𝒑airing: maestro!michael jackson x teacher!fem!reader
𝓼ummary: when a storm leaves you stranded at michael’s mansion, you discover that the quiet music teacher from school is far more interesting than you ever imagined. but as the night unfolds, it becomes clear that michael has been hiding a secret for a while now.
𝓬w: supernatural themes, romantic tension, kissing, blood mention, minor injury/blood, slow burn, age gap, storm, coworkers to lovers-ish, mild horror elements.
the daylight had already begun to fade beyond the tall windows of the school when the final bell rang, making the old building seem darker than it actually was.
perhaps it was the ivy crawling across its stone walls or the ancient oak trees surrounding the property which gave that impression. whatever the reason was, it made the halls often feel more like the corridors of a university from another century than those of a middle school.
you hadn’t minded. in fact, it was one of the reasons you’d accepted the position.
there had been something appealing about leaving the city behind. something charming about quiet mornings, large forests at the side of the street and students who still greeted their teachers by name.
or at least, that was what you’d told yourself and your family when you had moved alone to town recently. the reality was that adjusting had been more difficult than expected.
everyone knew everyone, entire families had lived there for generations. maybe still being the outsider was one of the most difficult things you had to face, almost each conversation started asking you if you were new in town.
outside your classroom window, you could see the dark clouds gathering over the woods. the rain had been threatening all afternoon, but it finally looked like it was happening. autumn storms arrived quickly in this town, you had heard.
after all of the students left, you stayed in class finishing a stack of essays when a knock sounded against your open door. the principal christmann walked in with a smile on his face and you smiled back when you saw him.
“there you are. shouldn’t you be going home?” he commented once he got to your desk.
“i’ve been asking myself the same question.” you said, which made him laugh softly.
“oh, before i forget.” the principal then carefully placed a folder tucked beneath his arm on your desk. “this is the recital paperwork. mr. jackson left it in the conference room.”
you nodded as he spoke, already having an idea of what he wanted.
“could you leave it in his office before you go?”
christmann smiled gratefully.
“you’ll be saving my sanity. that recital has aged me at least five years over the past month and he needs those to finish whatever he needs to do.” he sighed as he fixed his brown blazer over his torso.
you had only spoken to mister michael jackson a handful of times since arriving in town. he was a very sweet man, one of the few who had welcomed you when you arrived at the school as the new literature teacher and the one who always seemed to greet you with a smile whenever he saw you.
he was charming, with a kind of beauty you had never seen outside of movies or works of art. at the same time, he was a solitary man who, despite being friendly, kept his distance from others and seemed to prefer being left alone. no one truly knew him.
however, he was perhaps the most respected teacher at the school. you had heard that his students adored him and enjoyed his music classes more than any others. you had also heard that michael became an open book whenever it came to sharing his knowledge with them.
it wasn't something you could verify yourself when most of your interactions consisted of exchanging greetings in the hallway or brief conversations after staff meetings. even so, several people had told you that you were the person they had seen him talk to the most.
he moved through the hallways with an almost dazzling grace, carrying himself with the straightest posture imaginable. talking to him had become something of a guilty pleasure. even if your conversations were never particularly long, you enjoyed every moment and every sweet compliment that left his lips.
“don't worry about it, mr. christmann.”
with that, he wished you a pleasant rest of your day and disappeared back into the hallway. you let out a deep sigh when you realized the school had emptied out faster than usual.
without noticing, you had become completely absorbed in grading papers and planning tomorrow's lesson.
maybe it was time to go home, you thought. you could finish grading the essays from the comfort of your house while staying out of the rain, and if you kept delaying, you knew there was a good chance the storm would catch you on the way.
quickly gathering your things, you carefully stuffed the papers into your bag, grabbed your coat and headed toward the parking lot, not before making sure you hadn't forgotten anything on your desk.
the moment you stepped outside the school, the wind felt much colder than it had that morning. it had picked up considerably and leaves skittered across the pavement in frantic circles while distant thunder rolled somewhere beyond the trees.
you hurried toward your car, tossing your belongings onto the passenger seat once you were inside. with a sigh, you rearranged the papers more neatly after taking off your coat, only to notice a folder buried at the bottom of the stack.
jackson's recital papers.
you had completely forgotten to leave them in his office in your rush to get ahead of the approaching rain. you sighed tiredly, telling yourself you'd give them to him first thing tomorrow morning. you were already far too exhausted to even consider going back.
the rain began about fifteen minutes after you’d pulled onto the road. at first, you figured it was only a drizzle and wouldn’t amount to much despite the forecast, hoping it would give you enough time to make it home safely. but it slowly intensified into a steady downpour, far more aggressive than you’d expected.
the windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the relentless drops and the tall trees on either side of the road blurred together, their branches bending beneath increasingly violent gusts of wind as visibility worsened by the minute.
still, you refused to give up. you were only just beginning to learn your way around the town, which meant you were navigating almost entirely from memory based on the routes you’d taken these past few weeks, not trusting your instincts or your exhausted mind, enough to improvise.
you slowed the car down but you didn’t stop, even when the road briefly disappeared behind a curtain of rain. you were driving painfully slow now, unable to see any lights besides the occasional flash that illuminated the trees whenever another bolt of lightning cracked somewhere in the distance.
the fact that you could barely see anything while crawling along a dark highway worried you. a few more minutes passed before you finally admitted defeat. pulling onto the shoulder seemed smarter than risking ending up in a ditch, so you carefully guided the car to the side of the road and let out a heavy breath once the vehicle came to a stop.
the rain hammering against the roof filled the silence alongside the soft hum of the engine. you exhaled deeply without letting go of the steering wheel. the whole reason you’d wanted to get home so badly was because you were starving and now there was no telling how long you’d have to wait for the storm to calm down. the daylight would be gone soon and you’d be stranded on a dark stretch of road.
a series of heavy drops suddenly made you lift your head, immediately turning toward the source of the sound. it was coming from the driver window, the inside of the door was nearly soaked and water had already started dripping onto the seat.
of course, you’d also forgotten to get the window fixed before storm season arrived.
“no, no, no." you muttered under your breath, grabbing your coat and pressing it against the gap where the water was coming through. you left your arm braced there, applying pressure in a desperate attempt to keep any more rain from leaking inside.
another heavy sigh left your lips, and with your free hand, you rubbed at your face, the weight of the week settling heavily across your shoulders as you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a second. now the water seemed to be soaking through the fabric of your coat and in turn, the sleeve of your blouse but you couldn't let go of it or everything would get even wetter. you also tried to ignore the fact that there wasn't much fresh air left inside the car.
another crack of thunder shook the entire sky, making you pull your hand away from your face and lift your head, glancing around. when you noticed a blurry figure slowly approaching your car, you first thought it might be a trick of the rain or the distant flashes of lightning, so you blinked several times. the figure kept coming through the heavy downpour, moving slowly along a path you could barely make out.
that made you sit up straighter, your entire body tensed when the figure stopped beside the passenger-side window. you swallowed hard as your hand slowly moved toward the key in the ignition, ready to start the car again and drive off.
your exhaustion was feeding every trace of paranoia, probably. without looking directly at the person, you were about to turn the key when you heard a few gentle knocks against the window.
you froze for a moment while your stomach twisted almost painfully. then another set of knocks sounded against the glass and you shifted in your seat, noticing that whoever it was seemed to be holding an umbrella overhead. finally, after moving the paperwork onto your lap so it wouldn't get wet, you lowered the passenger-side window just a little.
the first thing you saw were those beautiful brown eyes, framed by perfectly shaped brows. you could've recognized them from miles away with how striking and unique they were. a sigh of relief slipped from your lips the moment you realized it was professor jackson and you lowered the window a little more despite the rain splashing onto the seat.
“good evening.” he said with a small smile, his voice carrying that same velvety that never seemed to rise more than necessary.
“jesus christ.” you breathed the second you recognized him, every muscle in your body finally relaxing.
that made his smile wider.
“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to scare you.”
a long coat, perfectly tailored across his shoulders, shifted gently with the wind. beneath it, you could make out the high collar of a white shirt and black trousers. his dark, perfectly curled hair fell over his shoulders, somehow making the rain seem irrelevant to him as he stood there beneath a large dark umbrella.
you tried to smile, attempting to look relaxed after the scare you'd just gotten, one you didn't particularly want to admit to.
“it's okay. i just didn't expect to see anyone out here.” you said, still breathing slowly enough that you hoped he wouldn't notice.
“well, i couldn't help noticing you sitting outside my house, so i wanted to see if everything was okay.”
his words made you frown.
michael stepped slightly aside to give you a better view. beyond an elaborate set of iron gates stood a massive mansion, connected to the very path you'd seen him walking down from. with the rain blurring the windows, you hadn't paid much attention to your surroundings, and even if you had, you never would've imagined someone actually lived in a place like that. that was when you realized you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere, you'd never seen that property before.
“that one right there.” he said, before stepping back into the spot where he'd been standing.
“oh, sorry, i hadn't realized it was there. i didn't mean to bother you.”
“quite the opposite.” he said immediately after your apology. “you might want to wait inside.”
when you didn't answer right away, he seemed to read the uncertainty in your expression as though he understood why you weren't sure it was a good idea. quickly, he added,
“just until the weather settles down.”
“i wouldn't want to impose...”
“you won't. i think it's better than sitting in a car that's slowly filling with rain.”
you glanced down at the arm still pressed against the window, trying to stop the leak. a small puddle had begun forming along the inside of the door where water kept slipping through the faulty seal, though you weren't entirely sure how he'd noticed it so quickly.
he had a point. if you stayed in there much longer, you were going to lose your mind and you really had nothing to lose.
you quickly rolled the passenger-side window back up and left the essays on the backseat as michael walked around the vehicle to wait for you outside with the umbrella.
you grabbed his folder before opening the door. the cold air and a few stray drops hit your skin instantly. before you could fully step out, michael shifted the umbrella over your head, moving closer to keep both of you covered. the path leading toward the mansion wasn't particularly narrow but somehow you still found yourself walking beside him rather than apart from him.
you held the folder against your chest to protect it. his arm remained draped across your shoulders, shielding you whenever a gust of rain tried to sneak beneath the umbrella. his body wasn't especially warm but it felt protective all the same.
you didn't look up until you realized just how enormous the house was from up close.
the stone steps leading to the front entrance glistened beneath the rain. ivy climbed sections of the facade, while tall windows reflected the occasional flashes of lightning streaking across the sky behind them.
michael opened the front door, and when you stepped inside, the storm became little more than a muffled murmur as he closed the door behind him.
the first thing you noticed was the warm scent that seemed to come from the countless books lining the shelves in the sitting room, accompanied by the soft crackling of a lit fireplace. the combination relaxed you almost instantly.
an antique chandelier hanging overhead was the next thing to catch your attention, casting a golden glow that illuminated the intricate carvings in the dark wooden walls. an elegant staircase curved toward the second floor, disappearing into hallways lit only by scattered lamps.
“you have such a beautiful house.” you said in a soft, near whisper as michael set the umbrella down by the front door.
you could hear the light smile in his voice despite not looking at him, still too busy admiring every detail of the place, which you were fairly certain qualified as a mansion.
you noticed a massive grandfather clock standing against a wall lined with portraits. its hands moved with a gentle tick-tock that barely echoed through the room.
beyond the foyer, you could see open rooms filled with bookshelves, warm lamps and more antique furniture.
“can i ask how many people live here with you?” you asked, turning to look at him, still holding the folder against your chest.
he glanced up while carefully hanging his coat on a nearby rack, revealing a white long-sleeved shirt with delicate ruffled details at the cuffs.
his answer made you look around the enormous space once again.
“really? because this place is huge.”
you watched him give a small shrug as he made his way over to stand in front of you.
“well, i've had time to get used to it.”
a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the second-floor windows. for a fraction of a second, it looked as though a shadow crossed the upstairs hallway. but when you blinked, it was gone.
michael didn't seem to react and you decided not to mention it either. the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. besides, the house felt genuinely cozy, certainly better than sitting in your car.
“can i get you something to drink?” his soft voice interrupted the brief silence.
“i'm okay, you don't have to.”
“tea?” he offered, his lips still faintly curved into a smile.
honestly, tea sounded wonderful. the problem was that you didn't want to inconvenience him in his own home.
“tea sounds good. thanks.”
michael nodded, and before heading in what you assumed was the direction of the kitchen, he added, “make yourself comfortable. i'll be right back.”
once he disappeared, you found yourself completely alone in a mansion so large you thought it might swallow you whole.
the silence inside the house felt different from the silence of any other home you'd ever visited.
your footsteps were slow as you wandered through the foyer. an enormous antique mirror occupied one wall while family portraits decorated another. some looked incredibly old, others less so and you found yourself wondering how many generations had lived there.
you stepped closer to examine one of them, studying a black and white photograph, then another and then another. there was a strange melancholy woven through all of them, yet there wasn't a single trace of michael in any of the pictures.
suddenly, a loud thud echoed from somewhere on the second floor, making you immediately lift your head. the silence that settled afterward made you frown.
when michael returned a few minutes later, he carried a silver tray holding two matching cups. steam rose slowly from the tea toward the glow of the chandelier overhead.
he set the tray down on the small coffee table in front of the red velvet sofas and handed one of the cups to you. you accepted it carefully, murmuring a ‘thank you.’
your body seemed grateful for the first sip of tea, especially your body temperature.
“i'm sorry. i was snooping.” you admitted, the rim of the cup brushing against your lips.
michael seemed to smile once again, his own cup still untouched in his hand.
“looking at photographs isn’t snooping.” his gaze drifted toward them before, saying, “it’s my family. some of them, anyway.”
his words gave you enough reassurance to look back at the various portraits.
“this house has been in your family for a long time?”
a slightly different expression crossed his face for a moment as though he had softened at the memory of something he didn’t mention.
“longer than you might realize.”
that made you fall silent for a moment, unsure whether you should ask one of the many questions already circling through your head as you took another sip of the tea, which tasted faintly of lavender or something similar. then your attention fell to the folder still clutched in your hands.
“oh, by the way. christmann told me to give you this, you left it in the conference room.” you handed him the folder, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders now that the responsibility was no longer yours. “looks important.”
michael set his untouched cup of tea down on the shelf beside the photographs and took the folder from your hands, his fingers barely brushing yours. he opened it and quickly looked through the contents.
“it absolutely is. i really appreciate it, y/n.”
his eyes remained locked on yours longer than you felt they should have. instead of feeling uncomfortable, you found yourself confirming once again that you had truly never seen a pair of eyes more beautiful than his. being around him even at work felt like constantly fighting the urge to cradle his handsome face in your hands and gently stroke his cheeks.
in a way, you liked knowing that michael didn’t live with a wife. it was difficult to imagine a man so polite, well-mannered and handsome having no one beside him to share such a massive house with.
another loud thud echoed somewhere in the distance, pulling you from your thoughts. you weren’t even sure whether it had come from upstairs like the previous one. your gaze drifted away from his and toward the staircase instead and he immediately seemed to notice the slight tension in your shoulders.
“did you hear that?” you couldn’t help asking this time.
“yeah, the house makes noises.” he said it so casually that he almost managed to convince you it was perfectly normal.
but when you looked back at him, you could’ve sworn you caught the briefest amused smile tugging at his lips, maybe enjoying your confusion a little too much.
“come on.” he said as he set the folder down on the same coffee table. “i’ll show you where all those noises come from.”
your first instinct was to ask whether he actually knew where they were coming from but michael had already turned around and started walking toward the staircase you’d been staring at.
without thinking too much about it, you left your empty teacup beside his untouched one on the shelf and followed after him. the dark wooden stairs creaked softly beneath his steps, and as you climbed, you caught that same scent from before growing stronger.
the hallways were lined with deep red carpets. framed portraits hung every few feet, built-in bookshelves filled sections of the walls and small tables were decorated with clocks, ornaments and even more photographs. michael walked ahead of you with almost flawless elegance, carrying himself with a calmness that seemed impossible to imitate.
“this place is amazing…” you commented, almost to yourself.
“thank you.” michael glanced back at you for a fraction of a second before looking forward again. “it’s older than it looks.”
“really? how old?” you asked, trying not to fall too far behind him.
“parts of it were built over a century ago.”
michael opened a door once you reached the end of the hallway, revealing a library. thousands of books filled shelves that stretched nearly to the ceiling, with a rolling ladder running along part of them. a fire crackled softly inside a marble fireplace while rain battered the tall windows and several armchairs sat gathered around the hearth.
it was, quite possibly, the most beautiful room you had ever seen.
he crossed the library without any apparent hurry while you followed close behind, watching as he approached one of the tall windows that occupied nearly an entire wall. the rain continued striking the glass while the wind whistled through the trees outside and that was when you noticed that one of the window panes had been left slightly open.
every time a stronger gust swept through the woods, the wood rattled against the frame, producing the very sound that had seemed far more mysterious from the other side of the mansion.
michael rested a hand against the window and gently closed it, making the noise disappear.
the slight embarrassment coloring your voice was difficult to hide as you remembered how tense the sound had made you. he turned his head toward you with the corner of his mouth lifting.
“were you hoping for a ghost?”
you shook your head, pressing your lips together and lifting your shoulders.
“don’t be silly, of course not.” was all you could manage to say.
“i’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
you heard him chuckle softly and you liked it far more than you should have.
while he secured the window latch, your attention drifted toward one of the nearby bookshelves. hundreds of books occupied the shelves, perhaps thousands. some looked so old it was difficult to imagine anyone touching them.
“you have quite a collection.” you said.
your fingers absentmindedly traced several spines before stopping on one particularly worn volume, one that appeared to be about history.
“i’ve never met someone who owns this many history books. it’s like people forgot about them.”
“well, that’s because people don’t read them anymore.” you heard his delicate footsteps approach until he was standing beside you in front of the bookshelf.
“i do.” you said as you turned to look at him and he looked at you at the same time.
“you like history? i thought you taught literature.”
“yeah, but the two go hand in hand.”
michael thought for a second before pulling a dark-covered book from the shelf. “then you’ve probably read this one.”
“i don’t think i have. what is it?”
you turned to open the volume michael handed you. before you realized it, the conversation started to flow naturally. you two moved from one book to another and then another.
michael seemed to know every shelf by memory, every author and every date as well. it was fascinating listening to him speak with a quiet passion you had never seen from him before. he was different from the man you saw at school every day. this version of him was more open, perhaps even more expressive.
eventually, you found yourself watching him more than the books spread across the coffee table, he really had a beautiful smile. little by little, the two of you ended up settled on one of the large sofas in front of the fire. an open book rested across your lap and another across his while you shared your thoughts and knowledge about whatever the other happened to mention.
before long, time lost its importance. it was comfortable, more comfortable than you had ever imagined you would feel around him. so comfortable that, at some point, your eyelids grew heavy without you noticing, once the two of you had settled into reading your own books in silence and occasionally making a comment about them.
your head slowly began to tilt to one side either, coming to rest against the back of the sofa.
when you woke up, the library was darker than before. disoriented, you stayed still for a few seconds as you looked around. the fire in the fireplace had been reduced to glowing embers and the book was still open on your lap.
you slowly blinked, sitting up carefully. michael was no longer there, making you realize that you were completely alone in the immense library. the window seemed to be making that noise again.
“michael?” your voice was barely audible. you stood up slowly, still rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, trying to shake off the sleep.
no answer came, so you decided to go look for him. the hallway felt like it was going to swallow you with its vastness, a couple of lamps were still on but not all of them. some shadows stretched across the walls and the sound of the window was even louder than when you arrived.
it seemed like the portraits were watching you from their places as you walked slowly. the mansion was beautiful but you couldn’t hide that it held something unsettling, especially for one person alone.
“michael?” you called for him again. you were so tense that the window and another, slightly sharper sound made you flinch.
when the silence returned, you heard a note in the distance followed by another. a piano sounded muffled somewhere, the melody drifting through the entire house. without thinking about it, you started following it.
you descended the stairs, regardless of how strange it felt to walk through someone else’s house on your own. you crossed a few more dark hallways at a quicker pace until you found a partially open door.
you pushed the door open gently when you realized the music was coming from there. michael was sitting in front of the piano, completely absorbed in playing. some sheet music rested open on the piano and the light from a lamp barely illuminated his beautiful profile.
you stood there watching him without saying anything, simply admiring the ease with which his fingers moved across the keys. then he looked up and stopped playing, smiling at you.
“didn’t mean to wake you.” he commented.
trying not to feel embarrassed, you shrugged slightly.
“no, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to fall asleep in your library.”
“i wouldn’t worry about it.” he said with a voice even softer than before. then he shifted slightly on the bench he was sitting on and patted the space beside him. “come sit.”
trying to hide the slight warmth in your cheeks, you walked over and sat beside him in front of the large, elegant piano. you noticed that the sheet music was inside the folder you had given him. but it was incomplete.
it seemed like michael noticed your eyes on it, because he quickly said, “i’m finishing it right now. it’s for the recital.”
then he started playing again. the melody felt familiar, you had heard some fragments of it during rehearsals but this time it sounded even more complete and melancholic. your eyes lowered to his hands, large and agile, playing each key with such natural ease that his talent became almost intimidating.
once the song ended, he turned to look for your eyes and you lifted yours to meet his. you were so close that it felt impossible to want to look away, his features seeming almost porcelain-like up close.
“you’re beautiful.” you murmured before you could stop the words. your cheeks began to burn again with a faint blush.
“i could say the same thing about you.” he said, his gaze lowering for a second before meeting your eyes again. “i don’t usually have company.”
you let the silence slip between you for a few seconds, noticing the softness of his lips at this distance.
“i don’t understand why.” you murmured. “you’re a very wonderful man.”
for the first time that night and in all the time you had spent getting to know michael, you noticed a certain shadow of hesitation in him when his attention fell to your mouth. and that was what finally convinced you, his small display of vulnerability and the fact that he wanted it just as much as you did.
your hand moved to gently brush against his on the bench, as if you were giving him permission. then he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. you both immediately moved against the contact, slow at first. a sigh escaped your mouth at his sweet taste and the smoothness of his movements.
michael cupped one of your cheeks with his hand to deepen the kiss, which made you tilt your head and part your lips slightly. he did the same, making the kiss deeper as one of your hands now caressed his chest. your stomach fluttered and your nerves were on edge, and you couldn’t help but melt in his arms at how well he kissed.
he sighed as the kiss gained speed and then depth. your head tilted the other way and you clung to his shirt. he then cradled the back of your head and you brushed the pads of your fingers over the bare skin of his chest. you bit his lower lip, which made him pull yours with extreme gentleness.
with the same care, he took your waist and shifted you, making you sit on the piano so he stood between your legs. a low gasp escaped your lips as your tongues brushed, searching for his to slowly entwine despite the urgency the kiss had taken while you stroked his cheek.
you felt a slight sting in your index finger suddenly, briefly recalling when one of the old pages of the book you’d been reading had grazed it and cut it slightly. then michael slowly pulled back, your lips tingled as he did.
his large hands rested on your thighs to keep them apart. you breathed heavily without saying anything for a few seconds until michael squeezed your legs.
“you’re bleeding.” he murmured.
then something wet on your finger caught your attention, a small red line crossing the tiny cut. he noticed it before even a drop of blood had the chance to gather on your finger.
“it must be a paper cut.” you said, absentmindedly wiping your finger with the thumb of the same hand.
but michael remained still and didn’t answer. you noticed his shoulders becoming tense and also that something about him had changed. his gaze remained fixed on a spot near your hand, almost giving the impression that he wasn’t breathing.
then you searched for his eyes, gently brushing your fingers along his chin. “michael, are you okay?”
he licked his lips and didn’t look at you again, only giving a small kiss to your hand while you still had it resting on his chin. his jaw was tightening, his silence started to worry you.
“michael…” when you called his name again, this time he lifted his gaze to yours. something in his eyes had changed, perhaps something darker now.
his eyes lowered back to your injured hand.
“i should get you something for that.” he mentioned and took a step back, walking toward the door.
“you don’t have to, it’s tiny.”
you lifted your hand to look at the cut, there was a little more blood quickly coming out because of the depth of the cut despite it being small. then a drop of the same size slid down your finger and michael stopped dead.
it looked as if he was fighting against himself, he closed his eyes for a fraction of a second while running a hand along his jaw. you suddenly felt cold at the absence of his body and then stepped down from the piano, hesitating whether you should walk toward him.
“did i do something wrong?” you asked, carefully wiping your finger on your clothes.
michael stayed frozen in that same position without turning to look at you, taking his time before answering.
“you should go home, y/n.”
that confused you, making you frown, also because his voice sounded slightly shaky.
that was when you dared to take a step toward him and he immediately raised a hand behind him to signal for you to stop, which you did. but when he didn’t say or do anything else, you hurried to walk over until you were standing behind him.
you placed a hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it. you noticed that your touch made him tense up even more, however, you continued caressing him and tried to take his hand, which he squeezed as soon as you did.
“i wanna help you.” you murmured. “please.”
“you can’t.” he murmured back, without letting go of your hand. his skin had become noticeably colder than before, almost as cold as stone. “i just don’t want you to run away.”
that made your breath catch in your throat.
then michael slowly turned his head over his shoulder, his slightly parted lips revealing sharp, bright fangs, white and perfect.
he didn’t let go of your hand, even if you felt like your heart had stopped beating.
n/a: you guys have no idea how much i enjoyed writing this 😭 i love the ghosts short film with my entire heart and i love dark academia too, michael fits this concept so ridiculously well i couldn’t help it
the blood on the dance floor album was on repeat the entire week it took me to write this, so i really hope you enjoy it ♡
