Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Michael climbed up your fatherβs ladder through your bay window. A flat, square package tucked in between his arm and torso. He pulled it out and smiled. Him with his afro in front of a brick wall in a black suit and sparkling socks. Off the Wall.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βItβs for you. It comes out in a few days, butβ¦β he shrugged his shoulders, βI just couldnβt wait.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Michael slid the record out of the sleeve and placed it on record player. A plucked guitar along with his mumbling played from the speakers.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βDance with me,β he said, holding out his hand.
this wip is supposed to serve as a backstory for "girlfriend" from off the wall (let's pretend michael wrote it and not paul mccartney). the more i write for this, the more i realize it's going to be longer than i anticipated. pls enjoy this excerpt. <3
All that remained was you and the door to his apartment. You raised your fist to knock. One, two, three, four, five times. Your jaw quivered. The silence consumed you. You raised your hand to knock again. The door opened right before your fist met the wood. There he was.
He wore a colorful, patterned button-down shirt. The top three buttons remained unbuttoned, exposing his chest. The sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Warm vanilla flooded your nostrils. Two fresh splatters of liquid adorned his neck where it met his jaw. Droplets from each slid down to his collarbones. He smiled that crooked smile of his. Your body felt lighter as if helium replaced everything within you.
Michael pulled you into his arms, clamping you against him like vice grips. You laid your head on his shoulder, melting into him like ice cream in the summer. Your vision blurred. You closed your eyes to keep the tears from falling.
All your doubts and worries dissipated in the embrace. It didnβt feel like it mattered that you were taken. It didnβt matter that Michael was rich and famous. Your motherβs expectations for your love life seemed a million miles away.
βYou feel like heaven.β He swayed you from side to side, letting out a relieved sigh.
He pulled away to look at you. His ebony eyes roamed your face. There was a slight sparkle on the edge of his pupils. His hands traveled from your shoulders to your cheeks. He leaned his forehead against yours. His thumbs rubbed circles on your jaw.
Michael licked his bottom lip, and your body ran cold. A lump clogged your throat. The fine hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention. He brought his lips down a little closer to yours. That staticky feeling plagued your entire body.
A kiss wasnβt too bad, right? It meant nothing, didnβt it? If Ricky kissed someone else, would you have cared?
You closed your eyes, expecting to feel his lips on yours, but Michael removed himself from you. βIβll bring your bags in,β he said. Your eyes fluttered open. He was smiling, but there was a slight strain on his face. Trying not to laugh, maybe. Your face burned.
