Butterflies

"I, I'm talking about-" My pathetic whispers were cut short in my throat as his he shifted lightly from one foot to the other and his face was put even close to mine. He raised an eyebrow at me then.

"Talking about?" When he spoke, I could feel his breath against my lips. I closed my eyes and held my breath for a moment, trying to gather back my senses, because Lord knows I lost it all when he got this close to me. "Who is it, Melacia?" He whispered.

"I, I can't tell you." I could've slapped myself for saying that. If I wasn't obvious before, I surely was now.

"Why can't you tell me?" He whispered softly. Maybe it was my selfish mind playing tricks on me, but I could've sworn he just looked down at my lips as he was talking.

"Um, what?" I sounded like an idiot. I hadn't even paid attention to his question for I was too focused on the distance that could easily be closed between us, if I dared.

"Why can't you tell me who this is, Mel?" He stared at me intently. I chewed on the inside of my lower lip as I studied his beautiful face.

"I just can't, and you -" I paused to breathe in, trying to regain my composure. "- you have to understand that." It sounded like it came out as more of a gasp, than a firm statement, as I'd wanted it to sound.

The very moment he started to speak again, his cell phone ring tone burst through the air and the breath I'd been holding came out in one thankful moment. I broke away from Michael's and gestured for him to answer it. He sighed but did it anyway.

"Hello? Yes, she's here with me. No, she's fine, now." He glanced over at me as he spoke to most likely one of my parents. "No problem, Mr. Jennings. Good bye." I watched as he hung up his phone and shoved it back into his pocket before emerging toward me. "That was your dad."

"Psh, figures." I rolled my eyes as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"So you're not going to tell me who this mystery guy is?" Michael sighed as he took another step closer and my folded arm were against his upper torso. I sighed and looked up to meet his eyes.

"Maybe some other time." I replied, with that I turned to walk away from him.

I got lost a couple of times and had to ask for directions to certain streets on my way back home, since I'd ventured a little farther than I'd meant to, but I eventually made it home. As soon as I walked through the door and they heard the sound of it being shut, all was at their feet and in my face.

"Where have you been? You know we've been worried sick about you!" My mother snapped at me.

"You couldn't have been that worried, I mean, Michael did tell you I was with him, and that I was fine."

"Yes," she narrowed her eyes at me, "indeed he did."

"What now?" I asked, my temper already escalating.

"It's just a little strange, sweetheart, that you would run to Michael during a situation such as this if our suspicions weren't correct."

"When are you gonna stop?!" I shouted, my blood boiling over. "He's my best friend, in case you've forgotten! FYI, I didn't go to him! I went to a park and he found me there, we stayed and talked the entire time! I'm not this horrible person you make me out to be, just because I'm not a soldier in the military like your son, and my house came from my best friend's bank account, in case you've forgotten! And I would never, ever be low life enough to go around with a man who is taken! Who I'm in love with! Whose relationship I've minded so many times because I hate to see him hurt, including just last night, in case you have forgotten!" I stressed the last part. "I'm so sick of being treated like the least or the most unimportant because I don't have anything of my own, and what I do have, didn't come from a hard working job. I'm so sick! So I'm out of here. I've got the key to my house and my house is ready. I'm so done here." I walked away from all of there shocked, gaping faces and ran upstairs to pack my things.

I was only taking everything I absolutely needed. Clothes, necessities, anything close or important to me from down through the years, my iPod. Other than that, the house was furnished and all set. I was ready to go see my new home. I walked downstairs into the silent living room rolling my suit case to the door. I saw Annika sitting on the couch with wide eyes, looking frightened and worried.

"Come here, Annie." I called her over to me by the nick name Michael had given her.

She walked over to me and I wrapped her in my arms. "Are you ever coming back?" I smiled half half-heartedly at her.

"Of course, I'll be back to see you, Freesia, and Josh while he's in." I said this at a level that I hoped my parents would over hear, to let them know I was fed up with them. She smiled and wrapped her arms tight around my neck, as I'd bent down to her level. "See you soon, baby girl." I smiled before standing and leaving without further word.

I smiled to myself as I pulled up in front of the familiar house. I parked the car in front of the garage, got my suit case, and walked up to the front door. I gasped as I walked inside. It was beautiful the first time I'd seen, I didn't think there was much more you could do to such a beautiful home, but Michael, once again, has proved me wrong.

The living room was breath taking. I'd never expected in my life, I'd ever have these kind of luxurious things. I walked through to the kitchen and grinned widely. It didn't look much different, except more homey. Since it was the next, closest thing, I ventured through the glass, wooden framed doors that led me to the patio around back. I grinned. It looked awesome. The yard was freshly cut, I had a grill and a patio table. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

I suddenly had the huge urge to see the rest of the house, excitement took over and I bolted back through the doors and down the hall, which was decorated with pictures of me and Michael all the way from childhood to now, it also had family pictures, Josh and I, Freesia and Annika. I smiled as I looked over the display until I came to the first door, the main bathroom, and I must say, the man knew how to make, even a bathroom look amazing. I ventured down the hall to the next door, which I'd claimed would be the guest room. He went all out for just a guest room. I wasn't really sure why there were two beds, though. I'd ask him later. There was a TV and all! I shook my head, grinning as the excitement bubbled in me and I want to reach the last door in the hall, my room. I gasped as I walked in the looked at the display before my eyes. I nearly cried. Never in my life did I ever dream of having a room of my own, so extravagant. I ran over to where I saw a cordless phone hooked up on a bedside table and dialed Michael's number quickly.

"Hello?"

"It's beautiful!" I practically shouted through the unstoppable tears that made their way down my cheeks.

"I'm glad you like it." I spun around at the sound of his voice, not through the phone, but through the doorway.

"When did you-?"

"Your mom called all upset, yelling at me. Said you left for good." He shrugged. "I knew you'd come here." I smiled through the mascara mess that I was sure was now on my face and ran to him wrapping my arms around him tight.

"Thank you so much, Michael! It's gorgeous! The entire house! You don't know how much this means to me." He laughed lightly pulling me away from him somewhat so that he could look at me.

"I hoped you'd like it. It's the least I could do. I mean, you're always helping me out, and, yeah." He trailed off, smiling. I grinned and glanced around my room again.

"You were actually crying!" He laughed, wiping the tears away from my cheeks. He held his hands up to show me the black mascara stains on his fingers now and made a face, I giggled lightly and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"I can't believe you actually did this." I murmured, still mesmerized by the display before my eyes as my head rested lightly against his chest and he just held me. I listened contently to the sound of his steady beating heart. He had to have the kindest, biggest heart in the entire world. I smiled at this thought as I realized we were actually swaying from side to side. More like, he was rocking me in his arms like this, which only kept the smile on my face.

"So," I heard his soft voice break the silence. "what exactly happened back there. With your parents, I mean." I sighed.

"Do we really have to talk about it?"

"I think so." I sighed and, against my will, broke away from him and led the way to the living room sitting on the couch across from him. "So what happened?" He asked.

"Well," I sighed. "I got home, and they flocked me. Well, my mother especially. I told her to chill, ya know. Then she started flinging these accusations at me about being with him, again. So I exploded, I guess. I'm just sick of it." I sighed, looking down at the couch cushion, which was amazingly comfy by the way.

"Wait a second. Your mom called, she knew you were with me. Why would she accuse you of being with - him." I chewed lightly on my lip as I just stared at the couch. I didn't know how I was going to get myself out of this one, and frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to. "Oh wait. Oh my g- Melacia, this guy, ya know him, that your parents keep accusing you of doing things with, is it -" He paused and looked frustrated with himself. My breathing was becoming irregular. "Is it, me?" I swallowed hard then. I didn't say anything, just kept quiet and continued on with my interest in the couch cushion. "Mel," He lifted my face so that he was looking into my eyes. I, on the other hand, tried to avert my eyes elsewhere. "tell me."

"Can we, um, can we just forget about this? Drop the subject and move on?" I asked, getting more nervous and anxious my the second.

"It's me, isn't it?"

"What makes you so sure of yourself?" I asked, close to losing all senses of control and telling him everything.

"Because," he looked thoughtful for a minute as he contemplated. "because you said you couldn't tell me earlier, and then your mom accuses you of being with him when she knew you were with me." I gulped.

"Yeah, I guess that would give you reason enough to think that." He suddenly pushed me backward on the couch and was hovering over me, his hands on either side of my head. My eyes were slightly wide at this gesture and I think I forgot how to breathe. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt?" I turned my head away from him, but he turned it back towards him with one hand, still supporting himself with the other. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, looking pitiful and sorrowful.

"Because you have Billie Jean. I knew you wouldn't understand. I knew I couldn't come between that!" He shook his head as he looked away from me.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you felt this way?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me." He looked back at me then, his dark brown eyes penetrating my own.

"For a while."

"How long is a while, Melacia?" I could see him starting to get frustrated.

"About three years." I whispered.

"You could've told me." I shook my head. "You should have told me, Melacia." I continued to shake my head and look the other way as he talked about the coulda, shouldas. "I'm leaving next week." This caught my attention and I looked back up to meet his gaze.

"You're, leaving?" He nodded, slowly.

"I'm going on tour."

"You're just now telling me?"

"I just found out, myself." I looked away. "Melacia, please look at me." I couldn't resist him, and my eyes wandered back to his own.

"Please, Michael. Just drop this. This entire thing. Leave, go on tour. Just drop it. I've humiliated myself enough for the evening, now please, go." He looked at me through pitiful eyes.

"Melacia-"

"Go Michael. Leave." He looked at me, hurt.

"You don't want that." He whispered, inching closer to me. Did he not realize the effect he had on me, or was he just using it to his own advantage?

"Yes, I do." My voice was barely even audible. He leaned down the slightest and pressed his lips gently to the corner of my own and I stopped breathing all over again. "Michael," I pleaded with him as I could feel his lips lightly brushing over my own. "Please.." I was close to begging now.

"Please what?" He whispered. "Kiss you, or leave?" I closed my eyes and had to stop my screaming mind telling me to pull him as close to me as possible and stop for nothing, no one.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"It's all on you, Mel. Tell me to leave, and I'll go." He whispered, before brushing his lips against mine again.

"Michael -" My words stuck in my throat as he lightly kissed my full bottom lip. "Y-you have to leave now." I forced out the words in a breathy gasp. He didn't know that so little he did, could burn me up like a wild fire. The slightest touch. He nodded then, pulling his sweet face father away from mine and licking his lips. I started to change my mind.

"I'll see you later, Mel." He murmured before placing a soft kiss to my cheek and leaving. I was laying there, my mind spinning, breathless. How could he do so little and cause such a big reaction?

I didn't want to think of his acts. Did this mean he felt the same way? Surely not. It was just a spur of the moment thing. He'd go off on tour with Billie Jean, forget this even happened.

Maybe it was for the best, but my heart was breaking just at the thought.