Forever and a Half || Michael Jackson

Chapter Ten - You Like Her?

Chapter ten – You Like Her?

~~

The next morning, I'm awoken with Michael's voice right in my ear.

"Citria," he coos with a laugh, "It's morning ... "

This is the first time he's ever woken me up; normally it's me waking him up. He seems really cheerful, and I don't know why. Nonetheless, I open my eyes groggily, my first sight being Michael.

"Hey, Michael," I greet, stretching all my limbs and body, "How are you this morning?"

"I'm good, thank you. Yourself?"

"Yes ... I'm good too, thanks. I'll just go get ready, then I'll start making breakfast for us—"

"No, no," he smirks, taking a hold of my hand – which sends shivers down my spine – and pulling me off the sofa. I look at him curiously due to his previous words, but then he explains, "I'm making breakfast today."

My eyebrows involuntarily raise in surprise, "Are you sure?" Then I think of something, "A couple days ago, you said that you could only cook lasagna!"

This causes him to give an embarrassed closed-mouth smile, "Yeah, but I think I can handle a simple round of toast and some cereal." He finally lets go of my hand, allowing me to stand up properly and brush myself down, "Why? Don't you think I could make that?" he teases.

"Of course you could, I just don't want you to do the things I'm meant to do for you," I reply.

"Ah, don't worry. All you've done for me these past three days is help. I've done nothing at all for you."

"You have," I argue softly, "You've given me a friend."

I slip past him to go get ready, leaving him with that thought.

*  *  *

After getting ready, I head down the stairs, greeted by the smell of toast. Arriving into the kitchen, my first sight is Michael setting the plates on the table, along with the jugs of water and orange juice that we have every morning.

He soon spots me, "Oh, you're here!" he smiles, rushing back to the kitchen side and grabbing the plate of toast, before placing it on the table with everything else, "Help yourself. I hope I did a good enough job for ya."

Before I can take a hold of my chair, Michael takes a hold of it himself, and pulls it out for me. I thank him politely, then sit myself down on the chair, and tuck it in more so I'm closer to the table. I take a slice of toast, biting into it.

It's good, real good. Probably better made than my own, to be honest. I didn't realise toast could be made well or badly. It's just ... toast.

"You like?" he asks hopefully, taking a slice for himself and biting into it.

"I love it ... thank you. But what's made you decide to do this?"

He looks down at his plate, "I just wanted to show my appreciation for you, that's all. I wanted to show that I'm thankful for your support, y'know?"

"Oh," I give a smile, but I'm a little surprised, "Well, thank you Michael. That's ... very kind of you. Remember we're going to see my father today."

He takes his bottom lip into his mouth, and nods shyly, "I know." He then takes another bite of toast to avoid speaking any more, making the room fall completely silent.

I know he's nervous about the visit to my father's house, but it's for the best that he comes with me. He knows that, as well – he can't quite be trusted alone yet, I don't think.