Fall Again (a Michael Jackson fanfiction)

35. Happiness

Michaels POV 🥀

She'd smelt of coconut perfume, cotton fabric conditioner, her lips tasted like strawberries and I'd seen a blush spread over her olive cheeks.
Her breath tasted of spearmint toothpaste and her hair felt as soft as silk, curling around my fingers.

Her eyes were big and as brown as chocolate, peering out from under thick black lashes. She was perfect.

I dreamt about the kiss that night, feeling her soft hands on my face, wiping tears, and pushing my hair behind my ear.
I could smell her coconut perfume, and for the first time this week I didn't have nightmares

I woke up feeling a bit cold, and pulled the thin lilac blanket over me, shivering.

For the first time in ages, I began to think about life after my depression, my illness, after living while wanting to die.
But I didn't want to leave Clemmie Woods.

I knew patients and nurses weren't supposed to stay in contact after admission, but I really didn't want to lose her, my Hope.

At least not so soon ...

I got up and pulled out a notebook I had, then I started scribbling down words, a song. I called it "She gives me Hope".

"She lit up my life
When the nights were long and dark
She gave me hope
And healed my broken heart
Before I knew her
Life was empty and grey
But now I know her
She exists in my mind all day"

It wasn't very good, I was half asleep while writing it - and before I could finish it I was drifting off to sleep again, dreaming of Hope and Neverland and my family.

I was woken up the next morning after having several pleasant dreams, by Sofia bringing round morning medication.

I wanted desperately to go back to sleep to try and get back into my dream but I knew it would get reported to the doctor if I didn't take the meds so I sat up grumpily and swallowed them down with water from a cup, then lay back down gratefully.

I couldn't get back to sleep after that, so I dragged myself up and went to look for Hope. If Sofia was here now it was likely Hope would be too.

I knocked on the office door and Derek opened, yawning and rubbing his left eye. "Hello, Mr Jackson!"

"Is Hope in there?" I asked.

"Hey, Hopey!" He called, and she appeared at the door, smiling.

"Hello, mister Michael." She shut the door behind her and stood next to me. "Do you want to go to your room?"
I nodded, and we walked together, her hand close to mine.

I wanted to grab it but didn't want to be too forward, she was awkwardly looking around the corridor as we headed to my room.

I was thinking of buying a new body spray, so I asked her "What's your favourite smell?"

"I like coconut and lemons." She replied, grinning at me. "Why?"

I waited until we were in my room and then told her of my plans. She stroked my cheek, "Mike, you smell lovely as it is."

"Thank you, Hope Carey Rose Emerson."  I joked.

She looked surprised that I had remembered her full name, then smiled again. "You're welcome, Michael Joseph Jackson."

She was picking at her nails again, a sure sign of her nervousness - and I gently lifted her hands, looking at her long nails - which she had painted for once, silver and black.

I felt a flush in my cheeks, had she painted them just for me?
I shook the thought away, of course she hadn't.