|Humor Me| ::A Michael McIntyre Story::

::Chapter 1.12:: {Words Between Friends}

Michael McIntyre's POV:

I let out a deep soothing breath as I packed the last of my belongings into my gree suit case, taking a glance outside.

The rain had begun sporadically at around seven thirty this morning. I watched as two drops had started racing to the window sill.

Quite coincidentally the weather had been coinciding itself with my emotions. I'd been happy all week, making for nice beautiful sunny days.

The time I feel dissapointed and sad the clouds unexpectedly rolled in and carried a storm with them. 

Why was I upset one might ask? The answer is plain and simple. It hadn't mattered I was only a few hours away, today I would be saying my farewell to Juliet.

Would I ever see her again? Let alone speak with her? Was this goodbye forever? So many questions had run themselves through my mind.

The only thing that interrupted them was a dainty knock upon my bedroom door, awaiting a person behind it.

"Come in." I answered the sound, allowing me to see the very person I had been pondering about all morning.

"Are you almost ready?" she sat down on my untidy bed. I had meant to make it, but she would most likely wash the blankets anyways.

"Yeah, sorry about the mess." I had apologized she had wiped it off her shoulder, surprising me with her following statement.

"I would make the bed if I was you." she shrugged, giving me a playful smile. Why on earth would I do that?

"Why?" I had spoken my internal question out loud. She sat there, thinking it over for a few seconds.

"It's your room now. You'll be back so I don't see the point in cleaning it." she laughed as if it were obvious. I would be back?

Was this some sort of hopeful sign that she was interested in me? Was she hinting at something I wasn't catching onto?

"I'll be back?" I had questioned without realizing it. She nodded with a smile, proceeding to neatly fold the comforter back up to the pillows.

"Of course. You're going to visit me again. This time it doesn't matter if Tom is here or not." she finished her sentence.Without Thomas... Tom wouldn't be coming with me... I'm not so sure he would be 'in love' with that general idea.

"I can't picture this room occupied by anybody else anymore. I've gotten used to seeing you in here." she trailed off quietly.

That had sounded slightly more intimate than anybody would have originally imagined. She hasn't 'seen' me like that... yet.

"I just... like the way it feels when you're here... the room looks different... it smells like you..." she took a deep breath in.

"Smells like me?" what an odd thing to say, let alone to like. She likes the way it 'smells' like me?

"You have a very distinct smell... and I really like it. I can't name it, but it reminds me of you." she bit her lip.

"Maybe you should just... move here." she joked, not even knowing the truth behind it. I would if I could.

If it weren't for my career and my children I would be calling this place 'home' in a heartbeat. Yet it was something I couldn't do.

"Perhaps YOU should move in with ME." I countered with a raised eyebrow. She rolled her eyes at the response.

"Well I might come visit you in England sometime. Can I see your phone for a second?" she questioned.

For some strange reason, even though I had wondered why I didn't even bother asking. I reluctantly pulled it out of my trouser pocket and handed it right over.