10 Years On ~ OSL Sequel.

Lexi's P.O.V.

Sunlight flooded through the open curtains. Well the last thing on my mind last night was to shut them. I opened my eyes slowly and took in the room I was in. Michael's bedroom. His wall were painted white with matching desk and a king sized bed. Even the quilt was white. I turn my head to see Michael's still sleeping face on my left. He looked so peaceful while he slept, nowadays he always held a sort of guarded expression. Sometimes he let that down, just for me. 

I traced the tattoos on the arm that was wrapped around me. He'd gotten quite a few, but I guess that's what happens when you live in LA. As I traced the intricate patterens of his full sleeve, I wondered on what made him get these. 

He was resting his head on the inside of his other arm. That didn't stop me from seeing that one tattoo though. 'To The Moon.' It was written in a curling font. Slowly I reached up and traced the three words. The last words Michael ever heard me say. I smiled at the thought of the fact that he felt the need to get that tattooed on his skin. 

The words 'To The Moon' replayed in my head as I traced the ink over and over again. 

"I love you so so so so so much." I cry. 

"I love you more." He tells me. 

"To the moon." Leaving out the'and back' part, because when you've been so far with the person you love, who wants to go back?

"To the moon." He repeats. 

When I look up at Michael I'm surprised to see he's watching my finger slowly trace the words. A soft smile plays on his lips. 

I stop. "Morning." I whisper. 

"Morning beautiful." He kisses the top of my head. 

"How are you?" I ask him. 

"Never been better, Do you fancy breakfast?" He strokes my hair softly. 

"Sure." I climb out of the bed and start to put on the clothes I was wearing last night.  

"Don't bother." Michael stops me. 

"Well, I need to wear something or -" Before I can finish a pair of jogging bottoms and a plain black t-shirt are thrown at my face. 

"Put those on." He tells me. 

"Thanks." I say as I pull the trousers on. 

He dresses himself in a similar pair of bottoms and a plain white t-shirt.

Together, we make our way down the stairs. 

In the kitchen Michael starts to prepare us breakfast. 

"Plans for today?" I ask him.

"We'll go to your house and pick up your things." He shrugs as he cracks eggs into a pan. 

"Okay."

We resume back to silence. 

In that silence I watch him make us both breakfast. He cracks open eggs and stirs them until he's satisfied. A plate of scrambled eggs and toast is placed in front of shortly after. 

"So when did you learn to cook?" I ask thinking back to the days when Liz would have to cook for all of us. 

"I had to fend for myself in LA." He shrugs. 

"This is really good!" I compliment as I stuff more into my mouth. 

He laughs. "Listen, I've been thinking about doing some decorating. Why do you think? I mean the bedroom could definately do with more colour."