I'd Kiss You Goodbye If I Thought It Would Make You Stay

“I wanna feel the sand beneath my feet, breathe the breath of your fresh air. Feel the silence of this room; lay in bed when you’re not there. Be the source of best advice, when you’re in dying need of it. ‘Cause I love you too much to let you go now.” – New Found Glory

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I drop my phone and it clatters against the wood floor. I can’t believe it. I’ve only just seen him a few hours ago, so it’s not possible that in such short a time everything has changed.

And now I realize I’ve dropped my phone and I’m fumbling to pick it up, but I feel like I’m hyperventilating because it’s just not fair and he can’t be hurt because it’s not fair-

“Rae? Hello? Are you there, Rae?” I hear him ask and I press the phone back to my ear.

“Is…he okay?” I gasp, because now I’m actually at a loss for breath and I’m waiting for the bad news. I can’t breathe, someone’s squeezing my lungs, and my eyes are blurry and I’m crying. And I need Bill to answer me now.

“He’s perfectly fine, Rae. Just a little bruised up,” he assures me. “Can you come?”

“Bill-” I start, but I’m not sure what I’m trying to say because there are so many questions cramming my mind right now.

“He wants to see you,” he informs me.

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I’m sitting in the hospital, face in hands as tears silently drip from my face.

“It’s all my fault,” I mumble miserably, wiping a few stray tears from my cheeks.

“It’s not your fault, Rae. Don’t blame yourself,” Mike reassures me, squeezing my hand as an attempt at comfort while I lean on his shoulder. I don’t know why I’m crying. I should just be glad that he’s alive. But if I hadn’t let him leave, he wouldn’t have gotten into the car accident in the first place.

“He can only have three visitors at a time, so you’ll have to wait until someone comes out,” the nurse informs me, as she exits the room and sees me waiting expectantly.

William soon appears in the doorway, immediately coming to hug me as I stand up.

“He wants to see you, Rae,” William tells me. “He keeps asking for you.” I nod and wipe my eyes.

I open the door and step inside, hesitating in the doorway. I watch on in guilt as Butcher turns Michael’s arm bandages into a work of art with permanent markers while Sisky entertains him with a story about Baby. The door clicks closed rather loudly behind me and then the three of them finally notice me standing there.

“I’ll finish later,” Butcher says, capping his Sharpies and setting them on the bedside table. He follows Sisky past me in the doorway, and they both smile encouragingly at me before leaving and closing the door.

“Well, come over here,” he grins crookedly at me, seeing as I haven’t moved from my spot at the door. I slowly make my way over to him, stopping at his bedside. He sits up straight and moves over, patting the bare spot of the bed, and I sit down carefully. He places a bandaged hand over mine, squeezing it softly, and I run my fingers over it with my other hand.

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you if I touch you,” I confess, finally looking at him. Both his forehead and left hand are bandaged, and he has various bruises decorating his arms and a smaller one right above an eyebrow. “How bad is it?” I ask softly.

“Not too bad,” he replies. “A few stitches, but they’re keeping me for the rest of the day to run tests to make sure nothing else is wrong,” he explains, motioning to his head with his uninjured hand. “I sprained my wrist,” he adds, shrugging indifferently, as if it’s nothing.

“It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Michael,” I blurt out, unable to stop myself.

“It’s not your fault, Rae. Jason’s the one who asked me to stop for Doritos on my way back,” he says, giving a small laugh and a smile.

“That’s not what I mean,” I continue in a strained voice, not finding any humor in this. He looks confused. I sniffle a little, surprised to feel my eyes getting wet all over again. “You could have been badly hurt, Michael!” I exclaim, tears now rolling down my cheeks, and I don’t care if I’m being dramatic; I could have easily lost him for good.

“I’m fine, Rae. You don’t need to cry,” he comforts, wiping my face for me. “I’ll be good as new in a week or so.”

“But what if you weren’t? What if you were gone, and-” I pause, trying to collect myself and stop crying. “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you and we never got the chance to try again,” I say, and now he’s smiling softly at me.

“Are you saying you’re ready to give me another chance?” he asks, the mixed color of his eyes glimmering in a hesitant smile.

“Only if you still want me,” I reply, biting my lip nervously, my unreasonable fears returning to haunt my emotions as always.

“Rae, I’ll always only want you,” he assures me, raising his hand to my cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” I say again, wrapping my arms around his neck cautiously. He hugs me back, sighing contentedly. “I love you,” I add, and I find that the words are just as easy to say as they were all those months ago.

“I love you, too,” he replies immediately. I pull away slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Michael?” I ask.

“Hmm?” he murmurs back. I answer by attaching my lips to his. We’re kind of in an awkward position with me half-leaning over him, so he pulls me onto his lap as the kiss gets more heated. I knot my hands in his hair, and he grips my waist as if he’s never letting go again. Not that I have any problems with it.

It’s the first time I’ve kissed him in so long, and I’m feeling lightheaded but I don’t stop because it feels so amazing to have him close to me like this again. I want to ask him something but it can wait a few minutes, right?

With the kiss, I pour out my emotions to him and hope he gets the messages. I want to tell him that I’m sorry, that I love him, that he’s amazing, and countless other things I want to communicate but can’t just yet because my lips are preoccupied at the moment.

“Will you stay with me?” I ask, when we finally pull away, faces flushed and out of breath. He nods, smiling before latching his lips back onto mine, and I don’t even have to say I mean that question in more ways than one.