Forever and a Half || Michael Jackson

Chapter Fifty-five - Taking Control

Chapter fifty-five – Taking Control

**Trigger warning**
If anybody is sensitive to self-harm, I strongly advise that you only read the first half of this chapter, or skip reading this chapter altogether. Thank you. ❤️

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"Have you had a nice day today, Michael?" I ask him, hoping he will understand that I actually mean, 'as nice a day as it can possibly be'.

He sits up in bed beside me, his eyes drawn down to his stomach, which is covered by the blanket. Not necessarily to indicate there's an issue, but rather because he's simply staring into space.

"Yeah. It was nicer than I hoped it would be, considering everything." He shrugs subtly, eventually moving his eyes upwards, and to his left where I am. To reassure him, I give a small smile, which he reluctantly returns.

"I'm glad you did. And I'm glad you slept well last night too, and I'm glad you ate today." My brows knit together sadly. "I have noticed, sweetheart."

He doesn't say anything; he just shifts his gaze back to its original spot. He doesn't appear to be ashamed by what has happened, but he isn't happy. I guess he just feels trapped; as if there's nothing he feels he can really do about it.

"I know it's difficult, Michael. I've been there before. Not wanting to eat. The thought of it making you feel nauseous. Thoughts keeping you up at night. Sleep deprivation. The nightmares. I understand it, and I'm here to help you."

"You don't know what I'm going through," he mutters; not angrily, but more in a sense of wanting to prove his point without giving me too much detail. "And you don't need to worry about it. I'm capable of dealing with things myself. Nothing I can't handle, you know?"

"Sure," I acknowledge, not really believing it, but agreeing to avoid confrontation. "But I'm your partner. We're in this together. And if you need to talk to me about anything, you know I'm the girl to come to." I pause for a moment, half expecting at least acknowledgement from him. When I receive nothing, I give him a cautious glance. "You ... do know that, right?"

He hesitates for a moment or two, but then nods at last. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I understand." He smiles at me, which reassures me that he's at least somewhat comfortable with actually opening up to me.

"Good. So, whilst we're on the subject ... " I start, hoping it'll be the beginning of him telling me how he actually feels, "What's been going through your mind today?"

"Nothing really," he replies, "The usual stuff. Christmas. Presents. You, Clover. You know ... all the Christmassy stuff." He furrows his brows slightly as if contemplating how to end his response. " ... Christmas."

"Uh ... right." A small chuckle can't help but pass my lips as I smirk a little at him. "Anything else? You know ... feelings?"

"Feelings?" He lays himself down next to me, whilst I'm still sat up. "I'm too tired to think about that deep stuff right now, Cit. Let's talk some other time." He wraps his arm around my still-upright body, as if inviting me to lay next to him.

"Um ... okay." Giving in, I shuffle my body downwards so I'm laid next to him. His arm is now coiled around my waist. "Goodnight, Michael."

"Goodnight."

As he concludes the day's conversation, I turn my body around to face away from him, so it makes it easier for him to spoon hug me, from behind. Within a matter of minutes, I hear his breathing change, indicating he's fallen asleep. At least he genuinely was tired. And at least he's actually getting some sleep. And before me, for once. I'll definitely take that as a victory.