𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞| 𝐌𝐉 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟖

It's eleven o'clock at night. The insects are awake, chirping and screeching their familiar sounds of the night. The streetlights beam down onto the light concrete sidewalk leading down to the neighborhood your home resides in. The street was silent of human activity, home lights were off with the exception of some leaving their porch lights on or having their candles glow on the window sill. The world was sleeping, waiting for the sun to rise again.

Just like the nightly insects, you and Michael were wide awake, walking down the pavement hand in hand with his white trench coat covered over your shoulders to shield your exposed skin from the chilling winds, giggling and laughing as the both of you reflected on the earlier evening.

Michael had taken you as his date to his dear friend Elizabeth Taylor's birthday party, to which he was graciously invited to. The party was glamorous, reminiscent of the 50s actress's youthful days. Large white feather centerpieces decorated in pearls, wall lights and crystal chandeliers draping in gold light, jazz music echoing across the smoothly painted and chiseled walls, everything felt like it was straight out a movie.

But the old Hollywood theme wasn't the best part of the party. When you arrived, you expected to be swarmed by the hundreds of guests waiting to get a simple handshake from Michael but that was far from the reality, which couldn't have turned out to be any sweeter.

In fact nobody approached him. There were waves here and there but Michael practically went unnoticed. Even Michael was surprised but he didn't complain at all, this was a dream come true for him, to go out and see what normal life was, as himself.

For you, it felt great to publicly have Michael to yourself. From having dinner to sharing a slow dance on the ballroom floor, laying the side of your face against his chest as you let him sway your body with his. It was as if time had purposely slowed down to tell you to take in the moment, and you did. Those feelings you had when you first fell in love with him all those years ago flowed back into you.

The heated air of the living room warms your skin and a sigh of relief escapes you as you return to the comfort of your home. Michael, like the gentleman he was raised to be, gently removed his coat from you, placing it on the rack and undid the strap of your heels, freeing them from its aching state.

You went upstairs and headed into your bedroom where the dark room brightened at the pull of a lamp string. Walking over to your vanity you began to remove the evening gloves and the jewelry you wore for the event but as you were doing so a voice pierced the silence, halting your movements.

"What are you doing?"

But the softness of his voice was now lower and raspy than usual. His light and charming aura had shifted into something much more intense.

You turned around to face him but he was faceless, just a dark outline hiding within the shadows of the amber light. He stood tall and still, breathless just like a statue but unlike a statue, Michael had a soul, and that soul used the darkness of the room's corners to its advantage to admire you.