Book I Of the 'Not Vanilla' Imagine Series.
𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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♥︎ 2007 Los Angeles Word Count: 5.5k
The soft evening breeze curled through the cracked windows of the SUV, carrying with it the sweet scent of summer grass and distant pine. The warmth of the day still lingered in the air as you glanced at your children, fast asleep in the back seat, their faces softened by dreams. After a day brimming with joy—breakfast at their favorite diner, lunch on a sun-dappled park bench, and dinner at the little Italian place they loved—you'd gone on a spree of shopping, letting them pick out books, toys, and games, their laughter still echoing faintly in your ears. They had worn themselves out, and now, the rhythmic rise and fall of their breathing filled the car, a soothing reminder of the peace that had wrapped around the day.
But even amidst this tranquility, the absence of Michael gnawed at you, sharp and unyielding. His presence was the anchor that held everything together. Without him, it felt as if a crucial part of your life was missing. You missed him deeply—the touch of his hand, the sound of his laughter, the way he could soothe every worry with just one look. And while your children asked after him almost every night, longing for their father, it was your heart that ached the most. The miles between you felt unbearable, the phone calls never quite enough to fill the emptiness.
The SUV slowed as you neared home, the familiar curve of the driveway coming into view under the soft glow of the porch lights. The driver brought the car to a gentle stop, cutting the engine. For a moment, you just sat there, soaking in the quiet night, watching as the shadows of the trees danced against the house. Then, with a soft sigh, you turned in your seat, carefully brushing a hand against your son's arm.
"Hey, baby, we're home," you whispered, your voice soft enough not to startle him but just loud enough to break the spell of sleep. His long lashes fluttered open, revealing those big brown eyes—eyes that mirrored Michael's perfectly. He blinked groggily, stretching in the seat before quietly slipping out of the car, his feet barely making a sound as they hit the ground.
Turning, you gently nudged your daughter awake. She stirred slowly, her curls framing her face like a halo, her eyes sleepy but curious as they met yours. "Mommy... is Daddy home?" she asked in a tiny, hopeful voice that tugged at your heartstrings.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a small smile. "I don't know, baby," you said softly, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. "I'll ask him when he calls tonight, okay? But right now, let's get you and your brother inside and ready for bed."
She nodded sleepily, leaning into you for a moment before she climbed out of the car. She slipped her small hand into yours, her fingers cool from the night air. "I love you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I love you more, sweetie," you replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. The scent of her hair—sweet and familiar—flooded your senses, and for a moment, it took you back to when she was just a baby in your arms.
