The first time you’d felt it, the weight of his words had been like a sharp blade to the chest. You’d tried to keep the smile in place, but the pain—the sting of rejection—seeped through despite your best efforts. You’d never wanted to be a burden, never wanted to need him so desperately, but in that moment, his words made you question everything.
“Stop being so clingy,” Michael had said, half-exasperated, half-amused. His tone, though lighthearted, cut through you like a knife. It was supposed to be a casual comment, a passing remark, but it wasn’t just the words that hurt—it was the way he said them, like you were a child asking for too much attention. You weren’t asking for much. You only wanted to feel him close, to feel the comfort of his touch when everything else around you felt uncertain.
His words replayed over and over in your mind, the meaning growing more and more distorted the longer you let them linger. Clingy. Too much. You couldn’t shake it, couldn’t make sense of it.
You’d never thought of yourself as needy—at least, not in the way he probably saw it. But maybe you were. Maybe you were too much. Maybe you didn’t have the right to ask for affection, especially from someone as busy as Michael. He was always so in demand, always so far removed from the world you lived in. Maybe it was unfair of you to cling to him the way you had.
The next day, you found yourself taking a step back. It wasn’t even conscious at first. You just... didn’t reach for him like you used to. You didn’t ask him to hold you after a long day, didn’t linger when he wrapped his arms around you, didn’t look up at him with that same hopeful vulnerability that used to make your heart flutter.
It wasn’t a conscious decision to withdraw; it just happened.
But with each passing hour, you felt the walls rising higher. You didn’t want to feel rejected again. You didn’t want to hear that you were asking too much of him. So, instead, you decided it was better to simply hide it—to pretend everything was fine. To pretend that you were the same person who could joke around, laugh freely, and fill a room with joy. The person you were before, when you didn’t feel so alone inside.
The first time you caught yourself laughing, really laughing, you were surprised at how much it sounded like the old you. It was almost convincing. But as the days wore on, that old version of you felt more and more like a mask—one you’d put on so tightly that it started to hurt. But it was better than the alternative. Better than letting him see you unravel.
You could tell yourself that the mask was working, that no one noticed the change. That no one would ever have to know how much you were suffering. You were okay. Everything was fine.
Except, it wasn’t.
Michael noticed the change. At first, it was subtle—small things he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The way you’d sit just a little farther away during dinner, the way you’d laugh a little too loud when he cracked a joke, the way your eyes never quite met his anymore. The physical distance between you was growing, but the emotional distance was even more noticeable. He couldn’t quite place why you’d gone from being this person who needed him so intensely to someone who felt... so distant.
He knew you. He’d known you long enough to feel the shift, even when you tried to cover it up. He was used to seeing your eyes light up when he walked into a room, the way you would reach for him instinctively. But now? It was as if you were floating just outside his reach, always near, but never there. And the more he noticed it, the more confused he became.
"Hey," he said one evening, after a particularly tense rehearsal. You’d been unusually quiet the entire night, your usual cheerfulness replaced with an almost fragile air. "Is everything okay?" His voice was tentative, like he was testing the waters. He didn’t want to press you if you didn’t want to talk.
You smiled at him, but it wasn’t the smile that used to light up your face. It was thin, fragile, like you were trying to hold it all together. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied quickly, as if you had rehearsed it a thousand times. You leaned back against the couch, forcing a casual shrug, but the tension in your shoulders gave you away.
Michael narrowed his eyes, not convinced. “Are you sure? You’ve been kind of off lately. Not like yourself.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly masked it with another smile. “I’m fine, Michael. Just tired, that’s all.”
His brow furrowed as he watched you. You had always been open with him, always willing to share what was on your mind. But now? It was like you were shutting him out. And that hurt more than he wanted to admit. He wanted to push for answers, but he didn’t know how to do that without making things worse.
Instead, he tried to reach for your hand, offering some physical connection, something that used to come so naturally between the two of you. But when his fingers brushed against yours, you flinched, pulling your hand away before he could even grasp it.
Michael recoiled slightly, the rejection leaving a cold knot in his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Later that evening, Michael found himself sitting in his hotel room, the weight of the silence between you pressing down on him. He picked up the phone, dialing Elizabeth Taylor’s number. He didn’t know what else to do. He felt like he was losing you, but he couldn’t understand why.
"Michael, darling," Elizabeth said when she answered, her voice full of concern. “What’s troubling you?”
He sighed heavily, leaning back against the couch, the frustration and confusion in his voice palpable. “It’s her, Liz. I don’t know what’s going on. She’s... pulling away from me. And I don’t know why. I’ve tried to ask, but she won’t talk to me. She just smiles and acts like everything’s fine, but I can feel that something’s wrong.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment before responding. “Michael, darling, listen carefully. Tell me everything that’s been happening.”
Michael hesitated. He had told Liz about a lot of things over the years, but this felt different. His chest tightened, the confusion still too raw for him to fully understand. “I don’t know. I just… I’ve tried to give her some space, you know? She’s been so needy, and I didn’t know how to handle it. So I told her she was being clingy. And ever since then, she’s been shutting me out. She doesn’t let me touch her anymore. Doesn’t reach for me like she used to. And when I try to get close, she pulls away. I don’t know what’s happening, Liz. I don’t know what to do.”
There was a long silence on the line. Then, finally, Liz’s voice came through, sharp and disbelieving.
“Michael, no. You didn’t say that to her.” Her tone was full of disbelief, as if she couldn't believe her ears. “Tell me you didn’t say that.”
“I did,” Michael said, his voice heavy with guilt. “I thought I was being fair. I thought I was just giving her some space, that maybe she’d... I don’t know, back off a little.”
Elizabeth sighed, a touch of frustration creeping into her voice. “Oh, Michael. You misunderstood everything. You thought her clinginess was a sign that she didn’t trust you, didn’t you?”
Michael’s stomach twisted. “Yeah, I mean... that’s what it seemed like. Like she was so attached to me, like she couldn’t do anything without me. I thought maybe she was insecure, and I didn’t want her to depend on me too much.”
There was a long pause on the other end, and then Elizabeth spoke again, her voice full of gentle reproach. “Oh, Michael, darling, you’ve missed the point entirely. She wasn’t being clingy because she doesn’t trust you. She wasn’t trying to make you feel burdened. She was needing you. She was reaching for you because she doesn’t feel secure unless she’s physically close to you. She has a deep need for that touch, for the reassurance of your affection. And when you called her clingy, she took that as a rejection. You made her feel like her need for closeness was wrong, like it was too much for you. And now she’s scared.”
Michael’s breath caught in his throat. “I didn’t know... I thought it was too much for her, not the other way around. I thought I was being understanding, giving her space. But now, she’s pulling away. I didn’t mean to make her feel like she was a burden. I-damn, I never wanted to hurt her.”
“Michael,” Elizabeth said gently, her voice softer now, “You’ve got to show her that she’s not a burden. You've got to show her that her need for affection, her need for touch, isn’t something that will drive you away. You need to remind her that you need her, too—that she’s safe with you. If you don’t, she’ll continue to build walls, and you’ll lose her.”
The next time you saw him, Michael didn’t approach you with his usual confidence. There was a gentleness in his gaze, an unspoken apology lingering in his eyes. He watched you for a moment, and you could feel his stare like a heavy weight.
You looked out at the city skyline from the balcony, the lights blinking softly in the distance, but they offered no comfort.
Michael came up behind you, his steps slow, careful. When he spoke, his voice was soft—tentative, even. “Hey.”
You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. Not yet.
“I’ve been thinking about... what I said,” he began. There was an edge to his voice, something heavy with regret. “And I was wrong. I hurt you, didn’t I?”
You froze at the sound of those words. You hadn’t expected him to apologize, let alone admit that he was wrong. But something in his voice made your chest tighten. You knew this was the moment. The moment when everything could either heal or break.
You finally turned to face him, your heart racing, and he took a step closer. His eyes were filled with something raw—guilt, yes, but also an open vulnerability that made your walls begin to crack, just a little.
“I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re more than enough, [Y/N]. I was blind to what you need... what you really need. And I’m sorry.”
His hand reached out for yours, his touch gentle. The moment his fingers brushed against yours, you felt the familiar warmth flood your chest, a wave of relief and sorrow. You wanted to pull away. You didn’t know if you could risk it. But his touch... it felt like home.
But your walls were so high now. Too high. “I don’t... I don’t know if I can,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can let you in again. You said I was too much. And now... I’m scared. Scared that I’m just a burden to you.”
Michael’s face softened, his brow furrowing in genuine concern. “You’re not a burden, [Y/N]. You’re my everything. And your affection? It’s not too much. I need it. I want it. I want you to need me, to reach for me. You’re not a burden, and you never will be.”
You shook your head, still too afraid to believe him. “But what if you just say that because you feel sorry for me? What if it’s just to make me feel better?”
He stepped forward, cupping your face in his hands gently, bringing you close enough to feel his breath on your skin. “I love you. And I love how much you love me. It’s not pity. It’s love. I want you, [Y/N], in every way. And I’m never going to push you away again.”
Your eyes welled up with tears, the weight of his words finally starting to chip away at the fortress you’d built around yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you could believe him this time.
He gently pulled you into his arms, and for a moment, you stood there, frozen. Your mind raced, every inch of you wanting to accept the comfort he was offering but also terrified of being hurt again. Your heart was pounding so loudly you thought he might hear it.
You stiffened as he enveloped you in his embrace, but his arms were warm and steady around you, as though he was holding you together, holding you in a space where you didn’t need to hide. His chin rested gently on the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. He stayed silent for a long moment, just holding you, and you felt the knot in your chest start to loosen, just a little.
But you were still afraid. Afraid to trust, afraid to let go.
"I don't know if I can do this," you whispered, your voice trembling against his chest. "I don’t want to hurt you again. I don’t want to be too much."
His grip on you tightened, just slightly, as if to anchor you to the moment. “You’re not too much, [Y/N]. You’re everything to me. I need you just as much as you need me. Please... don’t pull away from me now. I need you here. I need you close.”
You hesitated. His voice, raw and full of emotion, cut through the walls you had so carefully built around yourself. Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to stay distant, but your heart was fighting to break free, to reach for him, to believe in him again.
And so, after what felt like an eternity, you did. You let your guard down.
You lowered your head, resting it against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. Slowly, cautiously, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him in tighter. The tears you had been holding back since that day began to spill, and you pressed your face harder against him, as if trying to hide the vulnerability you felt.
Michael’s arms tightened around you, his hands stroking your back gently, soothingly. “I’m here, [Y/N]. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “You’re not alone. I promise.”
You breathed in deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, letting his warmth surround you. It felt safe. It felt right. And though you still had doubts buried deep within you, there was something undeniable about the way he held you. His words weren’t empty; they were full of truth.
“Please don’t push me away,” he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you. I’ll never stop needing you, [Y/N].”
You closed your eyes, letting the sound of his voice, the steady beat of his heart, fill your soul. You didn’t know how to let go of the fear that still clung to you, but with every second that passed in his arms, it began to fade, just a little.
“I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t reach for me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
You nodded against his chest, your voice barely a breath as you finally allowed yourself to speak. “Okay.”
The weight of your fears—of being too much, of pushing him away—seemed to melt away with every second that passed, wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace. You were still scared, but for the first time in a long while, you felt the stirrings of something else inside you. Hope. Trust.
And when he finally pulled back, just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze was full of love. His smile was gentle, reassuring.
“I’ll be here, always. Just... don’t push me away.”
You couldn’t help the smile that broke through the tears as you cupped his face in your hands. “I won’t. I promise.”
And as you leaned in to kiss him, the last of the walls inside you crumbled, and you finally, truly, felt like you were home.
Leo’s going to need to change his pants after this. Haha Omega really does wear the guns in the family. This is so perfect after your latest update. I can’t…
On the 17th of January, eighteen years ago, Brown Eyed Girls released their first mini album, With L.O.V.E.
With L.O.V.E. leans toward a smooth R&B and soulful pop sound that highlights Brown Eyed Girls’s strong vocals and mature image compared to many rookie girl groups at the time, with tracks that focus on love, heartbreak, and emotional vulnerability, combining soft melodies with jazzy and urban influences that set the foundation for their reputation as a vocally driven, more adult-oriented K-pop group.
