wave, and they responded in kind before continuing on their patrol.

The office door was slightly ajar, allowing the sweet scent of jasmine from the garden to waft in, mixing with the subtle aroma of the coffee that sat cooling on the corner of Michael's desk. You took a deep breath, savoring the moment. The warmth of the spring day was seeping through the large windows, making the room feel even more inviting.

Michael, sensing your gaze, looked up from his conversation and caught your eye. His lips curled into a slow, warm smile that sent a familiar flutter through your chest. Without missing a beat in his conversation, he reached across the desk, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin before settling on your ankle. The touch was gentle, yet it sent a shiver up your leg, a silent acknowledgment of your presence that felt both comforting and intimate. His thumb traced small circles on your ankle, the sensation soothing yet charged with an unspoken connection that lingered in the air between you.

Your eyes wandered from his hand to the jar of lollipops on the corner of his desk, a splash of color in the otherwise subdued office. The sight brought a playful smile to your lips, and you couldn't resist pointing toward it. Michael's gaze followed yours, and his smile deepened as he released your ankle, the warmth of his touch still tingling on your skin. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand and leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing as he asked, "Need something, sweetheart?"

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "The lollipops," you said softly, biting your lower lip. "I want one."

Michael's smile grew as he reached for the jar, his movements deliberate and slow, almost as if savoring the moment. "Anything for you," he murmured, his tone laced with warmth. He twisted off the lid, his fingers brushing against the cool glass, then glanced up at you, his eyes holding a playful glint. "Which flavor?" he asked, his voice a bit lower, more intimate.