𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 • Miguel Cazarez Mora

XI: TULIPS

The group, excluding Tatum, spend around an hour looking around the area surrounding the set.

Miguel wanted to give Tatum her flowers in private, but didn't really see them getting alone time anytime soon unless he woke her up from her nap. He thought for a minute, deciding whether or not he'd feel bad.

He would, but he decided to check her room in case she was already awake. He knocked lightly on the door. "Come in," Tatum said from the other side. He walked in to see Tatum sat on her bed. She patted the space next to her, inviting him to sit down. "What's up?" She asked as Miguel took a seat.

"I got you these," Miguel said, handing Tatum the tulips. "Me and Tristan walked past this florist, and I thought it'd be nice to get you some, since I haven't seen you in a while."

"Thank you, Miguel. How did you know these were my favourite?"

"Tristan told me a whole ago, I guess I just have a good memory."

A while ago? A while ago Miguel and Tatum hated each other. Why would Tristan be telling Miguel about Tatum's favourite flowers if the two hated each other? Tatum ignored it, figuring it was just Tristan being, well, Tristan.

"How have you been?" Miguel asked. "Like, actually been. I've seen the tweets, and the comments. You can tell me if they've been upsetting you."

"They have. They really have. I stopped crying over them, but they still get to me. I know I shouldn't check comments, and I should just block people, but I can't. It's like some sort of addiction. Like even thought I don't want to look at stuff, I need to. It's really self destructive. I've thought about quitting a few times. I've thought about just deleting everything. I don't think I can handle it any longer. I don't mind people making fun of my acting, everyone has their own style and if I really wanted to I could change it. But it's when they make fun of things I can't change, like my looks and my-"

Before Tatum could ramble anymore, Miguel cut her off. "Tay. I meant what I said a few months ago. Your looks aren't something that needs fixing. People are just jealous. I honestly think that you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Anyone who says otherwise is wrong, or blind. Childish people on the internet aren't the people you should be paying attention to."

"You think I'm beautiful?" Tatum asked.

"You don't?" Miguel asked. Tatum stayed quiet. "I think you're more than beautiful."

Tatum didn't say anything, instead she wrapped her arms around Miguel, placing her head on his chest. He could feel her crying. He didn't know whether they were sad tears, from the bullying, or happy tears from him calling her beautiful, or maybe because everyone was back. Perhaps they were all different kinds of emotions, and she just needed to get them out.

He stroked her hair as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Tatum realised that it took her no time to warm up to Miguel. They'd became friends, but she never expected to get this close to him, let alone this quick.

"Hey, Miguel?" She said, still not looking up from his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. I was nothing but a bitch to you until a few months ago. I'm surprised you don't hate me, but I'm glad. I feel safe with you."

"It's fine, Tatum. I wasn't exactly nice to you. I don't know I acted the way I did. I could never genuinely hate you." Tatum looked up at Miguel with tears still pouring from her eyes. Miguel wiped them with his thumb. "Stop crying, now. I'm here, all of us are. We're all gonna be here for you. Please, don't ever think you can't open up. I'm here, and so is Tristan, and everyone. You'll never be alone, okay? Let's go back to the others."

The two pulled apart, and Tatum instantly felt colder. Miguel walked out of the room, giving Tatum some time to collect herself. She wiped the tears from her face and did her best not to look like she was crying.

"What took you so long?" Maddy asked as Miguel walked out of the room.

"Don't worry about it," he replied.

Tatum took the pink tulips that she'd put on her bed when she hugged Miguel. She put them in the vase that was sat on her bedside table, already filled with water that she hadn't put there herself. It was like it was meant to be.

When she walked out the room, Tristan could instantly tell she'd been crying. "You okay?" He asked.

"I am now," Tatum replied, smiling at Miguel, who smiled back. Mason looked at Tristan, as if to ask him whether something was going on. Tristan nodded, smirking.

Brady spoke up next. "When Tristan and Miguel went off together, the rest of us found this Italian restaurant. We were thinking we could eat there tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," Tatum said, and everyone nodded. "But, before that, we need to talk about the sleeping situation. We can have two in my room, and everyone else in here, you guys decide who guys where."

Everyone said they'd sleep on the living room, excluding Miguel. "That was fast," he said, slightly confused as to why they wanted to sleep in the living room. Some would be on the floor, which was wood, whereas the bedroom floor was carpet. He wasn't complaining, though, he'd much rather sleep on the more comfortable floor.

For the rest of the day, the group did nothing but talk. The thing Tatum loved the most about them was that they never ran out of things to talk about. There was always something to make conversation over, even if it was the most irrelevant thing in the world to them. 

Eventually, it was time to sleep. Everyone made themselves comfortable in the living room, as Miguel and Tatum made their way to the bedroom.

"You can sleep on the bed if you want," Tatum said.

"What about you?" Miguel replied.

"It's a double bed, Miguel."

"Oh, right."

The two got into bed, getting comfortable. Miguel couldn't sleep. He had a lot on his mind. Including the girl who was sleeping just inches away from him. He lay facing the ceiling, until he heard movement beside him.

He looked over to see Tatum tossing and turning. He could tell she wasn't sleep. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"Not really. I don't know, I just can't sleep. I keep moving around. Did I wake you up?"

"No, don't worry. I was already awake. Do you want me to sleep on the floor? You might be more comfortable."

"God, no. I think I'd be worse," she said. Miguel wondered what she meant by that. Without thinking, he turned over, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Will you stop moving now?" He asked.

Tatum rested her head and her hand on his chest. "I think so."

The two eventually drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. For the first time in two months, Tatum felt completely content with her life.