Loving You // Michael Jackson Fanfiction

6 - Room 603

"Here you go," Camila said, handing over a glass of water to Michael. "Sorry I don't have any orange juice."

"It's alright, thanks." He accepted it and set it down on the coffee table in front of him.

Earlier she called the hotel's concierge to ask if they could borrow any movies, and thankfully they had one of Michael's favorite movies, E.T, so they were watching that. The living room of Camila's suite was a tad bit smaller than Michael's, but it was much cleaner and brighter; the lights were off but the curtains were open halfway. The room also smelled like her perfume, which made Michael melt.

Camila sat down on the couch beside him. "You sure you don't want some wine?" she asked, sipping on her red wine.

Michael shook his head politely. "No thanks, I'm not much into drinking."

"Says the person who drank an alcoholic fruit punch last night..."

"In all honesty, I didn't know it had vodka in it! I swear!" he laughed. "It was just very refreshing, and there were no signs it was alcoholic."

"Sure..." Camila said, jokingly unconvinced.

* * *

At one moment in the middle of the movie, Camila started to slowly fall asleep. Her body slumped to Michael's side, so he quickly grabbed a throw pillow and placed it on his lap, gently resting her head on it. Instead of waking up, she remained unbothered and continued to sleep.

Michael stayed wide awake and watched the rest of the movie on his own. As Camila kept on sleeping peacefully, he took it as a chance to admire her beauty. She has such amazing features; high prominent cheekbones, sculpted and full eyebrows, a defined jawline, long eyelashes, it was endless. He also couldn't help but to stroke her beautiful shiny hair, trying his best not to wake her up.

During the credits scene, he minimized the volume of the television and began to hum lowly to a random tune.

"Michael?" Camila whispered in a hoarse voice, disrupting his humming. "Is the movie over? What time is it?"

He looked down and smiled to see her eyes waking up. "It just ended a few minutes ago, and it's..." He looked around for a wall clock, "half past five."

She got up slowly and squinted her eyes. "I'm so sorry for sleeping on your lap."

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

Camila smiled shyly and laid back onto the couch, scratching her head. "Damn, I missed like what, half the movie?" she asked, still groggy from her nap.

"Yeah... More than that perhaps."

"Let me excuse myself and go wash my face, I'm feeling unenergized as hell. I'll be back in a minute." She got up and walked to the bedroom door and shut it.

Back in the living room, Michael heard her opening the en suite bathroom door and the water from the sink flowing. He took out the VHS tape from the player and put it back in its case. Standing back up, he took a look around Camila's suite.

He walked towards the curtains and took a peak outside. No fans, no cameras, no paparazzi, just a beautiful view of the hotel's swimming pool and garden. He watched as a man of his 40s dive into the pool with his Speedo trunks, continuing to swim in a freestyle. Then there was a little girl with her mother, looking scared as she tried to float with her rubber rings in the deeper end of the pool.

He wished he could just go down and lounge with the other hotel guests, but it was impossible. It was just something for him to accept that he couldn't be a normal person trying to enjoy the hotel's facilities, and that upset him.