Reverie - Michael Jackson Imagines

Best Of Joy✨

This Is It Era

You tossed and turned in bed, a horrid queasiness churning in your stomach and stirring you out of your slumber.

"Just ten more minutes," you think to yourself. You squeeze your eyes shut, scrunching up your nose as you felt something warm and wet trailing across your cheek.

"Michael, stop" you mumble, clutching the duvet closer to your chest. "It's too early to be so naughty,"

You giggle to yourself, amused by your husband's antics. After twenty years together, he was still so full of surprises.

Your chiding however did not succeed to make the licking stop and with the addition of a cold, wet nose, you soon realize that the tongue did not belong to your husband but rather the overly- affectionate American Cocker spaniel you owned.

"Hooter," you groan. "That's so gross,"

You sit up against the headboard, nausea rumbling in your stomach and a nasty ache greeting your joints as you weakly stroke the dog's soft mane. You can already hear chatter drifting from downstairs and glance at the bedside clock, frowning as you realize it was well beyond ten. You'd been sleeping later and later each morning for the past week it seemed, feeling nothing like yourself.

"I must be getting old," you yawn.

You get out of bed, going about your morning routine, washing the dog slobber off your face before strolling down stairs for a cup of coffee, hoping to shake your sickly feeling.

"Look, Daddy! We're almost finished!"

You grin at the sight of your husband hunched over the kitchen table, loose tendrils of ebony curls falling over his face as he guides your seven year old twin daughters in piecing together a brightly colored puzzle.

It'd been the simple things like things that you looked forward to every morning.

You didn't mind that the living room looked a mess or that the dishes needed to be placed in the dishwasher, just as long as he was here.

You grab a piece of plain toast leftover from the family breakfast you'd slept through and pour yourself a cup of coffee, spilling some in fright at the sound of the maturing, adolescent voices drifting from the stairs, causing Hooter to bark loudly.

"I wanna know where it is. Now,"

"I told you, Mikey, I gave it back! You just lost it,"

You roll your eyes at your sons bickering, taking a sip of the warm liquid as Michael's gazes up from the puzzle, his hypnotizing ebony eyes meeting yours.

"See if you can figure out where this one goes,sweetie" he coos, reaching out to smooth Eliza's sandy brown curls as he pushes himself from the table before strolling over to you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he grins wrapping his arms around your waist, his soft lips meeting yours. You set down your coffee, wrapping your arms around his neck completely losing yourself in him.

"Eww, Mommy and Daddy are kissing again!" Wendy whispers, causing you to giggle.

It had been nearly two months since Michael returned home from what had been his final farewell to touring.

It was bittersweet. Touring had been a large part of your husband's career since he was barely a teenager and was also a mainstay in your marriage.

Periods of your life together had been marked in tours- you'd been engaged during his first solo tour and were married shortly after it ended. Your second and third babies had been born in the middle of world tours but despite some of the happy memories, Michael despised the hectic schedules, changing time zones and touring had served to strain on his duties as a husband and father.